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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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Always You | JJK (Three)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?),oc and jungkook being adorable bffs, shady tae, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mentions of sex, vaginal intercourse, hickeys, orgasms,

Notes: I actually really enjoyed writing this part! Where’s my bff for bff bubble bath? Lmaaoo. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read. Don’t forget to send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredescarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @jkslachimolala

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“You want me to what now?” your voice is unnecessarily high pitched.

“Meet my parents.” Taehyung gives you that awkward Chrissy Teigen meme smile. “Listen—I know it sounds crazy and horrifying but they’re really nice…”

“But why?”

“It’s my fault…I didn’t consider having my sister on social media…and I keep posting you and she told my parents and they’re real excited about me having a girlfriend…and I don’t want to crush them.”

You and Taehyung are seated on your living room couch, enjoying a lazy Thursday afternoon after classes. He brings his cup of water to his lips and takes some generous gulps.

“Listen, y/n I will literally pay another month’s worth of coffee…please just think about it.”

More free coffee? Fuck, that’s kind of a steal considering how expensive that shit is and you no doubt have an addiction.

“…fine…” you say hesitantly, “when?”

“Really?” Taehyung lights up like a spot light, “Well, I was thinking this weekend?”

“T-This weekend? That soon? Which day?”

Taehyung showcases a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his no doubt.

“Like, the whole weekend.”

Your eyebrows crawl to the top of your head as you gape at him, “What do you mean?”

“Like, we would get there in time for dinner on Friday, then stay all day Saturday and leave Sunday morning before they leave for church. Unless you wanna go to church with th—”

“No, not really.” You run your fingers through your long strands, “Holy shit, okay we are doing this.” You nod to yourself, “What’s our story? You know they’re going to ask.”

“Huh? Uh…just the truth. I met you through Jungkook and we hit it off and we started dating.”

You sigh to yourself, wishing that were actually true.

“Just be yourself, y/n.” Taehyung smiles at you. You beam back at him, and his boxy smile only grows wider. “They’ll like you, it’s not that hard to…” his hand reaches for yours, your palms are a bit sweaty since you are feeling like a nervous wreck at the thought of meeting his parents.

Suddenly, the front door swings open and in comes your best friend (who is still mad at you). He walks in slowly eyeing the two of you on the sofa. He notices Taehyungs hand wrapped around yours and Taehyung quickly pulls away. Jungkook takes a look at your face, you’re lost in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Jungkook is yes, still mad at you but also, since he jacked it to your face he is being a little nicer. But as much as he has tried not to have those type of thoughts of you before, it’s not like he hasn’t. So, he’s gotten good at pretending all is well.

“What’s with her?” Jungkook pries, walking closer to the sofa.

“Noth—”

“I’m meeting Tae’s parents.” You cut in to say.

Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks between you and Taehyung. He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping closer to the two of you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. “You’re going this far?” now Jungkook’s face is tilted towards Taehