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jiminrings · 3 months

Text

fail-safe (2)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.

alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: i am So sorry for this .

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

FIVE YEARS LATER

The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.

Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.

Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.

“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.

He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.

It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.

He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Neither could you.

Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.

Yoongi’s home.

Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.

Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.

Enduring is different than working.

You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.

You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.

There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.

Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.

In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.

The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.

It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.

Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.

Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.

Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.

“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”

“Yeah. Just us.”

Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.

Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

You’re numb if that’s the word for it.

Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.

Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.

Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.

You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.

Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.

“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.

Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.

“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.

He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.

“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.

Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.

You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.

To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.

The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.

You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.

Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.

“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.

“No, Joon. You give it.”

“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.

“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”

You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.

Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.

Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.

“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.

Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.

“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.

“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”

The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”

“This is not about the bug spray!”

“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”

Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”

You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.

“Don’t call me that.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.

He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.

You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.

You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.

Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.

It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.

“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.

“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.

“There. Just how you like them.”

There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.

Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.

( ♡ )

If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.

You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.

Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.

You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.

You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.

You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.

You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.

“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.

Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.

Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.

“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.

“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.

Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”

Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.

“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”

“You can stop telling me these things now.”

Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.

“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”

( ♡ )

Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.

You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.

For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.

He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.

Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.

You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.

“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”

You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.

“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”

“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.

“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.

“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.

“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.

Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”

A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.

“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.

“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.

The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.

“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.

Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.

“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.

(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)

You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.

In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.

You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.

“Okay.”

Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.

( ♡ )

A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.

You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.

When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.

And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.

Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.

If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.

The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.

“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.

You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.

“Abibas.”

Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.

“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”

Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.

Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.

The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.

“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.

“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.

“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”

You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.

“I never said that!”

You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.

“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.

“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.

Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.

“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.

“And you know, play for Korea.”

“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.

( ♡ )

On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.

The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.

You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.

You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”

“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”

“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”

“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.

“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.

“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”

“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.

Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”

Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.

Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.

You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.

In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.

“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.

Yoongi only hums.

“I know.”

( ♡ )

You’re falling back into your old routine.

Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.

Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.

It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.

You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.

Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.

“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.

You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.

“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.

“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.

“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.

It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.

Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.

Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.

Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.

#target audience im on my knees IM SO SO SORRY HOW R U FEELING!!!!#yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

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egcdeath · 1 year

Text

spectator sport

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: you and joel are the most competitive parents in your daughters’ soccer league. as it turns out, it’s not so easy being enemies when your daughters become best friends.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: canon divergent (no apocalypse yay!), rivals(?) to lovers, they don’t really like each other at the start but they also kinda do?, fluff, realizing feelings, domestic moments, yearning, allusions to a divorce

author’s note: tlou is an angsty masterpiece, but sometimes all i want is a little lighthearted fun. is this the most in character thing?? no! is it more fun to imagine malewife joel in a world without cordyceps? well… you tell me ;)

part two / series masterlist

“You got it, Chlo,” you cheered from behind a spray painted white line on a cleat-beaten grassy field. You balled your fists as you anxiously watched your daughter chase after the ball with a ferocity, herding it closer and closer towards the goal.

Your daughter had always had a passion for soccer, having watched professional matches with her father since the moment she could comprehend the game, and playing as soon as she could walk. Chloe had leaned even further into the sport following you and your ex-husband’s somewhat messy divorce, which left you in charge of bringing her to practices on Tuesdays, and games on Thursdays. It wasn’t like you minded much, you were always happy to support your daughter in whatever brought her joy.

“Pass it! Pass it!” a loud, masculine voice interjected as the man next to you shouted at your daughter.

Joel was not exactly your favorite parent on the team. While most of the parents enjoyed his presence, with his oddly wise advice for the girls and vocal support of the team (it also helped that he was quite easy on the eyes), something about the man had always thrown you off. Maybe it was his stubborn demeanor, or the way that he found a way to argue with you during every single game, without fail.

Now, as far as soccer parents went, you weren’t the worst. You had your moments of snapping at a shitty referee after a particularly rough week at work, or possibly being a little too enthusiastic when something bad happened to the opposing team, but somehow Joel always managed to do or say something that provoked you just enough to go back and forth with him.

Chloe glanced over in his direction, briefly losing her footing in perfect time for a member of the opposing team to snatch the ball right out from under her.

There was a collective groan from some of the more intense parents on your side, and you openly glared at them for indicating their disappointment with your daughter’s performance. But this wasn’t their fault. It was Joel’s.

“Great call out there,” you spat, shooting daggers in Joel’s direction as you took a few steps closer to where he was standing.

“Oh please,” you could practically hear the roll of his eyes in his words as he prepared to defend himself from your vitriol. “You think I wanted that to happen? I’m rooting for the whole team, not just my child.”

“I am not just rooting for my kid,” you delivered the statement a little too genuinely considering that the truth was probably closer to the opposite. “But you’re acting like you wouldn’t have felt the same way if it was your daughter.”

“I wouldn’t, ‘cause I understand that we’re probably gonna win,” Joel responded casually with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, we would’ve had a much better shot at that if you weren’t so dead set on yelling shitty directions at the girls. Maybe leave that to their coach?”

“Hey, don’t curse! You’re forgetting there are kids around,” one of the fathers interjected, sounding far more offended than he needed to be.

“Shut up, Mark,” you and Joel said at almost the same time, voices overlapping. Your little spats were yours and yours only, and you’d thought it was common knowledge by now not to interfere when any of the parents were getting into it—but especially with you two.

As usual, your little back and forth seemed to go on and on. It had reached the point where you weren’t even really sure it had anything to do with the game as much as it had to do with the text you’d received from your ex just a few hours before the game, and whatever bullshit Joel had going on in his own life.

As much as you’d like to say you had self awareness, week after week the other parents shared knowing looks and snickered at your spectacle, yet being the laughing stock of the game didn’t deter either of you.

This week’s argument was no different.

To be quite honest, you hadn’t ever really paid attention to those who treated your spats as their mid-game entertainment. Right now, all you could think about was stupid Joel, shouting something stupid at your daughter, making her lose her focus, and miss out on a moment.

Well, maybe you two had too much tunnel vision, as an uproar of cheers from your side pulled both of your attention from each other, and to the celebrating team on the field. Particularly, Chloe and Sarah high-fiving as they jogged away from the goal.

Awkwardly the two of you clapped, cheering the names of your respective children. You didn’t miss the slight flush of red on Joel’s cheeks after missing the sight of his daughter working with yours to score, but you would be a liar if you didn’t admit that you felt the slightest hint of embarrassment too.

The game wrapped up soon after, with a quick discussion with the coach before the children were dismissed back to their families. As you waited for Chloe, you didn’t miss the newfound camaraderie between herself and Sarah, with the girls seemingly laughing at something as they made their way over to you.

Despite whatever negative feelings you may have had towards Joel, you were always happy to see your daughter happy, and if that meant you may have to tolerate the father of her friend, maybe, just maybe, you would stop treating her games as an arena for your shouting matches.

——

As an involved parent, you were no stranger to school fundraisers. For the most part, you would enter a raffle and sit through a catered dinner as the school choir butchered school-appropriate songs, or purchase a handful of chocolate bars from whatever kid was knocking at your door. However, for this fundraiser, Chloe insisted that you volunteer.

It was a simple bake sale occurring during school hours, and you had the day off. How bad could it really be?

Apparently, really bad.

Just minutes after you arrived and began to set out the cash box and assorted baked goods, an unwelcome presence joined you, immediately bringing an uncomfortable tension into the atmosphere. If you knew when you signed up for this event that you would be working with Joel Miller, you could guarantee you wouldn’t have been so eager to register.

“Oh, hey,” you tensely acknowledged after a moment, glancing up at the man who was joining you, then back down at the bagged brownies in front of you.

“Hey,” he responded just a second too quickly, then went silent as he seemed to feel out the awkward tension in the room. After a few seconds of heavy silence that felt closer to an hour, he finally added, “Any ways can I help out?”

Joel gestured to the table where you’d been organizing some of the baked goods. “Is there a method to your madness? Or just…” he trailed off awkwardly.

It was obvious that he hadn’t expected to be working with you, likely not enthused to be spending a good portion of the day in such close proximity with someone he clearly did not like being around. The situation was almost comical—spending hours in a school with someone that you weren’t sure you could spend five minutes with without breaking into explicit argument. Obviously it would be inappropriate to argue with him in this setting, so you reasoned that for the duration of your shift, you could at least attempt to be cordial.

“Uh, they just want us to keep twenty items out at a time,” you shrugged. You could be cordial. You could just give Joel instructions, then only interact with him when need be. “And to keep gluten free items in this basket. Other than that, everything is set up. The first lunch period’s in about a half hour, so we won’t have much to do until then.”

“Got it,” Joel nodded, pulling out a rather squeaky chair before taking a seat next to you.

The following few minutes could only be described as painfully awkward. You could cut the tension with a knife as you attempted to scroll nonchalantly on your phone, and Joel uncomfortably rubbed his hands on his jeans. This was going to be a long afternoon.

“So, what made you decide to help out today?” he asked out of the blue, drawing your attention away from your phone and over to his face.

Okay, you could handle small talk without getting into an argument. Besides, it’s not like you had anything to argue about. And to be frank, were your arguments really ever anything of substance? Sure, sometimes you both had done something slightly annoying or antagonistic, but your arguments never really felt that serious.

“Chloe knew I had the day off and pretty enthusiastically suggested I come help,” you shrugged as almost a means to shake some of your nerves out. “How about you?”

“Pretty similar on my end. Sarah thought it would be a great idea for me to come in today and help out.” Joel looked at you, then back down at his watch, as if he didn’t want to maintain eye contact for too long.

What a strange coincidence. Both of your daughters suggest you come to their school and work together on something.

You bit back whatever emotion it was involuntarily forming on your lips as it occurred to you that there was not a chance in Hell that this was accidental. Sarah and Chloe seemed to be quite close—you rarely heard a story that didn’t involve Sarah these days—and it was not unlike your daughter to plot schemes to try to fix relationships, a trait you and your ex-husband know a little too well. Clever, clever girls.

“What are the odds this was on purpose?” you asked, finally not restraining your entertainment by this whole situation. How ridiculous. And ironic. How ridiculously ironic.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say quite high,” Joel pressed his lips together and shook his head to himself.

And while you’d rather have your child just communicate to you that you’re embarrassing her at games, or that she would prefer you to be at the very least amicable with her new best friend’s father, at the end of the day you couldn’t really blame her for pulling off an elaborate plot. Besides, your feud with Joel was silly and unnecessary, and part of you had always wondered if you hadn’t spent so much time arguing with him, if you two would actually get along.

“If they did plan this, which they most certainly did, we have some smart kids,” you chuckled softly. “And maybe for the sake of them, we can attempt to be… friendly?”

Joel nodded slowly, “I can do friendly.”

A truce. Although the tension between you could still be cut with a knife, it felt nice to agree at the very least not to start a war at the little table.

”Can we really blame them for setting us up?” you pondered aloud, “I mean, who would want their best friend’s parents to be enemies?”

“We’re enemies?” Joel asked with a lift of his brow.

“Well,” you paused. You weren’t really enemies. Despite all of the heated arguments, more times than not, Joel provided you a pretty safe outlet to vent your feelings without many repercussions. “Maybe… rivals?”

Joel shrugged, “Maybe. I know for certain I don’t see you as an enemy. Although, I apologize if I ever made you feel that way.”

Was Joel… apologizing? First, working together with the man, and now an apology. Maybe you should’ve gone and visited your psychic after all, with the unpredictable way your week was turning out.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, sounding quite genuine. You still weren’t completely sure that this was some weird joke, or that you’d woken up in a parallel dimension. “For always stirring the pot during games. It’s really quite-“

“Joel, it’s really not an issue,” earnestly and without a thought you interrupted the apologetic man, not wanting him to feel the guilt of being solely responsible for your little tussles. “I don’t take anything you say during games seriously. But I also want to apologize. It’s probably not the best to find little things to argue about every week.”

“I just wanted to be clear that I don’t hate you or anything,” he emphasized.

“Well I don’t want you to think I hate you either. If we’re being honest, it’s been pretty nice to be able to inconsequentially blow off steam every now and then. If anything, you’re doing me a favor.”

The corners of his lips turned up and into the slightest smile at your admission, and suddenly it had felt as if a weight had lifted off of your shoulders, and a bit more of the tension had dissolved in the room.

“No hard feelings?” he offered.

“None. Maybe the opposite,” you teased.

“Well, you know what they say about love and hate…”

“Now that may be a step too far.”

As it turned out, you and Joel made a pretty efficient bake sale team. Joel helped the kids pick out their baked goods, and you cashed the kids out. Sure, it wasn’t the most complex operation, but it felt nice to be in such a comfortable rhythm, especially considering the majority of your professional work you did alone.

By the end of your shift, you were far less displeased with your situation. In fact, one might even say that you enjoyed spending your afternoon at the sale with your daughter’s best friend’s father. Maybe Chloe and Sarah’s plot to force you together wasn’t so terrible after all.

Maybe Joel wasn’t so terrible after all.

——-

Every year, Autumn means one thing in your town: the annual fall festival.

It was honestly impressive the way that the entire community would go all out to put on such a large event in order to adequately honor the season, although part of you was convinced that the whole weekend-long event was an excuse for kids and adults alike to indulge in candy apples and Oreo turkeys and show off unnaturally large pumpkins.

This year was no different, and as tradition, you and Chloe hauled yourselves down to the festival. It just happened to be your luck that as you were exiting the car, a pickup truck pulling into a parking space caught Chloe’s attention.

“It’s Sarah!” your daughter informed you, practically skipping over to the vehicle. You followed after your daughter (who just so happened to be much faster than you) as she pulled her friend into a hug the very moment she popped out of the car.

Joel hopped out as well, glancing at your children who already seemed to be walking off towards the fair, then back to you.

“How are you?” he asked, fidgeting with his keys as he put them into his pocket. It was clear that despite deciding not to feud anymore, things were still a little fresh and weird between you two.

“Good, good,” you trailed off, nodding slowly as you slipped your hands into your own pockets and began to follow the two girls. Somehow, Joel ended up walking next to you as you trailed behind your daughters, and a light tension filled the air.

Despite feeling slightly more comfortable with him after your shift together at the bake sale, it was clear that there was still some strange awkward energy between you two. After all, you had only made amends around a week ago, and prior to that, the majority of your interactions had included some sort of verbal altercation.

Walking into the fair, you maintained a less-than-comfortable silence as your daughters chatted and led the way to the field, filled with booths and stations as far as your eye could see.

After a bit of aimless walking around, Chloe suggested a stop at a cornhole station. Watching your respective children play from the sidelines, you couldn’t help but crack a smile at the pure, unadulterated joy coming from your daughter as her and Sarah bantered with each other and tossed little bean bags. After ending with a tie, the pair began to walk away from where they were standing before pausing in front of you and Joel.

“You guys should play!” Sarah suggested enthusiastically, looking up at her father with an animated look in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Joel trailed off and glanced at you as if he wanted to check how you were feeling on the matter.

Sure, you didn’t have the upper body strength of someone who did construction for a living, but you were confident in your ability to kick some ass at corn hole.

“C’mon, mom. And you too, Joel. It’s fun! It’ll be fun!” Chloe, ever the instigator, egged you on.

“Alright, alright, since you insist,” you played up your reluctance, but happily accepted the red beanbags your daughter offered you. “It’s on, Miller,” you said as you approached the boards.

“Just you wait,” he shot back, matching the overconfident, cocky persona you’d seemed to put on. “Before I embarrass you, I’ll be polite and let you go first.”

“How kind,” you playfully rolled your eyes, but focused long enough to toss the pack not too hard and not too light, and it slid on the board before landing in the hole. “What was that about embarrassing myself?”

Heckling Joel was unsurprisingly quite easy, considering the majority of your interactions prior to the past week had consisted of taking blows at each other. What you didn’t expect was how naturally the banter between you flowed when both of you were able to acknowledge that what you were saying really wasn’t serious at all.

“I think that was called luck. You still have plenty of time to embarrass yourself,” Joel didn’t even miss a beat as he tossed his bean bag with ease, landing right into the hole.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed by his aim, and that your confidence hadn’t slightly faltered. For once in your life, it was possible that a man wasn’t over exaggerating his capabilities.

“Not bad, Joel,” you brushed his accomplishment off as you went to toss your next bag. This time, you weren’t so lucky, and your turn ended with your beanbag on the side of the board.

Chloe and Sarah dramatically reacted from the side, cheering or whooping whenever they saw fit. In a weird way, it was like your roles had been reversed. You and Joel were no longer the overenthusiastic spectators.

“What did I say? Luck,” Joel tutted. “Look, girls. I’ll show you how a real expert does it.”

Turning his back to you and the board, Joel attempted to toss his bag through the board, yet as he turned back around, he found it in the grass between your two boards.

You, Sarah, and Chloe erupted into laughter at the irony of it all, so much so that Joel couldn’t even help but to join in.

“Great job, ‘real expert’. Can you teach me your ways?”

You were somewhat stunned with the speed at which the ice had broken between you and Joel. Just a few minutes ago walking into the fair, you were nervous that the evening would be tense and awkward, yet here you were, teasing and laughing right along with each other.

Once your laughter subsided, you both tossed your last bags, with you making it in and Joel missing. After a gratuitous moment of celebration, Joel walked over to you and extended his hand for a handshake. You took up his offer, and firmly shook his hand.

“Good job out there. You were a worthy opponent.”

“Thank you, Joel. I could say the same, but I won’t. Y’know, since you lost.”

This received a giggle from your kids as Joel abruptly dropped your hand, feigning offense. Maybe it had just been a long time since you’d received any physical affection at all, but the loss of his brief grip stirred something strange deep inside of you.

Ew. No.

You could barely tolerate this man a week ago. Sure, he wasn’t terrible to look at, and your daughter had seemed to take a liking to him, but you’d be remiss if you hadn’t thought about all of those charged arguments you’d had during soccer games. You had only just recently considered him to be anything more than a nuisance.

“Where to next?” Joel asked, pulling you out of your head as the girls began to chatter and move in the direction of whatever booth had caught their eyes.

That was a train of thought for another time. Maybe you’d let yourself think about it tonight night, as you attempt to fall asleep in a bed that’s far too big for one person and far too cold without someone else there. But not here, where the situation felt like a live wire, and a little too real for your liking.

——

For the most part, Chloe’s soccer hobby took up more time than it gave you. The time it took going to practices, games, and tournaments quickly added up, on top of working an absurd amount to make sure that you could pay the mortgage and club fees on time and keep your child happy. The one exception to this general rule were team dinner nights—a night where you didn’t have to worry about spending an hour or two in the kitchen, giving you far more free time to do whatever you wanted.

This time around, Joel was hosting the dinner at his place. Clearly, Chloe was excited to be spending the evening at her closest friend’s home, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see what his place looked like.

And maybe, just maybe, you were the slightest bit excited to see Joel again.

“Can we just go over early?” she requested as you checked the nearly done cookies in the oven. “Can I go over early to hang out with Sarah? Please?”

You practically could hear the puppy dog eyes in her voice, and when you looked over to her, she was indeed looking at you with a somewhat convincing sense of desperation. It was never easy for you to say no to your daughter, which she unfortunately knew. This time was no different.

Sighing softly, you conceded, “have Sarah ask her dad if you can come by.”

Chloe cheered as she dashed off to the other room, seemingly reaching out to her friend who very quickly responded, as your daughter was back in just a few minutes with confirmation that she could come by any time.

Quickly pulling the cookies out from the oven and throwing them into a container, you packed Chloe into the car, and hauled her over to her friend’s house.

Chloe grabbed your Tupperware and skipped to the door, politely knocking and waiting patiently as you stayed seated in your car, just to make sure your daughter got in okay. As if she was awaiting Chloe’s arrival (and she most definitely was), Sarah pulled open the door the moment Chloe had put her knuckles to the door and welcomed her friend in.

A somewhat muffled voice from inside called something out, leaving Sarah to relay it back to you: “Before you go, my dad wanted to know if you wanted to stop in for a drink?” she called out, just loud enough for you to hear from your open window.

Any other day, you would’ve said no. But for some reason, coming in and checking in just felt right today—so that was exactly what you did. It wasn’t like you and Joel weren’t in friendship territory with each other.

While the girls ran off upstairs, you made your way to the kitchen to find a very stressed-looking Joel. He was in complete disarray as he checked the oven twice, then the fridge for something, then stirred something in a pot.

“Hey, you alright?” you asked right off the bat, setting down the container of cookies your daughter had given back to you onto his countertop.

“Yeah, fine. Just didn’t think about how I was gonna cook all of this in time,” he moved away from the stovetop and towards a cupboard to grab you a glass. “Now what would you like to drink? I’ve got some coke, some juice, something a little stronger…?”

“Just water is fine,” you hummed, awkwardly standing by the counter. “Joel, do you want some help? You know, four hands are better than two. And I’m pretty competent when it comes to reading and following a recipe.”

“Please,” he barely let you finish speaking before he spoke, and desperation was practically dripping off his tone as he passed you a glass of water.

You weren’t sure you expected him to say yes, but you were somewhat surprised when he agreed anyway. He didn’t exactly seem like the type to accept help, let alone ask for it. Joel must’ve been even more stressed than you initially picked up on.

“Of course. What would you like me to do?”

“Uh, if you could just cut up some of the fruit that would be great,” the man ran his hands through his hair as he approached the fridge once more.

You nodded and walked over to the cutting board where it was clear that Joel had begun to attempt cutting some fruit up, but had been interrupted by one of the many pots on the stovetop or dishes in the oven.

Although you didn’t necessarily envision your evening being spent in a frantic Joel Miller’s kitchen, you weren’t particularly mad at it. It didn’t take long for you two to fall into that easy collaborative rhythm that you seemed to always have when it came to working together. Maybe you weren’t too bad of a team after all.

By the time the doorbell rang with the first family, you and Joel had just finished up, and your daughters had just about finished setting up the table in the dining room and on the patio. Taking you by surprise, Joel reached out for a high-five, which gave you a hearty laugh as the two of you tapped hands.

“I appreciate your help,” he remarked. “You saved my ass tonight.”

By all means, dinner was a success. Parents and children raved about how good everything was, and conversing with Joel and the other parents was surprisingly easy—despite you not noticing the knowing looks that a few of the more gossipy moms frequently shot each other.

Luckily, a few families assisted in cleaning things up after dinner before heading out, cutting the time you’d need to spend helping with cleaning pretty significantly. As the night wound down, it came as no surprise when Chloe asked if she and Sarah could hang out for just a bit longer. It’s not like an extra hour would kill you, especially not when Joel was pulling out a bottle of white wine and suggesting sitting out on the patio in the pleasant Austin autumn weather.

As you got settled into your seat, Joel poured you out a glass before pouring himself some. You sighed contentedly, happy with a rather pleasant evening, but tired from the stress of the day.

“Thank you for helping me out. There’s no way in hell I could’ve done this without you,” he confessed, peering deeply into your eyes. He looked at you for just a moment too long, the attention bringing a warmth to your face.

“I’m always happy to help anyone,” you smiled shyly under the pressure of his intense look before taking a sip of your drink. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be happy to help Amy. But I’m always happy to help you.”

“Well, I appreciate you,” Joel paused as he drank. “And I wouldn’t help Amy either.”

The two of you shared a little laugh before a rather comfortable silence filled the air. The two of you looked up at the sky, gazing at the stars that seemed to be shining a little more bright than usual.

“I’d like to repay you somehow,” Joel said, breaking the silence as he continued to keep his eyes fixed on the sky.

“Mm, that’s not necessary,” you hummed. “Dinner was plenty. It was great, and Chloe and I will definitely be enjoying our leftovers.”

“It’s necessary to me,” Joel paused as if he was contemplating even saying the next words. “Would you let me take you out sometime?”

It was clear that he was looking right at you, nervously anticipating your answer.

You cracked a slight smile as you turned your head towards him, “That would be nice,” you nodded. “I think that would be really nice.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #soccer parents au

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notjustjavierpena · 9 months

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT Husband Javier and the reader are fighting the whole day but trying to repress it because of their kids- After they're asleep the two are arguing again and then boom makeup sex 😋 thank you angel !!!!

Fight

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This request literally had me up all night, and now it has come to life and possibly turned into one of the most sensual pieces I’ve ever written. I’m obsessed with them.

Summary: You feel overlooked and unappreciated. Javier says the wrong thing and hell breaks loose, but he also knows how to say sorry.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (mdni!), domestic life and dynamic, grownups being assholes to each other, hurt/comfort, saying sorry to each other and to your kids because I’m healing my inner child, crying, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, passionate and rough sex, MAKEUP SEX!!!, clit stim, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, love love love, they are just crazy about each other

Word count: 4.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596877

Fight

Chucho Peña is coming over tomorrow and that’s fine.

You’ve made plans to make plans at this point though. The list of things you need to do before he arrives still gets longer every time you have a moment to think about it to yourself, teeny tiny details adding up to a day that’ll keep you busy from the moment you wake up. It would have been fine if you didn’t have to get the kids out of bed and prepared for school, and then go to work too, right on top of cleaning, shopping, cooking, and hosting — at 34 weeks pregnant.

Javier is Javier about it, reassuring you that it will be fine and that you just need to take a breath whilst he stands in the door to the garden, back towards you and smoking his morning cigarette whilst you try to tell Inés that she should have cornflakes instead of lucky charms for breakfast.

“Oh,” Javier says after stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray that Lucas has made for him in arts and crafts class. He turns around and rests against the doorframe, “Can we have that chocolate cake you made last time? The one with the white chocolate frosting?”

You never personally thought that you’d ever get into an argument about chocolate cake. If you’d said this to the child version of yourself, she would have laughed out loud and told you that nobody could ever be angry about anything to do with dessert. Especially not chocolate desserts. Yet here you are, letting your fatigue get the better of you.

“Sure,” you let out a loud sigh, dragging it out to really let your husband know that you are not happy about his input, “Sure, Javi, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of things I need to do for your father.”

You hear it as soon as it leaves your mouth but you’re too stubborn to backtrack, watching Javier go rigid in the door. He furrows his brow in confusion, and then his expression turns into a frown and eventually a scowl. He doesn’t look downright angry but not happy either.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks defensively, body language telling you that he is getting ready for another attack. He enters the kitchen like he is walking on eggshells, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I only asked you if we could. You have every right to say no, and not be pi—“

Inés looks up at him with big brown eyes that are similar to his own. He swallows down the word, replaces it with something more child-friendly, “And not be rude about it.”

“Say no and watch you be a giant toddler about it? Great, I’ll definitely choose that,” you scoff, running on autopilot and clearing the kitchen counter whilst you argue. Out of the corner, you see Inés starting to squirm in her seat but you’re too far gone by now, “It’s not even my father, and I have to do everything for the preparation because you’re oh-so-important.”

“So we’re just never having my dad over ever again?” Javier seethes, mouth twitching in anger and threatening to put on a violent smile. He has some kind of ability to piss you even more off when he is just about to smile during arguments.

“That’s not what I said, and that’s not the point,” you stubbornly bend down, hand on your round belly, to put your own plate into the dishwasher. Sebastian is due soon, kicking you as your pulse rises due to anger. Javier looks like he is contemplating whether to help you straighten again or not.

“Then what is the point?”

With a hand on the edge of the kitchen counter, you manage to stand upright once more. You face Javier, finally scowling right back at him and he seems to shrink a little underneath your fury, “I’m exhausted, Javier. When do you think I have had a night to myself? I know you have a busy schedule, I do, but God—“

You drag the last word out, running a hand through your hair in frustration, “But you went out with Steve just days ago. I need to cook, clean, do the grocery shopping, take care of two kids, and - by the way - do it all with someone kicking my bladder every goddamn minute of the day. Which - by the way - is your doing.”

There is no reason to sound as venomous as you do, but you suspect that half of it is exhaustion and the other half is hormones getting the better of you and ridding you of better judgment.

“Fine, you win,” Javier makes a display of holding his hands up in surrender but he mixes it with a roll of his eyes, and you almost go for his throat, “I’m a terrible husband.”

“Oh, you did not ju—“ You raise your voice.

Suddenly, you hear sniffling beside you. It pulls you right out of your head and makes you observe your surroundings, and with the way that Javier flinches, it seems to be doing the same to him.

Inés' little voice breaks your heart, the sight of her even more so when you see she has covered her ears with her hands, “Mamá. Why are you yelling at Papá? Don’t you like each other anymore?”

Javier sends you a look that makes your stomach drop, something that tells you that you are not done here. He looks absolutely furious with you, especially after seeing his daughter cry.

But then he sucks in a deep breath and crosses the room to crouch down beside Inés. He rubs her back soothingly, “Nos gustamos mucho, mija.”

Your legs have made you join them before your brain can even get the idea. Ever so gently, you run your hand over Inés' hair, “I’m so sorry, baby. We won’t shout anymore. Sometimes we get bad feelings. Remember when we talked about those?”

Javier looks at you with his mouth still a thin line and you glare back at him without Inés seeing. He straightens to get a piece of paper towel, first dabbing his daughter’s eyes and then blowing her nose afterward.

Lucas Peña peeks into the kitchen from the hallway. He looks like someone who has just woken up, hair sticking out in the same way that his father’s sometimes does, but it’s accompanied by a concerned expression on his face as he watches the scene in the kitchen, “Why were you fighting?”

“We weren’t fighting,” you reassure and hold out your arm. Lucas goes to press into your side, and you respond to his affection by resting a hand on his head, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Lucas replies but he doesn’t sound convinced.

From the outside, it probably looks like the perfect family portrait but you can feel Javier is fuming underneath the surface. He leaves Inés’ side to throw the snotty paper towel out, his shoulders still tense.

“Lucas, can you take your sister into the bathroom and brush your teeth?” You say as neutrally as you can muster, faking a smile down at him as he looks up at you, “I’ll be right there.”

“What about breakfast?” He asks.

“I’ll make you a sandwich for the bus ride. Whatever you want, but we’re already late,” you tell him, and it seems to work as he takes Inés’ hand in his own and leads her out of the room.

When Javier and you are alone again, an uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. Javier stands against the counter, palms flat on its surface and you can hear the sound of the clock in the background, ticking by as the silence stretches.

You are just about to apologize when Javier turns around. His eyes are wild with fury, not at all as submissive as just moments earlier when you had been the angry one. He points at you, mustache twitching with disgust that you are sure must be directed at himself too, because he says, “Never in front of the kids. I don’t care how angry you are. We don’t do that.”

You can feel your bottom lip tremble.

Javier leaves the kitchen instead of comforting you.

You force a smile, trying your hardest to sound cheerful while tears spill down your cheeks, “Lucas, what do you want on your sandwich?”

The rest of the day goes by without any resolve, and it feels like there’s a brick lying heavy on your chest and making you on the verge of tears all day. Despite this, you manage to get everything on today’s list done before dinner and yes, you buy the ingredients for the stupid chocolate cake, making an effort to ‘casually’ leave the recipe on the counter for Javier to see. It results in him emptying and refilling the dishwasher without a word.

During your bedtime routine, Lucas looks worried. He tugs at your hand when you are just about to leave and you can see the cogs turn in his head as he strings together a sentence, “Mom… It’s okay if you and Dad were angry at each other. I just don’t like it when you cry and… and I want you to say sorry. That’s what you make me do when I get angry at you or Dad. Or Inés.”

Your heart hurts from the love that’s barely able to be contained inside of it. With every single muscle in your body being strained, you manage to bend down to hug his head close to your chest, “Mijo.”

“No, don’t be sad,” he says quickly, hugging you back.

“I’m not, baby. These are good tears because I love you so much,” you kiss his head, “I’m so proud of being your mom, baby. You know this, right?”

Lucas pulls back and you quickly wipe your tears away. He studies your face for a second, “Y-yes, I love you too, Mom, but you need to say sorry to Dad.”

You nod, struggle a little as you try to get up and say your final goodnight. On the way out, you desperately brush more tears out of your face because looking at the photos in the hallway makes them well up in your eyes once more.

Javier is tying the strings of his pajama pants as you enter your shared bedroom. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you strip yourself naked except for your underwear, and not even when you pull a tank top over your head that’s barely covering your pregnant belly anymore. You’re unsure of what to say to get a reaction from him. The silence screams.

“I’m sorry,” you eventually settle for.

Javier turns to you then. His eyes rest on you for a moment before he speaks, “I’m sorry too. I get it… wanting time to yourself. I just didn’t know that was what you needed.”

He is hugging you soon after, strong arms around your exhausted frame. Your round stomach bumps against his flat one, and he lets go with one arm in favor of resting a hand where Sebastian usually kicks during the evening hours. It’s thankfully quiet right now, as if he senses that you need it.

“I wish you could just see how much invisible work I put into this house,” you say softly into his shoulder, “I feel so underappreciated and overwhelmed sometimes.”

“And I wish you would tell me how you’re feeling instead of treating me like a damn mind reader,” he sighs deeply, and you respond by getting defensive again. You’re just about to pull away with an annoyed groan.

“No, no, c’mere,” he tugs you back into his arms and you let him because you’re feeling generous. His hands cradle your face, “I don’t wanna fight. Please. I hate fighting with you. I’m sorry.”

“You make me so furious,” you whine as he bumps your nose with his own, feeling tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and one sliding down to drip from your chin. Javier tuts, catches it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his mouth curls downward as he says it, puppy dog eyes on their highest setting, “I know how much you do. I do. I’m just— you know how I am. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Javier embraces you once more as you blink tears away, dragging in a deep breath. The air in the bedroom smells like him, comforting and safe, and it makes it hard to keep concentrating on your fight and easier to fall into him.

“I love you,” you mumble into his shoulder, and holy fuck, you do - every single day, hour, minute and second. He is your best friend, your husband, the face of your children, and most importantly, you know that he does his best for you.

It seems that those three words are exactly what he wants to hear because you feel his hands curl around the hem of your tank top. You don’t protest, relishing in the gentle touch of his fingertips against your back as he pulls the piece of clothing up and over your head.

Your shoulders come down to relax from having been tensed up. You haven’t even noticed how much energy you have been using on straining your muscles, but now that you are calming again, you can feel how upset you’ve actually been throughout the day.

“I love you too,” he promises. Your heart drums in your chest. The way he says it makes arousal burn below your belly button, a gentle tingling, and swirling sensation pleasantly taking over your whole pelvic floor.

You look down between the two of you to see that Javier is already half-hard in his pajama pants, words seemingly having had the very same effect on him too. You start untying the strings of his pants slowly until you can tug them down over his hips, and he mirrors you to remove your underwear.

Both of your bottoms pool around your feet, and when you have both stepped out of them, Javier pulls you close by your elbows. He catches your mouth in a desperate kiss, and you melt into him in a way that an apology could never make him feel.

He pushes you back towards the bed whilst never breaking the searing kiss. Your hair is a mess in his hands, heartbeat speeding up as everything moves so fast from then on out; he helps you down onto the bed like the gentleman he is, manhandles you onto your side like the man you were swept off your feet by years ago and finally presses his front up against your back.

“I want you,” you say in unison, and it makes you giggle at how in sync you are with each other despite having spent the day fighting over something already long forgotten. Especially when his arm scoops underneath you to cage you against his chest, hand tightening around your shoulder to hold you in place.

Javier leans over you slightly to kiss the giggles away, bends your knees a little with his free hand so he can let it wander over you. He touches you up along your thigh as you place a pillow under your pregnant belly, takes his time holding you tightly, “Get hotter and hotter every day, mi amor.”

You press your ass back into his crotch, cunt throbbing with impatience as you hear the tiny groan that he lets out. He is so hard against the roundness of your behind, cocktip leaking steadily against your warm skin when he grinds right back into you.

“Put it in,” you plead softly. Your hands come up to grip his forearm that is secured just above your tits, “Javi, please. I need it so bad.”

He is silent behind you as he works. The anticipation is unbearable when it is mixed with the unnerving need to have an outlet for all the intense emotions that you have just been through, your pussy quivering in desperation to be deliciously stretched out to transform your feelings into something physical.

Suddenly, you feel the thick head of his cock between your thighs and you ready yourself for intrusion. Luckily, he doesn’t make you wait, guides himself into you in a slow motion until he is fully sheathed inside you.

“Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can, nails digging his arm from how hard you are gripping it.

“I know, ahh fuck, shhh,” he soothes but the way his voice sounds makes you believe that he is just as close to losing his mind, “Be quiet, baby. Just let me make you feel fucking amazing. Need a pillow between your knees too?”

You nod, and he is right there with his own pillow to help you get even more comfortable in bed with him. God, why were you even fighting? Something about cake? Either way, it seems beyond ridiculous.

His nose is in your neck, his hand travels up to cup your breast and then he moves his body for a very first thrust inside of you. It makes your eyes nearly roll back into your skull when he keeps the pace lazy and deep, barely pulling out with each roll of his hips.

“You feel so good,” he praises whilst mouthing along the most sensitive spot on your neck, “Makes me never wanna leave. Wanna live here.”

“Inside me?” You chuckle breathlessly.

“Forever,” he gives you a slightly harder thrust, the first where the noise of his skin slapping against yours resonates through the bedroom. You moan in surprise, and he hushes you once more, “Don’t let them wake up and think momma is in pain.”

“Definitely not in pain.”

Javier lets out the quietest laugh. It’s almost unfair how good he is at keeping it down compared to you, but you don’t think you’ll mind having his big palm cover your mouth if you end up causing trouble. It almost happens when he pinches an overly sensitive nipple, making it harden immediately under his touch.

“Help me spread my legs a little more,” you beg at a low decibel.

The hand on your tit gropes obscenely and shakes for a moment before it slips down and caresses your belly on the way. Still lying on your side, he smacks the fleshiest part of where your ass and thigh meet before he cups the back of your knee so he can lift.

The move gives you the access you need to rub your cunt, two fingers going in taut little circles around the swollen nub. You rock with him too, and it goes on until you come with your back arched, releasing a short and hot breath that you didn’t notice you had been holding until it turns into a loud and accidental moan.

“That’s my girl,” he moans too as you clench rhythmically and choke his dick when you release the built-up tension. When your orgasm reaches its peak, Javier’s hand on your shoulder moves to cover your mouth at the fear of you making enough noise to have the door burst open with unwelcome visitors, “I know it’s hard, mi vida, but - shit - but be quiet.”

You take the opportunity to let out a drawn-out and helpless cry into his hand as the sweet pleasure goes on for a few moments more. Then you slump, and he gently moves your leg down again to put less strain on your body.

“My God,” he talks into your ear, thrusts never slowing down and you swear that you can feel his cock jump with every weak noise you make, “I love you so much. Love your little cunt too, she takes me so well.”

Javier’s hand comes down to grip the extra pounds on your hips. He tugs at the flesh almost painfully, but your exhaustion and dopamine overload are making you too delirious to notice that it’s to the point of bruising. He holds tight and uses the grasp that he has on you to pull you down onto his cock over and over.

It takes no time to make a second orgasm stir in the pits of your stomach. Your moans change once more as your body starts responding to him fucking you so hard.

“You think you can come again?” He rasps into your ear, and when the head of his cock slides teasingly over your favorite little spot inside of yourself, you nod frantically and it feels like you are about to cry actual tears. Fuck yes, you can come as many times as he wants.

“Mhm, won’t take long,” you whimper and use all your willpower to lift your leg over your husband’s thigh until you are spread widely. Your belly is still comfortably supported in the new position, but now that your front is stretched taut and fully exposed like a well-trained and submissive animal, it enhances the feeling of Javier gliding over your g-spot repeatedly.

Javier removes the arm that he has caged you in with, but whereas it gives you a moment to heave a breath of air into the very bottom of your lungs, he quickly takes it away from you as he reaches up with his other hand to grab your throat. He doesn’t squeeze like he normally would when you are not pregnant, but the anticipation of him doing it makes your head swim.

And then he is absolutely brutal in his thrusts, and before you know it, you are coming with your clit untouched and a strangled sob. The convulsions are so intense that your thighs shake, your toes curl and your eyes screw shut.

You reach up to put your hand on the back of Javier’s head, holding on tightly as he pounds into you from behind throughout your orgasm. The way he pants tells you that he is close, and when you yank the tiny curls at the nape of his neck, he starts to chase his release.

“Javi,” you whisper loudly as he slams into your sensitive cunt, “Give it to me. Pleasepleaseplease. Need you to fill me up.”

“Fu— oh shit,” Javier swears in a low, rough growl as he snaps his hips a few last times before stilling inside of you. He feels impossibly big inside your cunt as he pumps you full of his come, cockhead resting at your cervix and coating you in warmth.

“Jesus, we’re terrible at being quiet,” you whisper as he pants. You let your leg come down onto the other once again, a giggle suddenly building up in your chest. He starts laughing whilst still inside of you, hugging you tightly into his chest and nuzzling his nose into your cheek.

“They sleep through it, don’t gotta worry about it much anymore, I think,” he notes without care, kissing your cheek repeatedly despite still not having calmed his breath. You smile widely as you stare at the ceiling, overtaken by the love you feel for him every time he gets you to post-orgasmic bliss.

“We need a date night soon though, Jesus. Perhaps Pop could take the kids home with him tomorrow after dinner and I could… do this again,” he smacks your ass playfully, then strokes your hip in soothing circles, and you almost purr like a cat at the gentle move, “Without a mute button on my pretty wife’s mouth, of course.”

“I’d like that,” you say with a soft and sweet sigh, acknowledging his attempt to make things from earlier up to you, “Been a while since you’ve made me scream. Wanna take our time.”

Javier reaches down between you to pull out before he is completely soft. You hiss at being left empty when you are so spent, but Javier quickly distracts you with another string of kisses to your cheek and the corner of your mouth. He adds to the fantasy, “And then I’ll draw you a bath and you can spend as much time alone as you want. Don’t gotta be no one to anyone.”

He moves on the bed as far as his arm that’s trapped beneath you allows him, going for the packet of wet wipes you keep on the nightstand. He had suggested them when it had become too hard during your third trimester for you to get out of bed after sex. He hands you a few and you hold them over your mound, enjoying the coolness of them.

“You know the way to my heart,” you say, wiggling a little and feeling his come seep out. It makes your nose crinkle.

“Well, I did convince you to marry me,” he replies.

“Worst decision I’ve ever made,” you tease. Javier wraps his other arm around you, hand splayed on your belly.

The position you are in is uncomfortable; Javier’s arm underneath you has got to be asleep by now and you feel damp with sweat due to him being like a furnace against your back.

Still, you both drift off slowly into the soundest sleep. You don’t wake up until two unexpected visitors barge in at the most ungodly hours of the morning, causing you to scramble for the blanket to cover your bodies up and hide the come-stained wet wipes in the nightstand drawer.

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givemefevrr · 1 month

Text

Fuck Me Like I'm Famous (NSFW)

Pairings: dom!Jay x fem!reader

Warnings: Breeding kink, possessiveness, public sex, Jay is in a band, creampies, fishnet stockings, mirror sex, rough sex, hand kink, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), praise kink (kind of), degrading kink (kind of), dollification, etc...

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Jay's pulse raced with adrenaline as he played the final bars of his guitar solo, the crowd roaring. He glanced over to the side of the stage, catching a glimpse of you, his girlfriend. He couldn't help but notice every detail about you—the way your little black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the fishnet stockings that accentuated your legs, and those contrastingly innocent, cute white lace socks poking out of your Mary Janes shoes. You were a sight he couldn't tear his eyes away from. Your eyes met his, and a soft, proud smile formed on your lips as you watched him perform.

As the first set came to an end, Jay thanked the fans for all the cheers and support. He glanced back over to you, but this type you watched his adam’s apple bob with a gulp, his eyes making slow movement down your body before the crowd’s noise returned his focus to the stage.

He prepared for the next set, picking up his guitar again, the first chords of the next song echoing through the venue. Yet, despite the ocean of fan’s in front of him, Jay's eyes couldn't help but flicker back to you, standing there in your little black dress.

Throughout the entire second set, his gaze kept returning to you like a magnet. The way you leaned against the side of the stage, focused solely on him. With each glance, Jay's control threatened to unravel. The veins on his hands and arms popped out as his grip on his guitar tightened, each note he played serving as a desperate attempt to hold back the hunger consuming him.

And soon, your eyes wandered to his fingers that expertly worked over the strings of his guitar. God, the things you’d love for those fingers to do–

But before you could finish your many fantasies, the second set and the third set had already come to an end. Wow, had you really been staring at Jay’s hands for that long?

Jay’s voice is what ripped you from your thoughts, his “stage voice” what you liked to call it, booming over the speakers, energetic and bright.

“Johnson City, what do you think of the concert so far?” Jay asked, taking his microphone from its stand and pointing it towards the crowd, receiving a series of loud, collective cheers and whistles. Jay chuckled slightly at the response, smirking.

He allows himself to bask in the cheers momentarily before glancing back at you for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Alright, well get ready for this next set–it’ll start in a little bit. See you soon, Johnson City!” Jay waves before speeding backstage for intermission.

The loudness of the crowd echoed in his ears as he reached you, taking your hand in his, guiding you close to his body as you walked with him. "You look incredible," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the concert.

You leaned in closer, the scent of your perfume mingling with the sweat and energy of the stage. "And you, Mr. Rockstar, were amazing up there," you replied, your eyes filled with admiration.

“Yeah?” He smirked down at you, contrasting the dark gaze in his eyes as he backed into his dressing room, pulling you inside and pressing you against the now closed door, locking it. “I’ve been thinking about you since the first set,” he tilts your chin up with his fingers, his other hand tracing the contours of your body, coaxing a giggle out of you before planting a kiss onto your lips.

“Here? Really?” you scold, pushing his chest gently, finding the man amusing. “Can’t survive a couple hours without sex, huh?”

But he didn’t let you move, grabbing your hips roughly, pinning you against the door. “I can’t survive a couple hours without sex? You were practically drooling over my fingers the whole time I was on stage,” he retorted with a hint of arrogance, his knee nudging between your thighs.

You gasp, both surprised at the sensation and the fact that he noticed your staring. “You have to be on stage again in like ten minutes, Jay,” you try to deflect.

“That’s why we’ll be quick, hm?” he cooed seductively before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you further into the dressing room.

Placing you on top of one of the make up desks, the cool surface of the mirror with its ring of bulbous lights pressed against your back, he immediately leaves hungry kisses in your mouth.

You responded eagerly, arching into the touch of his rough fingertips that traced up your thighs, teasing your fishnets with a playful tug before letting the material snap back against your skin. A moan escaped your lips into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching to tangle in his hair, but Jay stopped you with a condescending smirk.

“Ah, not the hair, baby. My stylists will get pissed, and I have to be on stage soon, remember?” he reminded you with a slow, teasing tone, his lips trailing down to your neck as his hands moved further up your thighs under your tiny black dress.

He growled softly as he discovered the absence of any undergarments except for the fishnets. “You really planned this out, didn’t you?” he murmured appreciatively, his voice rough.

You smile mischievously, your hands sliding down his body to palm at his clothed dick. “Maybe I did,” you teased.

And Jay lost it–quickly making work of your shoes and little black dress, unhooking the black bralette you wore under, leaving on the fishnet stockings and lacey white socks. “Shit, you look so dolled up like this,” he groaned, his hands cupping your tits, his thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples as he leaned in for another heated kiss.

Grasping your hips again, he pulled you to the edge of the desk, pressing your bare heat against the front of his black jeans, grinding against you, teasingly.

“J-Jay, stop, you’re–– you’re going to get your pants all messy!” you whimpered, concerned for his stage outfit, though your hips still rolled against his.

“Even better,” he rasps onto your mouth before slowing to a stop. “Turn around.”

But before you could move on your own, he deftly maneuvered you so that your stomach was pressed over the surface of the table. Jay’s hands roamed over your exposed back, tracing the curve of your spine with a possessive touch. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, the anticipation building with each passing second.

His hands moved lower, sliding down your hips, his fingertips teasing along your inner thighs, so, so close to where you craved his touch the most. You arched your back, a silent plea for more.

“So wet already,” he murmured, his voice a low coo. “Want me that bad already?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his fingers found their target, tracing the outline of your arousal through the thin fabric of the fishnet stockings. He teased you mercilessly, eliciting desperate whimpers and gasps from you as he circled and stroked. You heard the unzip of his jeans before he suddenly ripped a hole in your stockings.

“Jay,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea for more, your body craving his touch, oh so much.

And so Jay wasted no time, his length plunging into your slick heat. The stretch and the suddenness of his entry was a bit painful, but it was so addicting. A moan tore from your lips as he bottomed out, your walls clenching around him instinctively, welcoming him in as if he belonged there, as if you were made to fit him perfectly.

Jay let out a low, guttural groan of satisfactions, the sound reverberating through the room as he began to move, setting a relentless pace that had you whimpering and whining, his hands gripping your sides with a strength that promised bruises.

“You’re so loud, doll,” Jay scoffed, his voice dripping with lust as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you wish the fans could hear how good I’m fucking you right now.”

You struggled to babble a response back, nodding frantically in compensation for your lack of coherence.

Jay’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts becoming even more fervent as he chased his own release. “Well too fucking bad,” he breathed, his voice possessive. “You’re mine. All mine.”

He leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses onto your back and shoulders, marking you up as he drilled into you. “All mine,” he repeated again like a mantra, each word punctuated by a thrust that left you gasping for air.

Your mind was consumed with nothing but him, his touch, his scent, him filling every corner of your being. It was as if the world outside the dressing room ceased to exist, as if you two were the only ones in the venue, and the fans weren’t screaming just outside.

He leaned back slightly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he angled his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you drool, so cock dumb that you could barely keep your head up, your vision hazy.

“Look at yourself, baby,” Jay commanded suddenly, gently tilting your head up, urging you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. But embarrassment made you close your eyes, hiding from your own gaze.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded again, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided your face to meet your reflection. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice a whisper against your ear as you finally obeyed, meeting your own gaze in the mirror, the glass fogging up with your pants and whines.

“There she is—my pretty girl,” Jay murmured, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection, dark with pure lust as he continued, his movements growing more urgent with each passing second. “Do you see how beautiful you look? How good you take me?"

As your eyes locked with his in the mirror, you could only whimper in response, unable to form coherent words, your body clenching tightly around Jay’s cock, feeling the familiar heat in your tummy build up.

You met him thrust for thrust, rocking backwards onto his cock, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you until it finally snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. "S-so good," you managed to gasp out, your body trembling as your walls clenched around his cock tightly in your release.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” Jay groaned, his movements becoming sloppier as your orgasm washed over you. “It’s like you’re made for it. Made for me to breed you, fill you up.”

“Mph– please!” you beg, your head spacey, your body still buzzing.

“Hm? Want that? Want me to give you a baby–make you a mommy?”Jay's voice was a deep rumble, his hips rocking against yours as he spoke, teasing you. You nodded eagerly, babbling incoherently, your voice filled with need as you feel his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you.

In the aftershocks, you collapsed against the table, Jay still holding you close, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he kissed your temple tenderly, rubbing your tummy, still shallowly pumping his cock in you. The dressing room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, and soon one of Jay’s bandmates were banging on the door.

“Jay, you were supposed to be out five minutes ago, stop fucking and get out on stage!”

Jay grunted in response as he reluctantly pulled out of you, his cum dripping from your used cunt. With a final lingering kiss on your spine, he reluctantly straightened up, his cock still glistening as he hastily adjusted his clothing.

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339 notes · View notes

gotham-daydreams · 8 months

Note

I love. Your series. I haven't had angst hit this good in years.

I like to imagine that y/n did *try* to be a vigilante like the others. They took the sports and martial arts as a way to practice and when they excelled in running, gymnastics, karate, ect- they gave it their first try. And their first attempt went terribly. They went out alone and so young, not that they ever wanted to fight crime to begin with but that is the most logical way to connect to the family. They were severely injured and decided after that they weren't going to be able to try again. They had to heal alone and their worldview changed from "I can be like them once I'm good enough" to "Maybe they can still love me even if I'm not a vigilante." And nobody knew they even thought this or tried at all. y/n wanted to give the family something to be proud about. And they failed.

You. I like you.

I'm glad you're enjoying the series!!!

[Warnings: Angst (sort of?), Blood, Reader Getting Injured, Panic(?)]

(Not proofread. Had a fun time writing this!)

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You tried to catch your breath, gasping for air as you clutching onto your side. You could feel the wound, the pain never even letting you forget it for a second as you stared in front of you.

Two unconscious men laid on the ground. They were about twice your size across all categories, and yet you had managed to knock them out, somehow. You could hardly believe it, and yet you could barely consider this a victory. Not when you heard the sounds of rushing footsteps, and angry shouts that were growing louder as they headed in your direction.

"There they are! AFTER THEM!"

A thug shouted before you could even register how close they had gotten, head whipping around to see the source of the voice, causing you to pale at the amount of thugs behind him.

Before the dread could even settle in, your body was able to react much faster than your mind. Your feet rushed forward before jumping high in the air, kicking off the walls in the alleyway to travel over the thugs, and landing behind them, not wasting a single second to run away.

Various shouts followed behind you, but all you could concentrate on was the path ahead of you. You traveled between various alleyways in hopes of losing the men, but it was like the moment you got close to achieving that, someone would notice you one way or another.

All of the twists and turns were beginning to confuse you, a sense of dizziness falling over you as the world began to spin. You tried to push forward and keep going, promising yourself that you were almost there — even if you didn't know where 'there' was, or what it could mean.

Your legs began to hurt and sting as you ran, but you kept going, determined to lose these guys before anything else. Promising yourself that it would be smooth sailing from there, and yet just when you noticed that you hadn't run into a thug in a while-

Your face met the pavement.

Was that... blood-?

The fall was far from soft, with the rough ground scratching at your legs and further opening your wounds. Dragging its rough claws against your skin, and making your head feel like it was hit with a brick or mallet.

You hissed, wincing from the pain, as you look at the hand that had been holding your side this whole time. The sight made you pause.

"Find that little twerp! Kill them for all I care! Just FIND THEM!"

A thug, presumably the leader, shouted out suddenly. Causing you to quickly scramble up from the ground, and bite your tongue as you began to run again.

Holding your side, all you did was hope and pray for the best.

Unfortunately, another shout sounded from behind you, and before you knew it a thug appeared in front of you. Without thinking, you quickly slid under him by passing in between his legs, and managed to continue running. Your heart beating against your ribs, nearly breaking them with how hard it pounded. Yet soon, it was the only thing you could hear.

Ba-dump

You rushed past another thug, breathing heavily as your feet slamming on to the concrete. Hardly keeping you up right, but just trying to fling you forward.

Yet, another thug managed to get the jump on you.

Ba-dump

You were slammed face first into a wall, the impact was so harsh that no sound managed to escape you. All you could do was cough out blood as your struggled in the thug's hold, your gloved fingers clawing at the hand that held your throat.

He squeezed, and more blood came spilling out as you choked.

Ba-dump

You couldn't hear what the two thugs in front of you were saying, ears ringing and filled with your deafening heart beat. Your vision was getting blurry now, and even if you couldn't make out much, you could see how their scowls shifted into smirks. The thug's grasp on you tightening, causing you to struggle even more.

The looks they gave you was nothing short of terrifying. Pure malice and bloodlust stared at you, and all you could do was try to hide your fear. Knowing you'd see their faces again in your nightmares.

Thump

You trembled as your struggling increased.

Your heart hammered against your chest as your eyes widened, the realization dawning on you as you saw one of them adjust the hold they had on their bat. With the one choking you, winding back his fist, his expression darker than even the shadows of Gotham.

You were going to die here.

Thump.

You became frantic. Aiming for anything else you possibly could, as you threw various punches and kicks. Hardly even noticing how your poor efforts were only further irritating the men. Yet that was the least of your concerns.

You scratched at his arm, kicked his chest, tried to go for his eyes. Anything. Anything you could possibly reach, you tried to aim for. Your instincts kicking into high gear as you fought, and fought, and fought.

But at the end of the day, you were just a kid fighting against two grown adults.

You never stood a chance.

You were going to die here.

Thump.

... You don't remember much after that.

You could only recall hurriedly running up the stairs that were attached to the side of an apartment building, and could remember how you even got shot in the leg on the way up, but managed to carry on anyway, despite the wound and the new pain it brought.

You vividly remember just narrowly making a jump to another rooftop, completely out of breath. Adrenaline pumping through your viens so hard, and rushing so fast, that even as you fell into a dumpster, you still could hardly feel the pain. All you could remember after that, was darkness surrounding you as you slowly closed your eyes. Having tried to fight off sleep, but ultimately failing.

Even when you did come to, you were still in that dumpster, and the sun still having yet to rise. The smell of trash and blood was so awful, that no words could describe it. Though the smell was also so strong that you could barely smell it, at the very least. You couldn't focus, and everything felt fuzzy for a while as you just laid there.

You looked down at your hand, only to sigh softly. Right, you were still bleeding. Amazing.

Pain was all you could feel, but you knew you'd have to get up, especially if you didn't want to risk anyone finding you and mistaking you for a corpse. Let alone if someone from your family had found you now.

What would they even say? Would they even be able to look at you, after such a terrible first attempt? After you did so poorly, despite having tried to prepare for this so much, on your own? For them?

... What would Bruce say? What would he do?

..... You reluctantly got up. Your body hating you for it immediately, and that was made incredibly clear as pain shot through each and every inch of your body. Yet you still managed to push on, and by some miracle, was able to get out of the dumpster.

You felt as awful as you looked, that much you could tell, but tried to not think about. Walking — which was actually limping because of a certain wound you had — felt like a chore, but you toughed it out as you made your way through Gotham.

Before anyone could really see you, by yet another miracle, you were able to come across a small clothing store that was still open, as some clothes were still hanging outside.

You didn't bother looking for an employee or anything as you just grabbed the biggest hoodie you could find, and took it. You didn't care about the color too much, or any patterns or prints it might've had. All you knew was that it could cover most of your wounds for now, and help keep your identity hidden.

Shaking your head, you just pushed your thoughts to the side. You didn't need to think about that right now, especially not when you were injured. So you wouldn't. You didn't.

So, you slipped it on, but not before leaving some money behind by leaving it tapped on the door from the inside. A small note attached to it reading 'For the hoodie,' and nothing else. After all, you weren't actually trying to steal anything, and you didn't want to give anyone the impression that you were starting. You didn't want to think about what Bruce would do or say if he thought that, let alone the others.

You continued to walk, vaguely remembering where you could get supplies to help yourself, and heading towards the store. Ignoring all the weird looks people would give you when you passed them by, or noticed the trail of blood you were leaving behind. Their stares made you nervous, but you kept going. The humiliation settling in, and making a home for itself in you, as your chest felt heavy.

It's like they were cursing you with their eyes, and damning you to hell.

... The walk was fine for the most part. Painful, yes, but at this point you were already getting a little used to it. So you just moved along, and made your way into the store once you finally reached it.

For your own sake, you tried to be quick about it and grabbed what you needed. A first-aid kit never hurt, but you made sure to grab some other things as well.

So, you got to work and patched yourself up to the best of your ability. Remaining quiet all throughout as you tried to focus and concentrate. Using what you knew, you were able to decently take care of yourself — even if your stitching could use some work, it didn't look too horrible. Removing the bullet in your leg was another story, and though it was difficult, you managed.

Hospitals were out of the question since it'd be all over the news and your family would surely find out. Alfred was also part of the family, so allowing him to help you — let alone see your condition, was also out of the question. You'd just have to take care of this yourself. No one had to know.

Regardless, once you had everything, you paid, and quickly made your way up the stairs that was alongside another apartment building. This time you didn't climb all the way up, and instead stopped somewhere in the middle, and decided to patch yourself up there. Not wanting to risk going too high for your family to see you if they happened to pass by, but also not being too low for any thugs to see you and either finish the job, or put an end to your suffering.

So the middle seemed like the best option for now, even if you did risk some poor civilian seeing you and your horrible state. It was a risk worth taking compared to the other options you had, you thought as much at the time anyway.

Sunrays peaked inbetween the buildings, and lit up your tired and pained eyes. The sky shifted from its darker hues to much lighter ones. With morning birds singing their songs, and more people beginning to wake up and start their days.

Finally, the bleeding was beginning to stop, and all you could do was sigh in relief as you leaned against the wall, and looked to the side. Exhausted beyond belief, and feeling the weakest you've ever felt, but still somehow alive.

You stayed there for a while, just silently admiring as the night turned into day. Dried blood and bandages covering you, pain still evident but it was beginning to die down now. To think you'd make it to sunrise, it was almost unbelievable considering you had nearly died one too many times tonight. Your luck having made it possible to even get this far.

Maybe you'd cry, but it didn't feel right to do so. The pain you felt was enough of a reminder of your failure. Your current state was enough of a reality check.

You weren't like your family, that much was clear.

You just weren't cut out for this. You weren't slow, but you were sloppy. You weren't weak, but you weren't strong enough. You had skill, but you lacked proper technique. You had plans, but your execution was poor. You needed to train, you needed practice and have proper guidance, but where would you even go for that? Who could you go to? If you went to your family at this point, and found out about last night...

You couldn't do what they managed to accomplish every night. Even on your first attempt, you couldn't even manage to do half of what they could. You were reckless, and ultimately overestimated your own abilities despite knowing this wouldn't be easy, and ended up underestimating your opponents. It nearly got you killed, and had you not managed to get yourself out of that situation, you would've died.

You had gotten lucky with so many things last night, and if you were to do this every night like your family, you couldn't just depend on luck. You couldn't have a repeat of last night. You'd surely die that way.

You didn't want to think about what they'd say, the thought alone was painful enough.

Sighing, you just looked away from the sun, and up at the sky, watching as the colors continued to shift.

You wanted to do this on your own to prove yourself. To prove you could do what your family did, and show that you had something to offer. That you could do amazing things and help out too, but you fell flat. You couldn't even handle a group of thugs — how would you be able to handle anything else? What about robberies? Kidnappings? Murders? What about theft, or things dealing with that? How would you deal with anything else if you couldn't even handle the lowest guys in Gotham?

That's the thing, you wouldn't be able to.

If you couldn't even handle a few thugs, you wouldn't be able to do much else. Not at your current level anyway, but how long would it take you to improve? To get better? To be on the same level as your family? To stand by them, and know you were apart of something?

... Maybe you really weren't cut out for this.

To think you once dreamed of standing beside them, helping them, and most of all — making them proud as you held your own weight and then some. Making Gotham a better place right by their side.

It seems so silly now, and maybe that's because it was.

You were hopeless from the start.

Your heart felt so heavy in your chest, the realization causing the organ to squeeze, but you just let it be, and sat with it.

There were other ways you could grab their attention. Other ways that didn't include throwing yourself at death time and time again, and praying you'd live to see another sunrise. This was just... a bump in the road, but you'd have other opportunities! You could do other things to grab their attention and — and maybe you'd even make them proud in the process.

Yeah, there were still other things you could do. You couldn't give up now!

Sure, being a vigilante didn't work out, but that's okay! You'd just have to find something else, it's alright. You'd find something, you were sure of it. You'd find something and be so good at it that they'd have to acknowledge you — hopefully.

You could work something out. After all, there were countless other things you could do besides being a vigilante! Surely one of those things could grab their attention, and maybe if you just worked hard enough and perfected it so much, that they'd acknowledge you — and most of all? Be proud of you.

You'd show them that you had a place in this family, without a mask. You'd show them. You'd prove yourself to them, you would. You will!

Though to start, you'd make your way back home, and just keep what happened last night to yourself. You'd form a plan, think of something, and see it out til the very end. You'd show that you could do great things too besides protecting Gotham from Villians and thugs. That maybe someday, you could make a difference too.

So, with a new hope and dream in your heart, stood up and began making your way down the steps. The sun rising along with your own determination to start on this new path. Making your way back to the Manor, unaware of the misfortune to befall you.

Sometimes, no matter the effort, some things just aren't meant to be. You still had yet to learn that lesson at the time, and even when you eventually would, they'd ruin that too.

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dc #platonic yandere #sibling reader #gn reader

424 notes · View notes

mountttmase · 4 months

Text

Winter Sun - Chapter 4

Note - chapter four already 🤭 we’re over halfway now and I really hope you’re enjoying it so far. Thank you so much for all you lovely people who send me feedback, I appreciate you than I could tell you 😘 this chapter is extra cheeky so buckle up and I’d love to hear what you think 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7.8k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

Your tummy had been churning since you woke up. Partly from the nerves of today but also from thinking about what you and Mason had gotten up to last night. The way he'd handled you with such roughness but praised you at the same time had made you head spin and you could feel your knees buckle as you thought about his wet body pressed tightly to yours.

An incoming call made you snap out of your thoughts, Carly’s face filling the screen and you picked it up with a smile.

‘Good morning, sunshine’ you sang down the phone. Popping the last few bits you needed into your bag and her light chuckle made you smile.

‘Good morning to you too. Are you nearly ready?’

‘Yeah just getting the last of my stuff together’

‘Okay well Mason overslept so him and the boys are gonna follow on once he’s ready. I thought we could go for a little early girly breakfast with the others’

‘Ooo yeah okay I’ll be up in a sec’ you told her before popping your shoes on and meeting the others upstairs.

It was only a ten minute walk to the harbour and you managed to find a cute little cafe along the waters edge so you could order some coffee and pastries and wait for the boys. You’d been sat talking for around half an hour when Kayla said she spotted the boys coming, the four of them laughing and joking until they got closer and saw what they’d missed out on.

‘You made us miss breakfast’ Dec groaned, flopping down next to Lauren but thankfully she’d saved him something.

‘Don’t you start’ Mason groaned, trying to fit himself onto the sofa next to you before picking up your glass of orange juice so he could take a big gulp.

‘What happened Mase?’ Lauren asked as the boys surrounded the table but he just huffed as he placed his arm around the back of you.

‘I was exhausted when I got to bed last night and I must have forgotten to set an alarm for today’ he explained, reaching for the half eaten croissant on your plate and taking a bite out of the end.

‘Was turning the alarm off last night really that stressful?’ Woody laughed and you had to bite back your smile. Looking up at him carefully but the small wink he sent you made your heart flutter.

‘What do you think?’ You asked him quietly, head nodding to the pastry in his hands be he just shrugged and threw it back onto the plate.

‘S’alright. Never as good as yours though’

‘You flatter me’ you laughed, rolling your eyes before turning back to the group. ‘Woody? How are you feeling this morning?’

‘Alright I think. I think the sun got to me yesterday and then all that drink, I just couldn’t handle it’

‘You wait till I get you on that boat’ Dec teased, a mischievous look plastered across his features. ‘I’m gonna rock it until you throw up’

You let the boys bicker amongst themselves. Watching Ben pay for everyone’s breakfast sneakily and when he’d seen you’d caught him he looked at you with a guilty expression.

‘You didn’t have to do that Ben, we could of got it’

‘Its fine I-‘

‘Where do I pay’ you suddenly heard behind you, Carly rummaging through her bag to try and find her purse but you managed to stop her before she emptied her whole bag out.

‘Your delight of a boyfriend has already paid for everyone’ you told her, watching her face soften as she reached over to hold him by his cheeks.

‘Oh Benji, that’s so sweet you didn't need to do that’ she told him sweetly, bringing her lips up to his so she could kiss him deeply so you thought you’d let them have their moment. Going back to join the others so you could make your way over to the boat with Dec and Lauren as Mason trailed behind talking to Woody but as soon as you were about to climb on board he snuck in front of you so he could help you climb on. Blushing as he held his hand out for you.

There was space at the back for all your stuff. Everyone stripping down to their swimwear and excitedly walking around but you waited until everyone had mostly gone before you got changed.

‘I’m sorry, what the hell are you wearing?’ Mason asked quietly after everyone had moved to the front of the boat and it was finally just the two of you. His face was unreadable and you weren’t exactly sure what to say.

Your heart sank at his words, looking down at the bright orange set you’d picked especially for him because you thought he’d love it but his tone seemed angry almost and you gulped as you crossed your arms over yourself.

‘What do you mean?’ You asked quietly, not wanting to look up at him as you thought you’d done something wrong but the feeling of his hands on your wrists so he could uncross your arms made you look up at him shyly.

‘You don’t make this easy for me Muffin, you know that right? How am I meant to act like I don’t wanna fuck your brains out every time I look at you when you’re gonna be walking around like this all day’ he told you with a smile and you realised it wasn’t the fact he didnt like what you were wearing, he actually liked it a little too much. ‘I mean what even is this?’ He laughed, fingers gripping the material that hung on your hips.

‘It’s a sarong’ you whispered, shivering as his hand dipped past the split in the skirt so he could grip your thigh. ‘I didn’t wanna walk around in just a bikini all day so it's just a bit of a cover up, that’s all’

‘Well it's making me lose my mind’ he told you quietly, pulling you closer to his body so he could hide is face in your neck. ‘You’re so sexy and you don't even try’

‘You can talk’ you laughed, trying to brush his compliments away as you could feel the effects they were having on you become stronger by the minute. But you also wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. ‘You think its easy for me watching you walk around with just those little shorts on?’ You laughed, feeling him laugh into your neck as he shook his head slightly. ‘Let’s just try and keep it in our pants, yeah?’

‘I’ll try’ he huffed, pulling back to look at you and the blush across his cheeks made your heart thump. ‘Will you help me with my sun cream?’

‘Of course’ you whispered. ‘Go save us a spot and I’ll be over in a second’ you told him, letting him join the others as you calmed yourself down a little. Once you found the cream you went and sat by him and began to help him apply it, noticing Declan eyeing you curiously from the other side of the boat but you ignored him for now until he made his way over.

‘I think were gonna take turns jumping off the side, you both joining?’

‘Oh um…’ you stuttered, not wanting to be a party pooper but Mason was handing you his phone with a wink.

‘Yeah I’m coming. Y/n promised to get some shots of us’ Mason explained, helping you up so you could join them on the side but he found you somewhere safe to sit so you wouldn’t fall in if the boat swayed about too much.

‘Hey Mase, why have you got a third nipple?’ Woody suddenly questioned. Everyone’s eyes flashing down to Masons chest and the small purple bruise you’d left there last night but you could tell Mason was floundering straight away.

‘Oh that? It’s nothing I just uh- I dropped my shower gel last night and it hit me in the chest’ he lied but you could tell none of the other boys believed him.

‘I wondered what that crash was last night, I could hear it from across the hall’ you chimed in, hoping a bit of support from you would make his silly lie a bit more believable and thankfully it worked. The rest of them making jokes at how clumsy he was before he sent you a quick wink in thanks.

He was trying to impress you, each jump higher and more dangerous than the last and each time he hit the water you felt your heart thump in fear but his little smile as he surfaced always made you feel better.

You left the boys to themselves for a bit, joining the girls for a gossip so you could top up your tan whilst you laughed at the boys trying out silly flips and hearing Masons excited little scream made you giggle.

‘You make sure you don’t hurt yourselves' Carly called over to them before Ben made his way back to her, leaving sloppy wet kisses over her face as his wet hair dangled over her skin causing her to shriek from the sensation. ‘What the hell, Ben you’re all wet’

‘I swear to god Woody, you come near me like that and I'll scream’ Kayla laughed, sitting up as Woody made a move for her, but in the end he grabbed a towel so he could dry off before sitting by her. Dec seemed to have the same idea and knew not to get Lauren wet but you knew Mason was about to do something silly.

You watched him carefully, his towel thrown over his head like a tent as he smiled down at you cheekily but you were slightly distracted watching the stray drops of water travel down his perfect body until they got lost in the waistband of his shorts. You knew he was looking at your mesmerised face and before you knew it everyone began to laugh as he came and laid directly on top of you.

‘You alright there, Mase?’

‘I’m okay’ he laughed, snuggling down into your neck and the cold water made you shiver. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine. I mean there’s a heavy weight on me right now but apart from that I’m great’

‘Hey I’m not that heavy’ he moaned, slyly kissing your neck out of the view of everyone else before placing his lips by your ear. ‘Do you ever get sea sick?’

‘Not really, why?’

‘Do you think you could pretend?’ He asked, sliding off you a little so he could rest on his arm and look down at you.

‘Why? You asked with a laugh but his cheeky smirk let you know already.

‘Cause if I don’t do something about the hard on you give me every time I look at you I don’t know what i'll do next’ he explained. ‘Just pretend so I can take you inside and we can be alone for a bit’

‘Just give me some time to get into character. I’ve been sat here chatting like I’m fine I can’t just suddenly be sick’ you explained, watching him excitedly nod at you with a laugh before he got up. Joining the boys again to leave you to it and as the minutes passed, you got quieter and quieter. Resting one hand on your head as the other sat on your tummy and it only took about 15 minutes for everyone to realise something was wrong.

‘Are you okay, y/n? Lauren asked. ‘You’ve gone awfully quiet’

‘I think it's just a little bit of sea sickness, I’m sure it’ll pass’ you smiled but Mason's head was popping up instantly. Ready to get in on the action and make out like you were worse than you were so he grabbed a water bottle and came and sat next to you again.

‘Have you had enough to drink?

‘I’m not sure’

‘You look pale as anything’ he told you, placing a hand on your forehead and making a concerned face. ‘Maybe I should take you inside for a bit, grab you some water and we can stay out of the sun until you start feeling better’

‘Yeah okay, I think that’s for the best’

You let him help you up, holding onto his arm for support as he wrapped an arm around your waist and slowly walked you away from everyone and you thought you’d be away without any issues until someone spoke up.

‘You two gonna be alright? Dec asked, an unreadable tone to his voice but Mason was quick to jump in and reassure him.

‘Yeah, she’ll be fine. I could do with getting out the sun for a bit anyway’ he told him, walking further out of sight. ‘You guys carry on and we’ll be back when she’s better’

As soon as you were out of sight around the side of the boat you couldn’t help but let the giggles take over. ‘I can’t believe they fell for that’ you laughed quietly, opening the door that led to the inside and as soon as you took the first step down you felt him slap your bum gently.

‘Come on Kate Winslet, i’ll sort your Oscar out later’ he teased but as soon as you made it downstairs you realised there would be an issue.

‘We can’t just do it out here’ you told him, looking around at the wide open space. ‘What if someone comes down to check on us? They’ll see everything’

He knew you were right, looking around the room with his lip trapped between his teeth until his eyes fell on the bathroom door and you watched them light up.

‘You can’t be serious’ you laughed, not wanting to to do anything with him in there but he’d already made his mind up and was walking over.

‘This is our only option, come on it’s fine’ he laughed, opening the door and ushering you in. The bathroom was pretty nice and you watched him sit the lid of the toilet down before taking a seat and tapping his thighs. ‘I know it’s not the height of luxury but I’m desperate’

‘I suppose it’s something I can tick off my bucket list’ you huffed, hands reaching to take off your bottoms but one look from him let you know he wanted the sarong left on.

Once you were ready, he shifted his shorts down to free himself before tapping his thighs again so you’d come and sit on him but there was something in the back of your mind that you wanted to do and now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

‘Come on muffin, you know what to do’ he teased, the cheeky smirk on his face driving you wild but you just stood looking at him with your lip trapped between your teeth.

You did know what to do. You knew exactly what he wanted but there was a little voice in the back of your head that was telling you to ignore him and do what you wanted to do. Something you’d been thinking about for days so when you dropped down on your knees in front of him he gave you a confused look.

‘Can I have a taste first please Masey?’ You asked sweetly, taking him in your hand as you looked up at him through your lashes and a sense of pride filled you at the way he was looking at you. His mouth slightly agape as if he wasn’t sure you were being serious but as you began to press kisses to his thighs he nodded his head. Looking on in awe as you licked a long stripe up his length before taking him into your mouth.

‘Jesus Christ, y/n’ he huffed, his hand holding the back of your neck as you worked on him and you felt your legs clench together as the noises falling from his lips.

Mason always liked to keep it very pg in front of the cameras and you knew he swore around his friends but you never knew he had such a filthy mouth until right now. Grunts and groans pouring from him as he repeatedly told you what a good girl you were. That were his good girl and he couldn’t wait to have you so you figured you’d put him out of his misery and came off of him with a pop.

‘Come up here’ he whispered, pulling you up by your arms so you could straddle him and without wasting a second you lined him up and sank down onto him. Giving your hips one roll forward but that was as far as you got before you heard a loud voice and footsteps coming down the stairs inside.

‘Where are you two?’ Dec called, his voice far away but closer than you wanted it to be and the pair of you looked at each other in shock. Almost frozen in fear as if you didn’t know what to do but thankfully Mason took over to try and bail the two of you out.

‘In the bathroom mate. She’s really not well-‘

He was cut off by the feeling of you rolling your hips on top of him. Not caring the Dec was outside the door and this could possibly end very badly but you wanted to teach him a lesson for dragging you down here so he could get his own away.

‘Let me in’ he laughed, trying the handle but luckily enough for you Mason had remembered to lock it.

‘No no no! she’s not well’ Mason shouted. Panicking that you’d be caught in a precarious position but thankfully the door didn’t budge. ‘She’s throwing up she doesn’t want an audience’ he managed to get out, your hips still moving as you tried not to moan and from the way he was gripping your waist you knew he was finding it difficult too.

In the midst of the slight panic you did all you could think of to help and began making fake sick noises. Feeling mason pull you closer, hiding in your neck to silence his laughs as they sounded so terrible before quickly kissing you to make you stop.

‘Do you need me to get anything’

‘No, just go back up and let her sort herself out’ he told him, voice wavering from the way you were making him feel and unfortunately Dec heard.

‘Are you alright mate, you don’t sound too good yourself’

‘I’m fine, just not good with sick. We’ll be back up soon just keep out the way for now’ Mason pleaded. Hoping that would be enough for him to go and before long you both heard him walk back up the steps and shut the door causing you to look at each other again with stupid smiles as you let out a moan in unison.

‘I don’t think you deserve that Oscar now after that performance’ he teased. Pulling down your bikini on one side so he could attach his lips to your chest and the new sensation made you squeeze around him. ‘Just couldn’t wait to fuck me huh?’

‘Nuh uh, and I was under pressure’ you laughed, your head falling forwards until you were touching again and after a quick kiss Mason's lips were by your ear.

‘I need you to keep moving those hips for me, Muffin. Show me how grateful you are for me saving you’ he teased. Hands trailing up and down your back gently as you let out a little chuckle but he was right. You owed him one this time so you did as he asked. Bouncing up and down on him like your life depended on it but as soon as his thumb connected to your clit you knew you were done for.

Thankfully for you, Mason wasn’t far behind you. Your high inducing his own and once you’d calmed down he pulled you into a hug and you both sat there for a few minutes in each other’s embrace as you got your breath back. His fingers trailing across your skin lightly before he nuzzled into your neck so you could hold each other tighter. Both content in the other’s embrace and not caring if it was allowed or not.

‘Come on, we should head back up’ you sighed, getting yourself off of him with a hiss and you quickly dressed yourselves before making sure you looked presentable.

‘Remember you're sick when you’re up there. Don't blow our cover’

‘Well you’ve tired me out so I’ll probably just take a nap’ you laughed. Letting him kiss your check before you both made an appearance again. Carly calling you over to her side and you spent the rest of the time on the boat next to her as she looked after you and kept you hydrated.

‘You’re looking a bit better than before’ she smiled after a little while so you nodded up to her as you sat up properly.

‘Maybe i ate something I shouldn’t have, I feel a lot better now. Thank you for looking after me’

‘What are best friends for’ she laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders so she could pull you in and even though you felt bad for lying to her, you were so thankful to have a friend like her to look after you.

You all decided to head back in around 4pm, wanting to get back to the villa for a shower and you all decided you didn’t want a late one tonight after your night before and your packed day today so you found a restaurant in the main town that could fit you all in. Just like clockwork, Mason was next to you with his arm resting on the back of your chair and you felt like a schoolgirl as you looked at him in his tight vest that was under his open shirt and baggy trousers that showed off his bum perfectly.

You couldn’t deny you loved it though, feeling like he was claiming you in front of everyone. Like you belonged to someone and when your eyes met his repeatedly throughout the night you felt the excitement rush through you knowing what you’d done earlier and what you could still do when you got back.

‘Are you ordering dessert?’ You asked him, unsure if you were able to handle one but the cheeky bite of his lip as he looked you up and down let you know he wasn’t about to give a sensible answer.

‘I mean there’s definitely something sweet I’ve been thinking about eating all day but I think I’ll have to wait till we’re back at the villa to enjoy it’

‘Mason’ you scolded quietly, looking around in fear on the off chance that someone heard but they all seem to be wrapped up in their own conversations thankfully.

‘What? There’s a slice of cheesecake in the fridge I got when we went shopping. I’ve been saving it’ he told you before dragging your chair a little closer to his. ‘I’m sorry, Muffin. You wanna split one?’

‘I’m not so sure now’ you laughed, knowing your cheeks were blood red and you didn’t want anyone to be suspicious so you held your menu up to your face in hopes no one would be able to see you.

‘Oh don’t be like that’ he laughed, hand creeping over your thigh as he moved his head next to yours. Dropping a kiss on your cheek as no one could see you both now but it only made you blush even harder. ‘Come on, you pick what you want and I’ll just eat whatever you leave’

‘Bit like my breakfast this morning huh?’

‘Well I was hungry and it was your bloody fault I was late anyway’

‘How was it-‘

‘Excuse me’ you suddenly heard, dropping the menu down so both of your faces were revealed. The whole table looking at you with curious eyes before Dec carried on speaking. ‘What the hell are you two doing?’

‘Looking at the puds. Its dark in here I couldn’t see’ Mason defended before his eyes shot back to the menu. Trying to make it look like he was carrying on what he was doing before but you knew he was acting and it took all of your power not to laugh at him.

You ordered the chocolate cake in the end, taking it in turns to have a mouthful as you spoke between yourselves but it wasn’t long before Dec was piping up again.

‘Is there something you two wanna tell us?’ Dec laughed, waving his fork in between you and you felt your face flush as everyone turned to look at you both.

‘Mate, stop it’ Mason started but Dec was in a teasing mood unfortunately and you felt yourself sink back into the chair.

‘You don’t leave each other alone’

‘We’re the only two single people here, yeah? What do you want us to do? Third wheel you guys all the time? We’re just talking Dec, can you not? You making y/n uncomfortable now stop it’ Mason told him, trying to defend the pair of you as you had been acting innocently for the most part over dinner and now you felt like you weren’t allowed to even look at Mason without someone saying something.

Thankfully Lauren stepped in, telling Dec off for being immature and upsetting you and Mason but even after he apologised you still felt weird. Letting Mason know he could finish it so you wouldn’t get caught being too close and the sad look in his eyes made your tummy churn.

‘Please just ignore him, he thinks he’s funny and he’s not’ Mason told you quietly and even though you tried to send him a reassuring smile, you didn’t feel like you could talk to him how you were before. Choosing to walk home with Carly and Ben so no one thought anything else was going on but you knew Mason had pulled Dec aside to have a go at him as soon as you got back.

You were treating yourself to a drink in the kitchen when you felt someone walk in, looking up to see Declan looking at you with a face full of sorrow so you smiled at him sympathetically.

‘I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to be rude at dinner. And all the other times’

‘It’s fine-‘

‘No it’s not. Mase told me you’re finding it difficult being here with all the couple’s and you’d made a pact to stick together so I’m sorry for making you feel weird about it’ he explained, taking a seat at the island and you could sense he wanted to talk further about it so you took up the seat opposite him. ‘Truth is, I’d love for him to be with someone like you. He’s been single for a while but he picks all the wrong people, it’s exhausting’ he laughed, eyes lighting up in humour as you laughed along with him. ‘I just think you could be what he needs, but I’m sorry for pushing it, I bet I sound insane’

‘You sound like a concerned father’ you joked, making him laugh before he stood up to pull you into a hug. ‘But you know I want the same for him, that’s just not what this is. We’re friends and that’s it’

‘Well I’ll stop acting like a pushy parent now and leave it. But please don’t be awkward around him or anything cause I know he likes hanging out with you and I don’t wanna mess it up’

‘It’s fine, I’ll pretend none of this even happened’ you nodded, pulling back so you could grab your drink but you made sure to get Mason another bottle from the fridge before you made your way outside.

It was still early by everyone else’s standards, all choosing to come back and have a few drinks and a chat round the fire out where you could actually hear yourselves think but when Dec took his seat you realised there were only two left. One next to Kayla and one next to Mason and even though the events of tonight were still fresh and you’d wonder what everyone thought, you pushed through it and took up the seat next to Mason. The biggest smile on his face now that you were back with him as you popped his fresh bottle on the table in front of him. Your heart giving a thump as he wrapped his arm around the back of you and pressed a barely there kiss to your temple.

‘Thanks, Muffin’

‘Just doing my job’ you laughed but he shook his head playfully in response.

Mason kept his arm around the back of you the whole time and eventually you forgot Dec’s words from earlier. But for Mason it had only made him want to tease you even more it seemed, dropping his arm from the chair so it was draped around your back as he secretly stroked his fingers up and down your waist.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, wondering why he was being so touchy after everything that had been said tonight but he just smiled down at you before placing his lips by your ear.

‘You look really nice l tonight, by the way’ he whispered. Your face heating up immediately as you weren’t used to compliments like this from him. He’d never said anything of the sort the whole time you’d known him and you did all you could think of and tried to deflect and be silly with him.

‘You don’t look too bad yourself’

‘What high praise’ he laughed, resting his head on top of yours as he squeezed you a little tighter. ‘You know I’ve been thinking about that cheesecake in the fridge ever since dinner’ he told you and you rolled your eyes at how hungry he always seemed to be but you could tell from the tone of his voice that just like in the restaurant, he wasn’t talking about cheesecake.

‘You can eat for England sometimes I swear’

‘What, it tastes nice’

‘What sort of cheesecake is it anyway?’

‘It’s this new one, I tried it at the beginning of the week actually’ he told you with a cheeky smirk and you wondered what game he was playing. ‘I’ve been looking at it and wanting to try it for a while but I finally got a taste the other day and now I just want it all the time’

‘Oh yeah?’ You questioned, knowing for definite his words had a double meaning as the dark look in his eyes was making you think he wanted you right now.

‘Mhmmm’ he drawled, squeezing your hip teasingly and you knew exactly what he was talking about ‘I think i might have a serious problem’

‘Well don’t leave it in the fridge for too long, someone else might eat it’ you teased and you watched his face fall just a touch before he smiled at you again.

‘No way, it’s my cheesecake this week’ he teased and even though the pair of you were laughing together you felt weird at him specifying it was this week only.

Mason seemed to be on a mission to tease you for the rest of the night. Touching you and stroking your skin in places that he knew would get him in trouble. Kissing your head and whispering directly into your ear and you knew he was doing it so that when you were finally alone you’d be wound up enough to let him have you but little did he know you were out for a little bit of revenge.

‘I think I’ll head to bed now’ Mason announced to the group and you knew exactly what that meant. He was expecting you to follow him but after the way he’d been teasing you all night you were ready to give it back to him. You let everyone say good night, Ben and Dec announcing they’d be following him in a second and as soon the others were out of ear shot a you turned to him.

‘So soon?’ You asked, batting your eyelashes innocently which caused him to eye you curiously. You were pushing your luck, like you had been all evening, and you knew it but you weren’t about to give up now.

‘Yeah, it’s been a long day. Are you not tired?’

‘Not even a little bit’ you replied, winking as you took another sip of you drink. ‘Me and the girls have got plans to play a few drinking games’

‘Oh… okay then’

‘Sweet dreams, Mase. See you in the morning?’ you smiled, kissing his cheek but not waiting for his reply as you made your way back over to where the girls were sat. There were no plans for any drinking games but he didn’t need to know that. You were just waiting to see how long it would be before before he text you to join him or if that didn’t happen then you’d surprise him but the more worked up he was getting the better.

It only took 15 minutes for your phone to buzz, Masons name popping up and making you bite your lip to hold back a smile before you let the girls know you were off to bed too before you all made your way back inside. Them taking the stairs up to their rooms as you went down to yours and Masons floor.

You didn’t reply to him, the anticipation too much for you already so you gently knocked and after his faint come in you stepped inside and locked the door behind you.

Mason was sat in the chair behind the desk to the side of his bed, his back to you but as soon as you stepped in the room he slowly turned in the seat to face you. Arms crossed over his chest to show you he was annoyed but his thighs were wide and legs on show in those shorts you loved so much. His face was set, eyes burning into you as he gave you the once over before they settled on your face and you knew you were in for it.

‘You summoned me’

‘I want you to strip for me’ he told you seriously, ignoring the little laugh that came from you at his suggestion but it only to a moment to realise he was being serious.

‘Mase, I-‘

‘I’m waiting’

It was clear to see he wasn’t playing around, a tingle making its way up your spine as you looked back at him. Heat rising to your cheeks as thought over what you were about to do, something you’d never done for anyone, but even though Mason seemingly had turned into an absolute devil it had been your mission to wind him up and you now had the possibility to get under his skin even further.

It was a risk but you trusted Mason so you got to work.

You didn’t take your eyes from his, fingers heading straight to the top button of your dress so you could slowly undo them one by one and you watched as he started to shift in his seat as your hands got lower and lower. You couldn’t tell if you wanted you to slow down or hurry up as his eyes raked over your body. His hands moving to sit in his lap so he could fiddle with his fingers as he took in a nervous gulp and the way he was reacting to you gave you a little boost.

Once all the buttons were undone, you trailed your hands back up your body, slowly prying the fabric apart to give him a glimpse of the white laced underwear set you’d put on in hopes he’d see at some point tonight but you didn’t think he’d be seeing it like this.

As soon as your dress his the floor you watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, dark eyes seemingly lost as he couldn’t keep up with where he wanted to look and the shuddery breath that left his lips send a tingle down to your core. You were in the drivers seat now it seemed as he looked at you with flushed cheeks and his lip between his teeth but that was all over when you bent down to untie the strap on your heel.

‘Nuh uh. Keep the shoes on’

‘Seriously?’

‘My game, my rules’ he told you, his confident persona now back it seemed as he lent forward with his elbows on his thighs so he could get a better look at you. ‘Carry on’

The mood had shifted again, Mason with the upper hand so you turned away from him, giving him a view of your bum in the lacey thong you had on before reaching up to unhook your bra. As soon it was off you moved your hair to the side so your back was bare for him and you could hear him shuffling around behind you, not content that he couldn’t see what he wanted to and you tried to hold back a smile at the state you were getting him in.

‘Turn around’

‘Patience is a virtue, Mason’ you teased, sticking your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear so you could tug them down, your hips swaying from side to side a little as you pulled them lower before you bent over for him so you could drop them to the floor and step out of them.

Only then did you slowly turn for him, watching his eyes automatically fly to your chest before making their way down your body so he could drink up every last inch of you. You loved the way he always looked at you, like it was the first time and he couldn’t believe what you were hiding under your clothes but once again he switched. Back to his cocky self and you watched as he nodded his head towards the bed next to him with a serious face. ‘Lay down for me’

You did exactly what he said, not messing around as you were quite liking the way he was being with you so you crawled on top and got settled as he stood up. Standing at the end of the bed fully dressed whilst he looked over you naked body before he nudged your legs apart with his knee so he could rest himself in between your thighs.

‘You were really gonna make we wait huh? I’m glad you came to your senses’ he murmured, lips trailing across your chest before licking a stripe up between your boobs until he got to the base of your throat where he left a light kiss. ‘I was gonna make you suffer for that but since you were such a good girl and did what I asked I think I might go lightly on you’

The butterflies in your stomach were swarming, unsure if you wanted him to take it lightly on your or you wanted him to drag everything out but you knew either way he was in the mood to make you feel good. He was unpredictable though and you weren’t sure what he had in store for you so when he got himself settled to the side of you with your leg trapped between his and the mattress you looked up at him curiously.

He paid no attention to you though, picking up your opposite arm and popping a finger in his mouth so he could wet it before positioning it in between your thighs.

‘Get yourself started and I’ll help you in a minute okay?’ He told you lowly. ‘I wanna watch you first’

You didn’t bother arguing, you knew he’d get his own way eventually so you did what he asked, slowly circling over yourself the way you loved. You just pretended he wasn’t there and got into it like you did when you were alone and he mostly left you to it but once you felt his lips around your nipple you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan.

‘You gonna let me take over now?’ He spoke against your chest and you finally made eye contact with him, his dark orbs on yours and you managed a feeble nod as his hand met yours to pull it away from you before he laid down in between your legs with your thighs pushed up so you were completely on show for him.

He was clearly still feeling devious as he pressed open mouthed kisses all over the backs of your thighs it made sure to stay away from where you needed him most until you started to squirm and he playfully bit your thigh.

‘Stay still’

‘Come on, Mase. I can’t take it anymore’

‘Poor baby. You think this is bad you wait till you see what I’ve got planned for you’

‘But you said you would go lightly on me’ you mumbled, words barely making it out of your mouth as they inched closer to where you needed him.

‘I tell you what, if you promise to keep your hands to yourself I’ll give you what you want right now’ he told you, chuckling as he watched you place your hands under your head so you weren’t tempted to touch him. ‘See, I’ve got you well trained already’

‘I swear to god Mason if you don’t-‘

Your words were cut off by the feeling of his tongue finally connecting with your clit. Short sharp flicks that made your whole body tingle and the most obscene noises to pour from your throat which caused the grip he had on your thighs to tighten a little bit.

‘I wanted to make you suffer for a bit longer but you taste too good’ he moaned, diving back in to play with you as only he knew how and the fact that you couldn’t touch him was making you insane.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t watch him though and you melted at the way he was looking back up at you, a cheeky smile on his lips as he knew how good he was making you feel from the way you were grinding your hips down onto his mouth.

As soon as his right hand started to venture down you knew what was happening and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of his fingers, crying out as he finally began pumping them in and out of you and it was almost as if he’d hit fast forward on your high. His name tumbling out of your mouth in anticipation but just as it was about to hit he stopped all of his movements and your high fizzled away into thin air.

‘What the fuck?’

‘I think you need teaching a lesson young lady’ he laughed, licking his fingers before kissing your thigh again.

‘Are you seriously gonna edge me?’

‘A few times yes. Then you’ll know how I felt having to come here in my own and wait for you’

‘I think I know enough already, please Mase I wanna cum’

‘And you will, I promise’ he told you and you felt like screaming.

But that’s what he did, got you close to your high another two times before stoping just short and you couldn’t be more frustrated if you tried. Every time he took you closer than the last until you were at the point of tears and your frustrations got the better of you.

‘Mase, please. I can’t do it anymore’ you sobbed thrashing your arms when he stopped again and his cocky smile did nothing to settle you.

‘I know, Muffin. I promise I’ll let you next time yeah? I want you cum around me though’ he whispered into your neck, rising up to rid himself of his shirt and you watched through hooded eyes as he undressed the rest of himself. Even the sight of him doing that had you teetering on the edge again. He was perfect and you had to stop the moan that almost came out when he sprung up against his tummy. He was as ready for you as you were for him and when he got settled between your legs again you didn’t have the energy to move.

The feeling of him inside of you was like nothing else, sure his fingers were heaven but there was something different about this. Like he was made for your pleasure and you sighed contently as he filled you to the hilt.

‘I’ll never get over the feeling of you’ he whispered in your ear hoarsely, the sound making you shiver as he began to move his hips. ‘You’re absolutely unreal’

‘Mase-‘ you started but his lips on yours cut you off. He hadn’t kissed you once since you’d got back tonight and the feeling made your heart thud as he poured himself into you. The feeling of him being so gentle with you a stark contrast to how he’d been playing with you this evening and as he pulled away you could tell how close he was.

‘You’ve been so good for me. Keep looking at me yeah? Let me see those pretty eyes so I know how good I’m making you feel’ he mumbled and you cried out as you felt your high coming for the countless time tonight. ‘Go on, you can cum I won’t stop you’

You were seeing stars as you tumbled over the finish line, the most intense high you’d ever experienced thrashing through you as he carried on pounding into you so you could ride your highs out together and you felt like your whole body was singing. Yes you’d been the most frustrated you’d ever been tonight but you’d take it ten times over to have the feeling you had right now. Nothing compared to this and as your foggy eyes looked up to Mason you knew you had a good thing going.

Even if it was just for a week.

y/n

liked by masonmount, laurenfryer_, declanrice and others

y/n Taking the sea-nic route ⛵️

view comments

declanrice you’re spending so much time with Mason you’re even coming up with with shit puns like he does

masonmount excuse me

y/n who do you think wrote it for me 😌

carlywlms_ glad you’re feeling better missy 🩷

y/n thank you for taking care of me 😘

masonmount 😶

y/n you too 😉

okaylaaa imagine that was the last picture of woody and I ever taken. Plunging to our deaths

woody_ bloody hell love

y/n food for thought. Glad you’re still alive though 😭

masonmount how many did you take of me with my shirt off?

y/n that’s for me to know and for you never to find out 😌

rasmus.hoejlund I hope Mason has been getting some training in too

masonmount don’t worry mate, I’ve been getting my blood pumping at least once a day. Sometimes twice 😉

y/n 🤨

laurenfryer_ today was just the best 🩷

y/n it really was 🥺

benchilwell no pictures of me in my in my shorts?

y/n @carlywlms_ has them under lock and key so I can’t show you off

carlywlms_ too right, that’s MY man

masonprivate and the award goes to 🏆

y/n 👏🏻🤭

Tagged: @footiehoemcfc @prideofpd @yoursselo @chelseachilly @willow-writer-ivy @mm-vii @katharinanadiaa @mmountseb @carlottawllms @saltyheartnightmare @masonmtxo @harvestmount @chillymountsjess @treblebluesblog @pulisicsgirl @bluesswift @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps

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stellamancer · 2 months

Text

considerate (reader x satoru gojo)

notes: blah blah blah comfort fic. lmaoo. um, i love steamed buns. i bought some frozen pizza buns from my local japanese grocery store during the writing process. they are indeed good. if you have never had them i hope you get to try one day.

contains: f!reader (inferred to be wearing lingerie), tsundere-ish reader, eating food, gojo. part of the infinite loop fic verse

wc: 2k || read on ao3 (account required)

All you want to do is sleep.

It’s been a rough week— three difficult missions back to back with no time to rest in between. By the time you’d finished the last one, you were practically dead on your feet. It’s times like these that you’re glad for the room you have on the campus of Jujutsu High; you think you’ll collapse before you can make it back to your actual apartment.

In fact, you almost do anyway– you’re barely through the door of your room when the exhaustion tries to take you by force. It takes every fiber of your being to at least shed your curse-stained clothes before you become one with the bed.

Your sleep is blissfully empty.

And it ends far too soon.

A loud series of knocks forces you from your slumber. You groan and pull the pillow over your head as if it’ll make the sound stop, but it doesn’t. After a few minutes of constant, incessant banging, you finally give up and crawl out of bed.

There’s only one person you know who would relentlessly pound someone’s door and when you throw your door open you find him— Satoru Gojo on the other side. He’s dressed casually, comfortably in sweats and a hoodie, for a day off, sporting tinted glasses instead of that blindfold he likes so much.

“What?” you demand.

Gojo peers at you over the top of his glasses, lips twitching as if he’s trying not to smile. “You need a minute?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

The smile finally makes its way onto his face and you can’t help but feel annoyed. Gojo points at you with a long, slender finger and says. “Matching set, huh?”

It’s then that you realize that you are only wearing your underwear.

Embarrassment surges through your body. You had forgotten that you hadn’t bothered changing into any sort of sleepwear— you’d only taken off your dirty clothes. Mortified, you slam the door in Gojo’s face.

If thoughts could kill, one of you would be dead on the floor right now; you haven’t quite decided who yet.

You shuffle around your room and throw on the first set of comfortable clothes you can find. Just as you’re fitting your head through the sweatshirt you hear him knock again.

“I’m still out here!” he hollers.

“Get lost!” you snap.

“But I brought food!” he whines. “I brought steamed buns!”

His words make you pause. When was the last time you ate? Yesterday morning? You don’t feel particularly hungry, but that could be because you just woke up.

“They’re getting cold!”

You weigh your options. Accepting food from Gojo is far from the worst thing in the world. It also saves you the effort of going to find something; it’s your day off, and the less you have to move the better.

With a heavy sigh, you finish dressing before opening the door again. The second Gojo comes into view, he beams at you and holds up a plastic bag from FamilyMart. You reach for it, but he raises it up, keeping it out of your grasp.

“Now, now,” he tuts as if he is reprimanding an overeager child. “I was thinking we could share. There’s way too many for one person, don’t you think?”

You don’t know how many steamed buns are in there, but you’ve seen Gojo eat: you know he could polish off that whole bag. Honestly, you probably could too. “Wanna bet?”

Gojo grins. “Sure. If you can’t finish them all then you have to spend the entire day with me.”

Not the way you’d want to spend your day off. “And if I can?”

“Then you get to have all the steamed buns I bought!” he says cheerfully. “Awesome prize, right?”

You scowl. “No, that's a shit prize and you know it.”

“Okay then, what kind of prize would you prefer?” There’s something ominous about the way Gojo’s looking at you right now; he’s smiling but you feel almost as if you’re looking at some sort of feral predator. Letting you choose your own prize sounds like some sort of trap and you wouldn't put it past him to twist whatever you choose to suit his own agenda.

“...can I think about it while I eat?” you ask.

“Sure.” Gojo shoots you a knowing smile, fully aware of the fact that you're just trying to buy time to figure out how to get out of whatever he's scheming. He hands you the bag of steamed buns and pushes past you into your room, settling himself against the wall opposite your bed.

You peer into the shopping bag and even though he said he’d brought steamed buns there’s other stuff in the bag. Some other miscellaneous snacks, candy and a few bottles of water and Gojo’s favorite brand of cola. A little excessive, but then again, everything about Gojo is excessive. You fish out the paper bag holding your food and hand the rest to Gojo before plopping back onto your bed. Knowing who bought them, you expect to find only red bean buns and custard buns in the paper bag; after all, his sweet tooth knows no bounds. But, to your surprise, there’s actually a bit of variety. You recognize the smooth tops of what are either red bean buns or custard buns, but also the crimped tops of what are likely pork buns as well as…

“Pizza buns…?” you mutter quietly, fishing one from the bag. Similar to the pork buns, they have a crimped top, but instead of a pale off white of a regular pork bun, the bread is a pale orange color.

Gojo chuckles and you look up at him. There's a cocky grin plastered to his face. “They are your favorite, aren't they?”

You gawk at him, heartbeat stuttering a little in your chest. He’s right; they are your favorite, but you’ve only ever mentioned it a handful of times.

It’s… surprising that he even remembered.

Gojo always manages to catch you off-guard when he remembers the little things like this. It really shouldn’t surprise you; he’s the same way with his students, and yet…

Your heart skips yet another set of beats.

“Did you finally fall in love with me?” he asks, sounding infinitely amused.

His question reminds you that, surprisingly thoughtful or not, Satoru Gojo still remains to be the most annoying man in existence. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, if you say so…” His tone makes it clear that he doesn't believe you and you know better than to try and convince him otherwise; Gojo can be as delusional as he wants. “Better eat up before they get all sad and cold!”

“Yeah, yeah…” You grumble. “Thanks again.”

You shove the pizza bun in your mouth. It's the perfect temperature: hot but not enough to scald your tongue. You finish it in a few bites and grab another. From the looks of it, there's probably a little over a dozen steamed buns in the bag. You think that's doable as you polish off your second bun (a juicy pork bun).

As you start to eat the third (a cheese curry bun), you notice Gojo staring at you over the top of his glasses. His eyes, unnaturally bright and blue as always bore into you; and something about his gaze is almost expectant, waiting— for what you don’t really know. It’s kind of weird, honestly, you would have expected him to play with his phone or whatever, not just… watch you eat. Without averting your gaze, you slowly take a bite into the steamed bun.

Gojo continues to watch you.

Creepy.

You keep staring back at him as you finish the third bun and you don’t break eye contact as you reach in for another one. Gojo continues to watch you, his expression focused. You’re starting to get a little unnerved now. It doesn’t even seem like he’s blinking. You shift a little to the left and his eyes follow the movement.

Halfway through the fourth bun (a custard bun), you decide to finally say something. “Do you have to stare?”

Gojo snickers, mischievous. That never means anything good. “Yeah? I mean, I have to make sure you eat them all, don’t I?”

“...do you think I’m going to shove them in my shirt and hide them or something?”

For a split second, his expression falters, the briefest look of shock crossing his features before he snorts. “You’re welcome to try, but it’s an automatic loss if you do!”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. No way that you’re going to waste perfectly good steamed buns. That just means you’ll have to ignore Gojo’s incessant starting.

Which turns out to be easier said than done.

After your fifth bun, you’re starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Almost like you’re an animal in a zoo. Not only that, but you’ve noticed that Gojo’s been slowly moving closer. He started over against the wall, but now he’s practically at your feet, staring up at you. HIs pupils are blown wide and it’s almost like he’s staring into your soul.

You stop eating.

You wait for Gojo to say something, some smartass remark or tease you about being full or something.

He says nothing.

Gojo only continues to stare at you, silent as his eyes look impossibly bigger. It doesn’t just look like he’s begging for one of the steamed buns, but for something else. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as you try to figure out what it could possibly be. With each second, the thumping grows louder and louder and Gojo seems to be moving closer and closer despite being still firmly planted to the ground.

Is it you that’s inching toward him now?

The realization startles you. Why would you even—? Panicked, you reach into the bag and pull out a bun at random and shove it in Gojo’s face. He makes a surprised sound but it’s muffled by the bun.

“Just take one already!” you exclaim, pressing it to his mouth as hard as you can without smashing it to pieces. It occurs to you that he might gloat about you feeding him by hand but you’ll deal with that later. You need to get him to stop looking at you like that now.

He laughs, triumphant as he removes the bun from your grasp and takes a big, big bite out of it. “Looks like I win. As usual.”

You merely grumble, watching as he polishes off the steamed bun in no time flat. He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers and you hand him another. It’s fine. Just because you can finish all these steamed buns doesn’t mean that you should.

As for having to spend the entire day with Gojo… You try to look on the bright side and tell yourself that there are worse fates out there. After all, you could be working.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Gojo asks mid-bite.

“I don’t really wanna do much of anything,” you grouse. You suppose it’s nice of Gojo to ask, when you know the reality is that you’ll be at the mercy of his whims for the rest of the day. Mentally, you brace yourself to be dragged around Tokyo, shopping or whatever it is he likes to do on his time off.

Gojo chuckles softly and the sound of it makes your stomach drop. You don’t like it. Something about it is dangerous. “Okay, let’s just stay here then, play a video game or something.”

You can’t help but stare at him. Then you think of the snacks and drinks he brought along and the fact that he’s dressed more for lounging than going out. You wouldn’t put it past Gojo to intend to occupy your entire day, but could it be that he planned to just hang out in your room the entire time? Playing video games or watching movies because he figured you wouldn’t have the energy to go anywhere.

No.

There’s no way that the most selfish and annoying man you know is that considerate.

Gojo tilts his head to the side and offers you a gentle smile, eyes glimmering behind his glasses. You swallow thickly, nervously, ignoring the odd feeling in your chest. There’s just no way.

No way at all.

after many hours of playing video games with gojo you muster the energy to tell him you want to go out to eat. he pays. it's not a date (it's so totally a date).

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #infinite loop!verse

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absolutebl · 4 months

Text

This Week in BL - The unexpected rise of cooking crush & seme bjs

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Jan 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 9 of 12 - I love this show so damn much. This may be my KinnPorsche. It’s just so endlessly entertaining in a perfectly unhinged way. I love that they looped Tharn’s dad back into the murder investigations.

You know kinksters have invented necklaces that can’t come off… right? Just saying.

Meanwhile, would it still be BL if our seme didn’t wake up from drowning and instantly go chase snake?

No. No it would not.

Remember the one hard and fast rule of BL? When a seme gives a BJ it’s penance. Phaya is apologizing to Tharn for leaving him behind.

Heh. Hard and fast. I kill me.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 14 - How is this absurd creature managing to rise in the ranks? Pavel turned in some stellar grief and ALANJEFF have my whole heart. I make Ikea puns in the... Trash watch happening here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 7 of 12 - The make-out montage was absolutely charming and very much American rom com style - interesting (and rare) to see in a BL (not to mention from OffGun. How far we have come since Puppy Honey?)

Meanwhile, another wonderful grandma in a BL!

Next week we do an actual harken back to Puppy Honey, so obviously I’m now enjoying this whole show way more than before. I think it helped that I watched it earlier in the week, when it wasn’t competing with any other BLs.

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - Not gonna lie, I knew from you all that this was gonna be a rough ep. But I very clearly remember the penultimate Bad Buddy ep so I now have slightly more trust than others in GMMTV on this matter.

That said, this was a crap episode.

You can’t set Mork’s truth and character motivation reveal up like that and then have his lover choose to dismiss him in a way that diminishes not just both character's growth AND all of Mork's actions towards Day, but also our faith in every other character. It was a shitty narrative thing to do to us, and it was a shitty thing to do to Mork. And that doesn’t even take into account the forgiveness allotted by the story to Day’s unrepentant excuse for a mother. The doom should have been handled differently. The mom shoudl have leaned in even more evil and actively lied to split them apart.

I don't know if they can redeem this misstep in the final episode. But I'm interested to see them try. That said, this plot seem to be true to the book.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - A major trigger has landed. But also it’s clear who’s fault that incident was... and it’s not Him’s. So Blue's so-called-friend really is unhinged. This episode was a little bit more engaging than last week, but it’s only because stuff actually happened. I’m still not sure I enjoyed it.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 12fin - Despite the fact that I’ve been annoyed by the show the last couple of episodes, I’m still sad for it to end. It was a good reveal and First had the right response. Also a very sports way to end it. Sprite is a v clingy bf.

In brief?

A messy very Thai pulp sports romance that actually managed to involve sports in an identical twins trading-places plot. Basically Not Me meets HIStory 2 Crossing the Line (although vastly inferior to either) with an endearing main character and a good lead pair (poor things), both soapy and earnest without too much camp. It tried so hard but the plot, side couples, and extraneous characters let us down. Passable if not great. 7/10

Time the series (Thai Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - Eh. Whatever.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 22 of 24 - skipped this installment

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - Funny how quickly he retracted that confession and everyone called him out for doing it too soon (including me from a narrative beats perspective). It was a cute screw up - I see what your meta-arse is doing there, Japan. Also our Tokyo-boy’s serious reserved earnestness is extra adorable in the surrounded by Osaka enthusiasm context. His accidental flirting is that much more heart wrenching for our poor baby seme. And they ended this ep with honorific negotiations!! Be still my heart. I’m really adoring this show.

Your hyung romance super fan is back in the game!

Meanwhile the Osaka accent is beyond adorable.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - Japan what are you doing? I do love the not-sorta-ex from the past.

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 10fin - I loved all the young people in the hawker center supporting the campaign against the terrible mother. They make a good domestically sappy couple. But that is Taiwan's specialty.

In brief?

A sweet if aimless story about a writer and a chef finding love via noodles, fake dating, and family challenges. If it had a tighter script and a shorter run, more like a KBL this might’ve been quite special. But it didn’t and it lost me too many times. 6/10

I don’t like to be disappointed by Taiwan.

It's done: I Need to Catch up

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam so I assume it's on YouTube. I never even noticed. Anyone?

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - Is TRUST Entertainment bringing us the first ever Burmeses BL? I don't know if it's really the first, but @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch through.

It's Airing But...

[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

Beside You (Thai YouTube) - a 3 sp short that's supposed to have started but I can't find it.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Ends next week. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?

In Case You Missed it

All my year-end round ups:

TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023

Top 10 BL Secondary Pairs of 2023

2023 BLs Best Trope Execution Awards! TOP 10

All the BLs Announced for 2023 that didn't happen

BL 2023's Best:

Back Hugs Thailand & Elsewhere

Cute Bits of Domesticity

Boys Feeding Boys

BOOP!

Best Cuddles

Heads in Laps

Touching Head Touches

Thailand Put His Head on Your Shoulder

Put Your Head on My Shoulder (not Thailand)

BEST KISSES (not Thailand)

BEST KISSES FROM THAILAND

Next Week Looks Like This

1/23 Happy Ending is a new high school set Strongberry 20 min short staring the actor who played Milk on Choco Milk Shake, so... YES PLEASE. I'm not sure where it will air but we all have our fingers crossed for Gaga or YT. Or both.

1/24 Love For Love's Sake (Korea Gaga & iQIYI)- based on the Manhwa ‘Love Supremacy Zone’ by Hwacha. A young man is dropped into a game based off a novel he loves. His mission is to make another player, YeoWoon happy. But then the game starts unfolding completely different from the novel.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Viva la BL grandma superiority! (Cooking Crush)

Cooking Crush casually givign us some lovely lesbians (as indeed did The Sign). GL makes for a lovely acessory BL, carry on.

Now GMMTV, give us the REVERSE.

I love this dork SO MUCH. (Pit Babe)

I love that Cherry Magic is doing this scene over. One of my favs from the original.

Yai is BEST BOY. MVP and most likely the winner for 2024's Namgoong award.

(Last week)

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joels-shitty-puns · 8 months

Text

The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way.

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message.

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do?

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send.

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible.

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself.

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love.

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??!

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks.

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up.

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too.

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal fic #A! wrote a fic #rpf #pedro pascal rpf #key to your heart

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eeunoia · 7 months

Text

ENHYPEN Series

sinag — psh.

chapter one

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

pairings: park sunghoon x oc

word count: 3k

warnings: a contains violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.

note: i didn’t proof read this lol, anywayy ask are open for your messages. thank you so much for reading.

here ‹ prelude | chapter two › here

Tonight is the night before your flight for the said business trip your boss has told you. Everything was set already. Accomodation for two weeks, your passport and the things you packed for the whole thing is all prepared.The only thing that you forgot was to tell your boyfriend about it. It was kind of your fault since you’ve kept missing the chance of breaking the news to him. He’s also pretty busy lately, always out with either his friends or officemates.

You snapped back to reality when you heard the beeping sound of your apartment door. Worried, but also excited to see your boyfriend again after two days, you jumped off from your seat to come greet him. The two of you decided you’ll have dinner together tonight to make up with days you didn’t spend time with one another.

You imagined the two of you enjoying your dinner, talking about the past days of your lives that you missed, catching up with one another and just moments you will share intimately as a couple. But all of that came crumbling down your feet when you saw him entering drunk.

��Are you drunk?” your words falls from your lips even before your mind can process it.

He smiles and it was enough to tell that he’s so not himself right now. Even if he can walk by his own, his mind is surely intoxicated by alcohol. He reeks off alcohol that made you furrow your brows that it upsets you.

“I cannot believe that you are drunk right now! We said we will have dinner tonight.” you didn’t even bother helping him take his shoes off. You crossed your arm and stare at him with disappointed look.

“I’m not...” he stalls with his words. “...drunk.” he top it off with a hiccup. You rolled your eyes and walked towards the dining table where all the cooked food were neatly placed.

“Wait, babe. Don’t be mad.” he even tries to come after you, shaking his head a bit like it will solve everything.

“I’m sorry,” he starts. “It was a rough week in the office and everyone wants to go out for a few drinks. I couldn’t decline because I don’t want to seem like I’m killing the fun and not being there for them.” he continued to blabber and almost all of his words were familiar. His reasons seams like it has been repeated. It was honestly tiring even for you.

“Please don’t be mad. I made it. I’m here already.” he smiles and walks over to you. He leans in and you tried not to move away to make him upset. The strong smell of alcohol clearly insinuates that he didn’t have just a few drinks, but you didn’t comment on that. Instead you let him place a chaste kiss over your cheeks once.

“Okay. Take a sit so we can eat. I’ll serve you a soup to help you shake off the alcohol in you.” he seems fine with it, the smile on his face remained as he walks over to his sit.

You stood up and started taking care of your boyfriend while thinking of a way you can open up the thing about your trip. Its tomorrow already and even if you two have days you don’t meet each other, your boyfriend hates it whenever you go far from him. It was seriously a redflag, but since you aren’t really into going out of the country anymore, it was a non-argument matter. You just leave it as it is for the sake of the relationship.

“Here,” you placed it in front of him as you told him to dig up.

You start to slowly eat too, not really enjoying it. A part of you are still upset for him showing up drunk, another part are nervous. A very big chance of him getting upset about it was already expected by you, but he cannot do anything about it.

“Oh, right..” your eyes looks up to him when he suddenly talked after taking a sip from his soup.

You looked at him with anticipation.

“I’m quitting my job.” he dropped it like he was just announcing you that he will get a haircut.

Your hold to your utensils loosen as you try to process what he just said. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m quitting my job. I submit my resignation letter today.” and then he casually went back to his soup.

You have no words. You don’t know what to say or if you have the energy to say something. He is really not the type to exert effort into something. Countless times he has done this already. Quitting his job out of nowhere, depending on you.

“Why? I thought you’re doing great.”

He swallows first and shrugs his shoulder, unbothered. “I can’t stand my boss. He’s too cocky and he always just see wrong in everything I do. It’s like he just targets me without any sense. You will not understand!” he even waves his hand like as an act of dismissing the topic.

“Then how are you suppose to pay for your rent? Your bills and food?”

His head lifts up and he mindlessly roams his eyes around your apartment.

“I can crash here for the mean time.” he says, “You wouldn’t let your boyfriend sleep on the streets, right? Come on, Ae.” he gave you this pitiful look on his face.

“You can’t be serious, Luke.” when you said those words, you saw how his expression changed.

He looked utterly pissed with the way you said those words to him.

“Don’t act all might just because you are enjoying your work! It won’t be too long, just until I find another work.”

You shut your eyes for a while and slowly lets go of your utensils then brush some of your hair away from your face. Here you thought you will have some time you can enjoy and let out your stress about work and your parents, only to be slapped with another set of problems.

“Okay.” you says since its not like he gave you other choice. He’s your boyfriend and you know you don’t have the will to let him leave in the streets.

“Thank you, babe. I promise I will make it up to you!” he sounded so giddy after securing a spot on your apartment.

“Can you drive me tomorrow?” your eyes dropped to your food, avoiding his gaze because you can feel yourself feeling worried about how he will react.

“Sure! To where?”

“The airport.” you gulped and raised your head to look at him. His brows furrowed out of confusion then he tilts his head.

“To the airport? Why?” he already have an idea in his mind, he’s not that dumb. But he wanted to hear it from you because he can’t believe it. He doesn’t even want to believe. You hate going out of the country.

“My boss is sending me there for a business trip and seminar—” the clash of his spoon to his bowl interrupted you.

“Your boss?” he scoffed. “If I know he’s just using that as an excuse to spend time with you. Is that how you get promotions?” his accusation made your stomach twist. The words coming out from his mouth just don’t make sense to you. He is being unreasonable and you are feeling so upset about it.

“Don’t even go there! You know how hard I work for this job!” your voice raised that made him annoyed. It shouldn’t be like this, but because of all the things going on lately you’re mentally can’t deal with it in a calm way.

He stood up, smashing the table. “Yeah, right.” and with that he grabs his things before heading towards the door of your apartment.

“Go drive yourself tomorrow.” he sarcastically uttered before he slammed it close behind his back.

You rest your head on the back of your hand while feeling so stressed. The night was ruined and you have no idea where did it take turn. It was suppose to be a great dinner.

After letting yourself space out and process things up, you decided to be the more mature in the relationship.

“Hey, Luke. Uhm,” you sighs and gently massaged your temple while you leave a message in his voice mails. “I’m sorry if I just told you about the trip. I promise that I will be alone there and my boss will be here so there’s nothing to worry about, babe. I know you’re probably stressed up about work too, I shouldn’t have shouted. Call me, love you.”

You stared at your phone for a couple of minutes. The picture of you and your boyfriend looked cute, but for some reasons you can’t feel anything special from it. Luke has been your boyfriend for a year and its fun with him. He’s goofy and caring. He might lack at some point, but you love him. And he loves you. It’s just normal for couples to argue from time to time.

You almost didn’t get any sleep because of it. The next morning, you did drove yourself to the airport after not receiving and calls nor messages from Luke. Maybe he’s really upset and mad about it. While waiting for your flight, you fidget with your phone hoping he will call or anything. Your heart feels a little heavy thinking that you will be away from him for tqo weeks and you had a fight before leaving.

When you are asked to board the plane already, your feet felt heavy every step you take. Before handing your ticket to a staff, your head craned to look over your shoulder. No familiar sight of your boyfriend anywhere. Right there you are slightly wishing for a movie like scene where the main lead guy will come running for the girl main lead then they will hug and kiss. None of that happened.

While sitting on your seat, a small idea occupies your mind unknowingly.

‘Is he not the main lead on your story? Is Luke not the one for you?’

A week later.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as he stepped on the accelerator of his car. His mind blank and his grip on the steering wheel was tight, continuously cursing people silently.

His eyes darted at his phone when he saw his friend’s caller id flashing.

“Hello.” he lazily answered.

“Where you are right now, Hoon?” it was Jake.

“On my way.” he responded before swiftly checking his side mirrors if there’s any vehicle behind. Once he’s clear, he steps on speed again to pass the cars in front of him.

He clicks something to his phone, “Ni-ki, update on Jungwon’s location.”

“Sending it to you as we speak, hyung.” the younger one says from the other line.

He didn’t replied and so Ni-ki talked. “Hyung are you using your sports car again? Make sure to park a few blocks away from the warehouse! Your car is so loud I can hear it from the other street.” he complains.

Sunghoon hears chuckles from the call, probably from their other friends that are connected right now and listening. He smirks and click his tongue to the side of his cheeks.

“I can be as loud as I can if I want because I will make sure none of them will walk out alive from that fucking warehouse.”

“Yeah yeah, just get here faster hyung.” Ni-ki teased him.

“I can’t believe they think they can get rid of Jungwon hyung this easily? We are given brains for a reason.” Ni-ki blabbers that made his other hyung chuckle.

Sunghoon smirks as he made a turn towards a more secluded part of the town. Soon no facilities or houses are seen, this time its more trees and fewer street lights. Its surely a perfect spot to take someone and torture them without getting interrupted by anyone.

“I don’t know, Ni-ki. I feel like you will do the same if it were for your girl.” Sunghoon says taunting him.

Jake chuckles lightly and shakes his head while listening to the two. It was a normal thing already.

“Whatever hyung! At least I don’t search for someone you aren’t sure if she truly exists.” that was a button you shouldn’t push with Sunghoon.

Even before he can say something, Sunoo went in between.

“Enough bickering both of you. Geez, you act like kids all the time. We’re in the middle of something serious here.” they can almost see him rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Sunoo.” Jake grins.

“Where are you, Sun?” Sunghoon says as he slows down his car after noticing that he’s getting closer to the pinned location Ni-ki sent him.

“I’m here already, hyung. Hurry up.”

“Almost there.” he stops his car and went to the back of it. He opens the back to get his gun. One big gun, sniper use. Then one small gun that have a silencer, incase he needed something more convenient.

“Finally,” Ni-ki whispers. “I thought you forgot how map works and you got lost.”

Sunghoon raised his fist and act like he will hit Ni-ki, but the younger one already pulled Jake to shield him. It was funny because he was taller from the latter and so Sunghoon can still clearly hit him.

“You two stop it. Jay and Heeseung already sneaks inside. Sunghoon hyung you need to go and find your spot.” Sunoo.

He nods and approached Ni-ki to give him a slight pinch to his ears when he saw someone walking out from the warehouse.

“Don’t move, Riki,” he instructs and quickly rest his hand holding the gun at Ni-ki’s shoulder.

One click to his gun and he didn’t miss. The man fell to the ground lifeless without any of his alliance knowing.

“Nice shot.” Jake compliments.

“Thanks.” and he starts moving inside to go at a higher place for better view of the warehouse.

Thankfully, he find a ladder that leads towards an upper part of it. The moment he carefully made his way to go look down to what’s happening, he saw Sangwon beating up Jungwon. Not just him, he’s surrounded by a lot of guys.

“Do you have eyes on the target?” Jake talks on their intercom.

“Target lock.” he whispers and points the gun to Sangwon.

“Should I kill him on the spot?”

“No. At least give that honor to the love birds.” Ni-ki stated and he can hear grunts from him. Seems like he’s taking care of the people outside.

“Okay. Give me a signal, Jake.”

He waits patiently even though his hand were already itching to pull the trigger and send a bullet straight to his head. The sight of his friend being beaten up surely isn’t pleasant to watch to.

“Now.”

After hearing that, Sunghoon effortlessly sniped Sangwon and some of the guys around Jungwon. The baffled look over Shaun and Mr. Cha’s face made them look even more stupid for Hoon. It didn’t made him feel any better or made his mood lighter. If anything, he’s starting to feel bored and want to end them all at once.

When he saw Jay and his Heeseung hyung getting in the scene, he leans over a metal railing then silently watch. He’s so sure his presence are still unknown by the masterminds, but he doesn’t care. This is usually what Sunghoon enjoys. He love it whenever his target are unaware of the danger that awaits them.

In the mafia world, there’s also a food chain. The most influential and powerful mafias are at the top of it or what they call predators, while the ones beneath them are like their preys. And Sunghoon’s a predator. He’s definitely and no doubt a predator, hunting for its prey. He loves it. He loves being at the top of the food chain.

“Why don’t you get down here and join us, Hoon?” Jake asks.

“I can perfectly see you guys from up here.” he says before letting out a sigh.

“Besides, I’m very pissed right now so if I go down there, I might take the spotlight an kill them on the spot. They ruined my vacation.” he added.

Jake chuckles, clearly know what he’s referring to. He was about to leave the country for his vacation, in other term to go search for this girl. It was already known around their friend group.

“Hyung, for a correction, you aren’t on a vacation. You’re on a hunt.” Ni-ki teased.

“Fuck you Nishimura. Who even agreed to take you here?”

“Heeseung hyung did! And besides, I was the one who searched for Sangwon’s whereabouts.”

“I sniped him down.” Sunghoon says like as if challenging the younger one.

It would’ve been yet another unstoppable bickering, but thankfully Sunoo manages to stop them. They all took care of the situation and Sunghoon silently withdraws from the scene.

“Boss.” he hold his phone near his ears while puffing smoke from his cigarette. He’s leaning over his car, trying to relax himself.

“Ready my plane, Icarus. We’re flying tonight.” he instructed his assistant before ending the call and tossing the cigarette to the floor.

He opens his car’s door and swiftly puts some of his stuff inside.

“Leaving already?” his head snaps to the side and saw his friend.

“Yeah. I have to go somewhere.”

Jake nods his head. “Jungwon’s beaten badly and got shot, but he will be fine.”

Sunghoon smirks, “He should be. He owes me one.” he says. They both chuckle and even without saying it, they knew this is something they will always do in a heart beat.

“I will go visit Jungwon, but I’ll take my leave for now. Just do the honor of informing our friends.” Sunghoon says and went closer to give Jake a dap.

“Oh don’t worry, dude. I’m sure they already know even if I don’t say it.” and he grins.

“Whatever.” and he went inside his car.

“Go find her.”

“I will.” he answers confidently and drove away from his friend, with a small hope inside his heart that this time, he will find you.

here ‹ prelude | chapter two › here

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@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @edensgardenn @simpforniki @classicroyalty @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @hiqhkey @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @moonlightisland @ayayiiie @aeyeree @bitchychildmiracle

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haroldthehuckleberry · 3 months

Text

Pregnant boy-toy part 2/3

cw: mpreg, sex, controlling language, speed pregnancy

we sat and spoke for a few hours about the baby but i couldnt take my mind off how fucking sexy he was, i dont know if its the hormones but his physique and just everything was sending me wild, luckily my mountain belly was hiding my rock-hard cock in my sweatpants. the same couldnt be said for him… his massive member was clearly solid in his tight jock strap, he moved on to the couch next to me and my cock and cunt only twitched for him more.

his massive hands rested on my belly that dwarfed the tanned, veined beauties on the end of his wrists, his right hand slipped my tight vest up over my mountain-belly letting every inch of its tight skin breathe meanwhile his left hand glided up and down my thigh as my cock twitched and my cunt pulsed for him. suddenly i looked at myself and realised how much id changed, normally no man could drive me crazy enough to want him this much but its true- i needed him. i needed to please him. a whimper of a moan slipped out my lips followed by his gruff voice saying “good boy” to sooth me, those goddamn words that pissed me off to no-end only months ago are now ruling me those two words nearly made me cum on the spot when he say this though he wasn’t impressed

“tut tut, no slut of mine cums before i allow it” he bellowed as he pinched my sensitive swollen nipple causing me to moan again and drizzle a little milk for the first time “s-s-sorry” i whimpered in hopes hed allow me to cum, “sorry *what*” he said assertively “sorry d-d-daddy” i mutter half ashamed at how far id fallen for this God-like man and half so turned on it was starting to hurt my cock, “what a good little slut” he grinned as he pulled me up by my back and escorted me upstairs…

————————————

i lost count of how many times he came on my stomach of mass proportion but i was still not allowed. and i loved it. to think only jours ago i would have scoffed and rolled my eyes over being used like a machine but this is what i needed this whole time, i needed this man to control me. i assumed after i was finally allowed to cum i would leave and later plan the babies up-bringing but my daddy had different plans…

after another few hours of not cuming daddy finally let me and it exploded all over my belly-base as my cunt twitched and throbbed while his cock was being pulled out, i felt his spawn and his cum sloshing around inside me, i was full. maximum capacity. i didnt think my belly could get bigger when i arrived but it clearly has, i cant even sit up and i know daddy will only punish me if i ask for help so instead i ask permission to fall asleep, he grants me it before he gets me to suck him off one last time, i must obey.

after a great night sleep i expected to wake up to a slightly deflated belly as i assumed the cum would have been absorbed or whatever but no… my belly was EVEN bigger again my skin was so tight it looked nearly see through i looked about 18 months pregnant!! “WHAT THE FUCK!!” i screamed “shut it slut!” daddy shouted back twisting my pecs that had also swollen more over night, this pain added to the sight and feel of my belly immediately made my cock and cunt stand at attention ready for anything daddy wants me to do “p-p-please explain daddy” i beg trying not to make it obvious im ready for him whenever he wants me, “ you see,” he growls “my cum isnt like any other, i can get you pregnant no matter how far along you already are, and my spawn tend to grow bigger than the average” he puts his hand assertively on my globe of a stomach “normally my sluts come to me only a few months in so i have more time to utilise their breed-able bodies but you where naughty, you came to me late. so for this, i must teach you a lesson”

authors note:

thank you so much for the love on part one! i hope you enjoy this part too i have a rough plan for maybe one more part so unless i get an amazing idea there will probably be one more part to this series!

#cw mpreg #mpreg #mpreg belly #mpreg kink #mpregnancy #pregnant man #mpreg roleplay #mpreg caption #mpreg story #male pregnancy

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ihavethedreamies · 3 months

Text

Hard to Swallow | Easy to Expert (3 v6)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Seo Changbin - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~3.7k

Felix/AFAB!Reader/Changbin

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Lingerie, Multiple Partners, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Changbin has a Big Cock (duh), Cockbulge (duh), Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It)

Disclaimer: I do have the whole cock-bulge thing in this. I understand this could be a bit offensive to some who are on the heavier side (I am in that group as well). Sorry if this doesn't align with your body type, this is just a work of fiction.

Author's Note: This series has seriously devolved into pure filth. I am writing these one after the other and the clear decline in purity is obvious, helps you know whose I wrote when. This one is second to last, and might actually be a little better than the one before it but…we'll see...

PS. I wrote the first A/N before I wrote Bang Chan's, and now that I have...this one is worse.

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. 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 site. Happy reading!

"So, (Y/N) has an idea-"

"Okay, I'm in." Changbin didn't even let Felix finish the sentence.

"You have no idea what I was going to say."

"If it involved (Y/N), I'm in. What is it…?" Changbin put his phone away, leaning in as he rested his elbows on the table. No one else was in the classroom yet, but Felix still quieted his voice.

"She wants a threesome-"

"Yes."

"I know. But she requested you specifically."

"Me?" Changbin giggled like a child, "she wants me?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'm going to send you an address. Go there and ask for the item code I will send too." The older guy pulled his phone back out and typed away on it. Felix furrowed his brow, a little concerned that Changbin already had something like this planned.

"Oh, don't worry. I've had this ready for the next girl I get but none of them would have fit. (Y/N) will though." He smirked and your boyfriend's phone buzzed. He opened the message and instead of saving it, he forwarded it to you. Felix had already given you his card so you could go buy a set of lingerie if Changbin agreed. He had planned on you getting a frilly pink set, but if Changbin had a request then so be it. He added after the forward that if whatever it was did not, please you, to go ahead with the initial set.

"Can’t fucking wait, tonight?" The man bounced in his seat, once again like a child. His mannerisms did not fit him, not with his build and bulk.

"I was thinking next week, but I can see if tonight works." Felix texted you the question as well.

The address was not too far from where you were meeting your friends for lunch so you would stop by on the way home. When you got there and requested the item, the clerk came around the counter to assist you. It was a lingerie store you had been to once before, but never got anything. It was a little higher than your price range and you made sure to remind Felix to get paid back from Changbin. The clerk measured you quickly just to get your rough numbers so she could pick a good size.

"Please wait here." She smiled, bowing slightly then went to get the item. The place was bigger than you thought from the store front, and you wondered how the hell Changbin found this place, let alone to knew what he wanted you to get. The worker came back and presented the set to you, already hanging in a bag, she would have to just zip it up. You balked at the set before you. You were expecting black leather or even latex. Maybe red or dark purple? Fishnets? No. The lingerie looked like it was supposed to be for a bride, but it was a pale blue instead of pure white. When the clerk rang the item up you almost choked on nothing, and reluctantly pulled Felix's card out of your bag. Why the hell was it half-a-million won? When you checked the register, the set was listed as Mulberry Silk Bridal Lingerie Set. Really Changbin? Trying not to seem so awkward after you paid, you bowed as you took the clothing bag from her and scampered out of the store. You still had it slung over your arm when you walked into the much more familiar adult store you and Felix frequented. The cashier didn't even acknowledge you as you headed straight to the section you needed. You were supposed to get a tail that looked like a unicorn's, braided fake hair of pink, blue, and purple. There was also a matching headband, but it didn't fit the elegance of the lingerie. Humming in thought, you ended up going with a tail plug that was made to look like a tiger's, white with black stripes. There were matching ears and you used Felix's card again, the grand total being about 30,000 won. A much more reasonable price.

"What the actual fuck Seo Changbin?" you muttered, going to stand in the full-length mirror. You had prepared yourself, accordingly, slipping the tail plug in before you put on the rest of the set. The panties weren't the same kind that Felix and you normally picked out. It was a thong, not crotchless, and you had to fenagle it to accommodate the plug. You literally got out your sewing kit, luckily having a spool of white thread at the bottom. Carefully you ripped the seams out and resewed the thong strap so you could slide the tail through. You hated ruining such an expensive piece of clothing but at least it was just the thong.

Looking in the mirror you huffed, but had to admit you looked good, like a snow tiger. The top was a corset that luckily laced in the front and had short ruffles of silk at the bottom. The corset didn't have an attached bra, it curved to rest under your breasts though, lifting them up. That was where the support was because the bra was barely that, only the edges were actually silk with some boning, but the rest of the material was sheer. The thong was made of silk as well and there was a garter belt included as well. You had clipped them to the sheer thigh-highs after you extremely carefully rolled them on. There were ruffled silk bracelets that you tied on each wrist. After seeing the ensemble, you knew your black choker would be a stark contrast, but it ended up working well with the white tiger set you had. Moving into different poses, you looked yourself over in the mirror. In the background you heard the keycode being pressed into your door and the two men shuffling in.

"Wait!" Felix called, sounding annoyed and the heavy footsteps immediately halted.

"Take your shoes off," your boyfriend scolded, and you giggled softly.

"What the hell did you make her get?" You heard your boyfriend coming down the hall and stepped back from the mirror to stand at the foot of your bed. Changbin didn't answer, but he got to see when he entered your room.

"Shit." Your boyfriend sighed. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. It was clearly a bridal set, at least it wasn't white though. You did look amazing however, and he loved that his black choker pulled out the stripes on your tail plug and your headband.

"Fuck me~" Changbin practically moaned coming in to the room as well. He desperately wanted to scoop you up, but he held back. He was getting the privilege of Felix letting him fuck his girlfriend, he would hold back.

"Rules?" You prompted Felix who came to stand beside you. He glanced at your back to see the rest of the set and made you spin slow so Changbin could see too.

"Yes~" The other man nearly hissed.

"Rule One!" You started.

"No kissing her on the lips." Felix's arm wrapped around your shoulders, his index fingers tracing your pout. You sucked the digit into your mouth playfully which made him smile.

"Two!" you said when your boyfriend took his finger back.

"You have to listen to me." Felix continued and Changbin nodded in acceptance.

"Three…"

"Only I get to take her ass." Your boyfriend finished the prompt and once again got a nod.

"Valid. Probably break her anyway." The older man acquiesced. You had a feeling about that, and you still had never seen his dick.

"Fourth! No cumming down her throat." Your boyfriend held his fingers up. He didn't get a nod from that one, his friend's face hardening a bit, but you continued.

"Finally! You don't need to use a condom, but you can't come inside." You finished.

"Why?" He looked at you, his gaze less playful than before, his tone sharper. Felix was worried about this.

"She likes it too much, so only I can. In her cunt and her throat." The man next to you hardened his tone as well and Changbin scoffed. He took his ball cap off, throwing it to the side, shaking his head and running his hand through his curly hair. You watched enthralled as he unzipped his sweatshirt and discarded it too. His black t-shirt was so tight it was like he had it painted on and you had to admit your mouth watered thinking of finally seeing him without it. He was proud of his physique but only really showed off his arms. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes playfully as you gaped at his friend and began to discard his own clothes.

"I will follow your rules…" Changbin started, undoing and removing his belt, he threw it too hard and it left a scratch on the wall. He smirked at your gaze, slowly pulling his shirt out of where he had it tucked in but didn't do anything more.

"But I want her to swallow my cum, and I want to breed her." He asserted, pulling the shirt off so roughly you heard some seams pop. Your whole body flinched when you finally got to see him, and you didn't hold in your whimper. He chuckled cockily and Felix licked his lips in thought. He knew you would LOVE it, and that is why he wanted to say no. On the other hand, just because Changbin would cum inside you, that didn't automatically mean he could make you fall over the edge too. You cast a glance at your boyfriend, trying not to plead with your gaze. But holy shit did you want that. Before Felix metaphorically broke your dam, you had never been one for anything kinky, but now…To be double sure you took the pill and was even considering getting a IUD just in case.

"She has a creampie kink, not breeding. You can cum inside, she's protected." Felix agreed to Changbin's terms but added a caveat.

"Rule one was no kissing her lips. I'll let you do what you want, but you cannot kiss her anywhere. You can't eat her out either." You looked between the two of them, waiting for the other man to answer. He didn't love those stipulations, but it would be worth it if he could fill you up.

"Fine." They shook hands and Felix gave you a positive hum and you scurried forward, hands running all over Changbin's now bare torso. He was delicious and you desperately wanted a taste. He just stood there, letting you do as you pleased, just watching as you fell to your knees. Your fingers hooked in the loops of his jeans, which were hugging his thighs perfectly, and he sighed as your hot little tongue licked up from under his belly button to as high as you could go kneeling.

"Shit (Y/N)~" He hummed, not even helping you as you undid his pants, having to tug to get the denim to unpeel from his legs. You whined, letting him get the pants off his ankles and they were shoved to where his shirts and belt lay. Felix watched amused as started to kiss Changbin's thighs, as thick as your head. He chuckled as you nibbled his inner thigh before kissing the impressive bulge held back by his boxers. He hardened further at the touch and licked over the fabric as well, your cunt already pulsing at the thought of him filling you. Giving him a coy look he smiled, "Go ahead, princess." So, you did. Slowly, like unwrapping an expensive gift, you pulled his tight briefs down and off, his cock bouncing in the air. You gaped and he smirked. He was only half hard but…You swallowed hard, wiggling your jaw back and forth, wondering if you could fit him or not. Not any longer than Felix, maybe even a bit shorter, he was THICK. Changbin just watched as your hand came shakily to encircle his cock, your fingers unable to touch. You mewled, then wrapped your other hand around him as well, pumping them as you licked around the head. His whole body seemed to quake with his groan. When he was fully hard you swallowed again. Glancing back at your boyfriend who was standing near the bed, mostly naked himself, he nodded. Changbin grinned at the round ears on your headband and the tail flowing out behind where you kneeled. However, seeing you in the pale blue silk he picked out was definitely the best.

"Go on, princess." He urged and you breathed hard through your nose, adjusting your pose, opening your mouth as wide as you could. It seemed he wasn't that thick, but your jaw did still protest some. You moaned when the taste of his precum hit your tongue and he groaned too. Leaving one hand at the base of him, the other went to lay on his hip, sliding up and over the v-line of his torso.

"So good~" He praised as you huffed through your nose, tongue swirling over just his tip still. He knew he could cum alone from that, but he knew you could do more. When the plug inside you buzzed on you whined, and Changbin saw Felix messing with his phone. You focused, trying to keep your lips over your teeth and took his fat cock deeper. When the head hit the back of your mouth, you did gag slightly, not accustomed to his girth. He tasted amazing and you were eagerly anticipating him painting your throat white. You swallowed a few times, trying to relax the muscles, but pull back some to take a deeper breath. After another measured breath, you swallowed him back in and descended further. He groaned dramatically as your throat fluttered around his dick, you were gagging slightly, tears springing to your eyes. Despite the struggle, you still wanted desperately for him to fit inside all the way at least once. Pulling back, sucking as you went, he sighed, watching intently as you took another deep breath before going back down. You whined as you managed to get him completely in, swallowing over and over trying not to gag too bad. You had no way to get air in, so you didn't even try, but your nostrils flared as the tip of your nose touched his pelvis.

"Fuck! (Y/N)~" How bad Changbin wanted to grab your head and pump his hips, but he didn't want to hurt you. When it was getting too hard to last without air, you pulled your head back just enough that you could suck in more oxygen through your nose. Felix watched, amazed that you fit his friend's huge cock in your mouth. Drops of drool and pre splattered on the floor in front of you as you bobbed your head, letting Changbin's cock bury completely every once and awhile when you tolerated. Felix knew his friend had the stamina of an ox, but he looked close to cumming already. Of course, his sweet (Y/N) sucked dick like no other.

"Ah, I'm close princess." Changbin huffed out and you braced yourself on the floor. Felix recognized your stance immediately.

"You can thrust but don't go too deep till you finish." Your boyfriend instructed the other man. He nodded, and his strong hands went to your head.

"Ready?" He asked and you hummed, teary eyes meeting his. He swore under his breath and did as he was allowed, starting to pummel your poor throat with his cock. More tears spilled from your eyes, the obscene sound caused by your drool and his precum echoed through your bedroom.

"Okay, one, two-" Changbin didn't get the next word out before he filled you full, cumming down your throat. Your eyes rolled back, cunt clenching and you lost count of how many times you had to swallow to get everything he gave you. You didn't cum, but Felix wasn't overly keen about how turned on you did get. Just when your vision started to swim, Changbin pulled out and you swallowed a few more times. Your throat hurt, sorer than when Felix did the same thing. Your boyfriend came to you with a bottle of water. You gulped some down, the cool liquid soothing your throat but also helping wash down the thick cum still in your mouth.

"Fuck." Changbin huffed simply.

"You okay, love?" Felix made sure you nodded, letting out a hoarse, "Yes." You glanced to the other man and your eyes widened. His cock hadn't softened at all and was still covered in a thick layer of fluids. He stroked over it with his hand, smiling at the slick.

"Hurry up, 'Lix. I need her cunt." Changbin stared at you, his gaze fiery. The playfulness and glee from before were gone, covered by molten lust and you shivered a bit. With what he just did to your mouth, you were worried about your pussy.

"Come here, love." Felix led you to stand and go over to the bed. Changbin followed and as he got on the bed, sitting at the top in the middle. He leaned back casually into the headboard, motioning you closer. You crawled on after him and straddled him, your legs spread much wider to accommodate his thick thighs than with Felix.

"Who do you want inside first?" your boyfriend asked and you pondered a second. You could handle the stretch of Felix's dick in your ass easier and get used to it faster than you probably could with Changbin in your cunt. Because of that you thought the latter should go first. The elder man's cock was still painted with your spit and his cum, your core dripping so much, you knew no lube would be needed. He positioned you so the tip of his cock rested at your entrance. He grunted at how hot and wet you were, losing patience.

"Go." Felix gave him the okay and Changbin's hands on your hips led you down. Your jaw fell open, your breath hitching as he stretched you open. Felix wasn't small by any means, but everything about Changbin was girthy. You shivered as he filled you, not even fully inside yet, a small bulge protruded from your lower stomach. Your body shivered, breathy moans leaving your lips as he bottomed out. Your cunt fluttered around him, more of your slick dripping down to smear over his groin.

"Shit, princess." He chuckled, holding you to him when you fell forward. He could feel the plug in your ass through the walls of your cunt, and he hadn't even noticed it was buzzing still. You whimpered softly when the vibrations ceased, Felix coming up behind you. He wrapped his hand through the tail of the plug and pulled softly, easing it out of you. You sighed, letting out a squeak as Felix dripped more of lube onto your ass, smearing more on his cock. He couldn't believe the sight of your tiny cunt stretched over Changbin, trying desperately to hold him in. He was a little miffed that you were so close already, but he knew he would throw you over the edge when he buried his own cock in your ass.

"Ready, love?" he asked, thumbs rubbing circles over your hips. You let out a small noise Changbin couldn't discern, but Felix heard you loud and clear.

"Breathe." He didn't even have to lead Changbin to rub your back, helping you relax. Your boyfriend started to ease into you, and you focused on the hand rubbing over your spine, breathing hard. The stretch set you on fire, your cunt fluttering. Felix bottomed out and you twitched aggressively, and when he grinded slightly into you, you fell apart. He smirked, grunting hard at the squeeze. Your ass was always tight anyways, let alone with his friend's cock splitting you in half. Your teeth had sunk into the muscle of Changbin's shoulder, and he hoped you left a mark.

"I'm not gonna move. Fuck her ass full of your cum then I'll blow her back out." The older man held you close, your orgasm dying but you still shivered. You had no more strength. Felix made sure you were okay with it and interpreted your little whimper as a positive. He nodded and started with short but deep thrusts and Changbin grinned at how your pussy clenched around him, even able to feel your boyfriend fucking into you.

"Fuck, you're milking me, love." Felix's deep voice rumbled through you, and you whined.

"'Lix~" You moaned, and he huffed with a grin. Two more thrusts and you squealed as he painted your ass white with his cum. You came again, Changbin recognizing the clenching of your core.

"Ah, fuck…" Felix groaned, pulling out of you.

"Off." Changbin motioned to him, holding you closer and he scrambled to the side, still out of breath. He barely got off the bed before Changbin rolled forward, you under him, immediately holding you in a mating press. You squeaked at the move, your knees at your ears as his hands gripped your thighs, so tight you knew it would leave bruises.

"Hold on, princess." He warned you and you scrambled your hands, digging your white painted nails into the sheets. The headboard banged against the wall as he took his first thrust and your head fell back, nearly falling over the edge of the bed. You back arched, silent screams wracking your lungs. The noises Changbin were making sounded more like a beast than a person's and your head lulled to find your boyfriend. He was watching with slightly wide eyes, his cock already starting to harden again.

"Okay, princess, I'm gonna breed you~" The man utterly destroying your poor pussy made two more hard thrusts, then he pumped more of his cum into your protected womb than he did down your throat. You shivered, but you didn't cum again, still looking at Felix. He smirked at your gaze, nodded and you let yourself fall over the edge as well. Changbin noticed and marveled at the level of control Felix had over your body. You lay there panting under him, nearly blacked out.

"Don't let her go, 'Lix. I'll snatch her up otherwise~”

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

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lurkingshan · 3 months

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Notes on Unknown (and Da Ge)

Oh man, I love this show. They are absolutely nailing the dynamics for this trope. The bond between Qian and Yuan is palpable, and the way they interact with each other and with Lili feels very lived in. You can feel the shared history between this little family in every scene.

We got our Sam Lin cameo in episode 3, and I was so happy to see him. We also got a couple additional flashbacks to Qian's history with his mother, so CW again for child abuse this week (you should probably just assume there will be at least mentions of it in every episode of this show). I also liked getting to see some more of Qian's work story with the H.O.T. team, and how Yuan is able to help him.

A note on the adaptation: I have been reading Da Ge this week, the original Priest novel the drama is adapted from, and I'm about halfway through. The major thing to note is that the show has significantly condensed the story. The novel is chronological and their childhoods are more than half the story, but the show has changed the structure to focus on the time when they are adults and Yuan begins to pursue Qian, streamlining their pasts into a two episode backstory. They did this primarily by cutting and combining side characters, blending arcs together, and simplifying a lot of the relationships. I think it's quite well done, and it has affirmed for me that the creators of this show know the story they want to tell. They are making use of the rich material in the novel with some smart changes to make it all work as a 12 episode series.

Notable changes so far from the source material:

They have softened Qian's characterization quite a bit. He's much harsher and more tsundere with his siblings in the novel. There are aspects of his roughness in the show, but it feels gentler.

The whole sequence in episode one where Yuan is kidnapped, Qian fights to get him back, and they have that touching brotherly love moment is original to the show. "If I lose you, I would have nothing left" is the kind of nakedly emotional sentiment you would never hear from the Qian in the novel (though we have enough hints about how he thinks to know he does in fact feel that way). The show adapted a plot that was much more cerebral (in Priest's usual fashion) to give us this more romantic take. They're using some shorthand here to make sure we understand how deep the love between them already runs, and I think it's very effective.

Qian's abuse at the hands of his mother, and the trauma it causes for him, is much more present in the show. I haven't gotten to the adult years yet in the novel, so maybe it will ramp up then, but he doesn't think about her nearly this much throughout his childhood.

In the novel Lili's paternal grandmother is part of the family unit, Qian and San Pang have another friend in the building named Ma Zi, and there are multiple gangster types that Qian gets involved with. The show cut grandma and Ma Zi entirely and blended all these gangsters into one, which I think was the right call.

#unknown the series #da ge #priest #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 5 months

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Light My Love - III - T.Nott

Series Summary - Follow Y/N as she navigated the wizarding world on her own, starting from her first year, all the way through to her seventh. As she falls in love and get her heart broken, how a certain friend is always there to mend her broken heart even though his is slowly getting broken in the process.

Chapter Summary - It's officially winter break, Theo stays at Hogwarts with Y/N and sticks by her side during a migraine attack. Theo and her godfather help take care of her, Theo spending the whole day with her and pulling an all-nighter together.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader(eventual)

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE ME A COMMENT ON THIS POST!

Series Warnings - Blood purity, dark wizards, Reader is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, pining, angst, reader will have some shitty boyfriends, Female Reader, use of Y/N

Chapter Warnings - Female Reader, use of Y/N, mentions of food and eating, rough parent-child relationship, migraine talk

Author's Note - Welcome to part 2 of this series! I will be creating a masterlist for this series after I post this so keep an eye out! I will link it when it's done!

Word Count - 1523

My full Masterlist

Series Masterlist

My requests are open!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

The Slytherin boys hadn’t mentioned the scar again until it was the day all of them were leaving to be with their families for the holidays. They had voted that Theo would be the one to ask since she trusted him the most out of the rest of them. That and he was also the only other one staying at Hogwarts for the holidays.

There had been a huge party in the Slytherin common room the night before to celebrate the end of exams and the start of the holidays. All of them had drank a little too much, waking up with hangovers the next morning. Y/N was sitting in the great hall, her head buried in her arms to block out the light. She had woken up with a massive migraine that made her feel like her eyeballs were about to pop out of her skull. It didn’t help that the boys were extra loud that morning, her head throbbing at every loud laugh or shout of her friends.

“Are you okay?” Pansy asked her quietly.

“Migraine,” She mumbled back, her stomach becoming queasy with the pain.

“Can you guys quiet down please? Y/N has a migraine,” Pansy instructed the boys who immediately lowered the volume of their voices.

“Wanna go back to bed, principessa? I’ll go with you,” Theo offered her gently, running his fingers up and down her back. She gently nodded, throwing a half assed wave to the rest of their friends as Theo guided her back to the common room.

Not even halfway there, her legs felt like they were going to give out, needing to stop for a moment and sit on the floor to rest her legs. “It’s a bad one, huh?”

“Really bad. My body feels so stiff and weak and my stomach is killing me,” She whined. He gave her another moment, helping to pull her up and back to guiding her to the common room. They were stopped, however, by Professor Snape.

“What is going on here? Leaving breakfast so soon?” Snape asked the pair, the volume of his voice causing her to wince in pain, burying her head into Theo’s shoulder.

“She has a bad migraine so I’m escorting her back to the common room, professor,” Theo explained to the man.

“Follow me, I have a potion that will help.”

“I don’t think she’ll be able to walk that far Professor. She had a hard time getting even here,” The boy added with concern. The hook-nosed professor solved that problem by picking the girl up and carrying her the whole way to his classroom and office. She had used the crook of the man’s neck to hide her eyes from not only the movement but the light.

There was a pair of students that had witnessed an act of kindness from the cold professor. Harry and Ron watched in awe as Snape carried the girl willingly so she wouldn’t have to walk the far distance. They had no idea that the man was capable of niceness, but then again, it was a member of his house and they believed that he tended to favor the Slytherin students more.

As Snape carried Y/N to his classroom and office, she felt safe, the comfort easing some of her pain. She had known Snape for most of her life, although nobody exactly knew that. Severus Snape was rather close with her father during their time together at Hogwarts, even becoming the girl’s godfather. He gently set her down on his desk chair once they entered his office, locating the potion he knew that would help her. He had been the one to create it after all, upon finding out that she had suffered from migraines at a young age.

He held the vial of potion to her lips, tilting it gently so it would go in her mouth and made sure that she drank it all. “What potion is that, professor?” Theo asked curiously.

“I created this years ago, it was made especially for migraine attacks,” Snape replied dryly, watching as the look of relief overtook his goddaughter’s face. “How are you feeling, darling? Better?”

“Much better, Uncle Sev. Thank you,” She smiled softly at her uncle, getting out of the chair to hug him tightly.

“Come to me next time you have a migraine. I have a full stock of the potion for you. Nott, you make sure if she has another, you either bring her right here or come get me. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, now off you go. Head back to the common room, I left you a little gift in your spot, darling,” Snape smiled at the girl, her eyes lighting up and she hugged the man once more, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you uncle Sev!” She squealed in delight.

“Happy early Christmas,” He chuckled as she pulled her friend out of the office.

She continued to pull him until they got to their spot in the common room. She was quick to notice a wrapped gift sitting by the window. She ripped the box open to reveal art supplies and a note.

My Darling Goddaughter,

I know your mother burned all of your art supplies so I figured you needed more. Happy Christmas

Love,

Uncle Sev

She squealed in excitement, tossing the note to Theo as she dug through to grab onto one of the many sketchbooks she was gifted and a sketching pencil. She had started sketching away as Theo read the note from Snape. He was shocked to see the fact that he was her godfather and he obviously had a deep care for the girl. Especially seeing as he had created a whole new potion just to help with her migraines.

He had put the note back into the box and just watched as she sketched away on the blank paper. He watched as her tongue poked its way out of her mouth as she concentrated, leaning closer to the book as she focused more on whatever it was she was drawing. Theo tried to lean over to get a look but she was quick to cover the book with her arms.

“Not yet! I left a book I think you’d like under the chess table so nobody would touch it. It’s charmed to stick to the bottom of the table,” She explained to the boy to try to give him something to keep him busy. So he did as she said, finding the book, taking his place next to her and began reading. She was right, he was deeply enjoying the book, completely submerged in it.

The two sat in their spot for hours, the day turned to night in what felt like a blink of an eye. As it approached midnight, they both realized that they were hungry and they hadn’t eaten all day. Deciding to sneak into the kitchens and ask the house elves for some food since they hadn’t had anything.

On their way out of the common room and heading down to the kitchens, they ran into Peeves, both cursing for not noticing the obnoxious poltergeist. “Students out of bed! Students are breaking the rules!” The poltergeist shouted.

“Shut up, Peeves!” Y/N yelled back at the ghost. They heard footsteps approaching them, trying to find somewhere to hide quickly but failing.

“What are you two doing out of bed? It’s nearly midnight, you’re supposed to be sleeping,” Snape lectured the pair.

“We haven’t eaten all day, Uncle Sev. We just wanted to get food from the kitchens really quick and go back to the common room, I swear,” Y/N defended her and Theo to her uncle.

“Why haven’t you eaten?”

“I was drawing with the new stuff you got me and Theo was reading. Please Uncle Sev, we just want to get food and go to bed.”

“I will take you to the kitchens and then back to the common room to avoid this again.”

That’s exactly what he did, the professor took the two down to the kitchens, let them get food and then led them back to the Slytherin common room. The students thanked Snape as they entered the common room, sitting down on one of the couches and eating the food they had gotten from the house elves. Almost immediately after eating their food they had fallen asleep on the couch together. Leaning against one another, the plates of food scattered around them on the tables.

Early in the morning, Snape had went into the Slytherin common room to make sure that the two students had found their way to bed. He was surprised to see that the pair had instead fallen asleep on the couch, Theo was layed down, Y/N sandwiched between the boy and the couch. Snape wasn’t very happy to see his precious goddaughter asleep with a boy but he was happy that she had found a great friend and someone who cared deeply about her. He covered the two of them with a blanket before leaving the common room with a small smile on his face.

Taglist:

@bigsimperika @melllinaa @chgrch @the-girl-who-simps-too-much @readingthingsonhere @ellen3101 @randomgurl2326

#harry potter #pro snape #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott #slytherin boys

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upat4amwiththemoon · 9 months

Text

Unwanted animal | part 5

Summary: Because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female!reader

Warnings: paranoia, hallucinations

Word count: 1866

a/n: how are you liking the series so far?

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @strangegardentaco @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Previous parts: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Rough movement of the bed wakes Y/N up. She opens her eyes slowly, the tiredness heaving her down. Once her eyes adjust to the darkness of Natasha’s room, where she basically lives now, she sees Natasha sitting on the bed. “What happened?” She mumbles out, setting her hand on Natasha’s shoulder that’s moving up and down in a quick pace.

“Nothing.” She whispers, her voice cracking.

With scrunched brows, Y/N pulls Natasha’s face out of the hiding, setting her palms on her wet cheeks. “Did you have a nightmare?” She rubs her cheeks with her thumbs, wiping the tears as they fall. Natasha nods, leaning against the touch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Natasha takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes closed. It helps her talk about things she usually hides from others, but she doesn’t want to hide anything from Y/N. “I was in the Red Room. Madam B was yelling at one of the girls, but I couldn’t see who. I don’t know what happened, she was just careless, I think. Then Madam B turned to me, and-“ she squeezes her eyes shut tighter, as if it’d make her forget about the dream, “and then she told me to kill her. I finally saw who she was yelling at.” Her glistening eyes open to look Y/N straight in the eyes. “It was you.” The sentence comes out so quiet. Her breathing is shaky and her whole body is tense. “I had to kill you. It felt so real.”

Y/N pulls Natasha into an embrace, pushing her face into her neck so she wouldn’t see the look on her face. Her hand is going up and down on her neck while Natasha starts fully sobbing. “It wasn’t real. You didn’t kill me. I’m right here with you.” She whispers into her ear. “It was just a dream. You would never kill me.”

“It wasn’t real.” Natasha whispers once her crying stops. She sniffles and pulls away from Y/N, giving her a small kiss. “Thank you.”

Y/N smiles, “come on, lets get back to sleep.”

They lie back down, both on their backs. Neither of them is tired anymore, so they just stare at the roof. “Have you ever wondered what kind of person you’d be without the Red Room?” Natasha whispers. The Red Room is still in her mind.

“Not really,” she mumbles, “I never thought a life without the Red Room would be possible.”

“I have.” Y/N turns to face Natasha, who keeps her eyes on the roof. “I think I’d be a better person. I wouldn’t have so much red on my ledger.”

“You don’t know that.” She whispers. “You could be even worse.”

Natasha hums. She doesn’t really believe that. She knows she could be worse, but that’d only happen if she didn’t decide to leave the Red Room and continuously work to be a better person. But, she doesn’t say that.

“I don’t think I’d want to live a life where the Red Room didn’t happen.”

This makes Natasha look at her with scrunched brows. “Why not?”

Y/N shrugs, “I wouldn’t be here then, would I?”

“I guess so.” She pulls her to her chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

And with that, they close their eyes and fall back asleep.

Natasha and Y/N are walking side by side, both of their guns drawn. The team found another HYDRA base, but so far, this one seems to be abandoned as well. “Why do they seem to be one step ahead of us every single time.” Natasha mumbles to the ear piece.

“All of these have looked like they’ve been abandoned for years, except the-“ Steve pauses, “first one.” The one where they found Y/N. “Maybe they found a better way to hide from us.”

“They could start getting worse at hiding any time soon.” Tony comments.

Y/N scoffs with a grin as she steps into a room. It’s empty. There’s no furniture, just four vents in every corner of the room, still, she looks around, in case there’s something hidden. A sudden loud bang makes her flinch and point her gun towards the door, that’s now closed.

She frowns, walking over to it. She tries to push it with all her strength, but it doesn’t budge, Natasha is on the other side of the door, trying to pull it open. There’s a small round window where they can see each other’s faces, Natasha’s is full of worry.

A whirring sound fills the room. She looks behind her and sees gas starting to come in to the room through the vents. “Help! Open the door!” She starts banging on it, while Natasha desperately tries to find a way to open it. On the other side, she’s saying something, but Y/N can’t hear it. The room is filling up fast. As she breathes in, Y/N smells something strange but familiar, and she starts to get woozy. Her hand lands on the door, trying to keep herself up, but she ends up falling to her knees and passing out.

Y/N wakes up coughing. She goes to sit up, but something is holding her down. She opens her eyes. Natasha is sitting over her with her hand on her chest to stop her from raising. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

She looks around the room. The door is ajar, otherwise everything looks the same. “I’m okay.” The words come out slurry.

Natasha helps her sit up when it’s sure she won’t pass out again. Her hands are cradling Y/N’s face. “I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you.” A tear slides down her cheek. “I can’t lose, because I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

She gives her a small kiss before turning her head to the side to speak to the others, “she’s awake now, everything seems okay so far.”

While Natasha talks to them, Y/N stares at the door. She breathes quietly to hear better. Something is wrong.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Natasha helps Y/N up to her feet, but the she stops her from moving forward. “What’s up?”

Her eyes are still locked on the door. “We can’t go.” She mumbles.

“What, why?” Natasha glances at the door, but sees nothing wrong with it.

“Can’t you hear the scratching? There’s something at the door.” Her voice drops down to a whisper. Natasha doesn’t hear anything. She tries to move her forward, but Y/N won’t budge. “Stop! It can hear you. It’s trying to get out.” Her breathing is starting to get fast.

“Y/N, there’s nothing at the door, no one is out to get us.”

“Stop it!” She lands down back to her knees, both palms pressing tightly against her ears, it doesn’t help. The scratching grows louder and louder, occupying her whole mind. “Make it stop!”

Natasha is trying to speak to her, but she can’t hear anything going on outside her head. She’s screaming now. There’s a pained look on her face. Natasha doesn’t know what to do, so she goes to puck her up in bridal style so they could get out of the building, but Y/N pushes her hands away the minute she feels the touch.

As the pain starts to get unbearable, something sharp stings her in the neck, and her vision blacks out, once again.

Y/N opens her eyes. For a while, she doesn’t recognize her surroundings, but she lets out a sigh of relief when she notices a familiar picture or her and Natasha on the wall. She’s in Natasha’s room.

Just then, Natasha steps into the room. “You’re awake.” She sets the tray of food she was holding down, immediately sitting next to Y/N. “Do you remember what happened?” She starts brushing her hair with her fingers.

“We were at the HYDRA base and there was gas and I passed out, then I heard a loud scratching noise and passed out again.” She mumbles, she’s still feeling groggy.

“I had to inject you with an anesthesia to make you pass out.”

Looking down at her hands, Y/N’s mind starts spinning around. “Why would you do that?” Her voice is high and her eyes wide.

“Because the gas was the super soldier serum they used on you, do you remember that? On the file we found, there was something about paranoia and hallucinations. Bruce thinks those are side effects of the serum.” Natasha explains, her voice soft and slow. She keeps brushing her hair gently. “He doesn’t think the effects are just yet, so you have to stay here for a bit, okay? But I’ll stay here with you, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

She hums, scratching her arm. Although, she was told not to worry, she can’t help but worry. Her mind is racing and most of the thought swirling around aren’t good. Is Natasha lying? She glances at her. The look on her face is sympathetic, maybe even pitiful.

“You should eat something.” Natasha grabs the tray and sets it on her own lap. “Wanda made some soup and bread.” She lifts up the spoon and carefully moves it to Y/N’s mouth, she opens and eats.

Y/N eats half of the soup and all of the bread, not feeling like eating the rest of it. She’s still on high alert, her head snaps towards every single sound, real or not. Natasha keeps coaxing her out of the paranoia, but it rarely helps, not when she’s paranoid of Natasha’s intentions too.

“The scratching isn’t real?” She mumbles, staring at the door.

“It’s not.” Natasha gets under the covers with her, getting as close to her as possible without actually touching her. She doesn’t want to be touched right now. “No one is there.”

“Can you check?”

“Yes.” She gets up and opens the door, first peeking out and then fully opening it so Y/N can see behind the door as well. “Completely empty.” Closing the door, she gets back to her spot. “We’re safe here.”

Safe. She doesn’t feel safe. She feels naked and vulnerable, like everyone can see the deepest parts of her, the ones she wants to keep hidden. She glances at Natasha. Can she read her mind? She’s a spy. They’re both spies. Is she able to hide anything from her?

“I’m scared.” Y/N whispers.

Natasha opens her laptop and puts on Arcane, she sets it on her legs so both of them can see it. “Come on.” She mumbles, carefully pulling Y/N against her chest. The cover is pulled over them. “Try to sleep it off, okay?” She rubs Y/N’s back, kissing the top of her head.

Y/N stares at the screen, the show brings her some comfort, but not enough. So, at times she keeps glancing at the dark corners of the room, sure she saw something move there, but whatever she saw, is gone the moment she turns to look.

That night, Y/N doesn’t sleep.

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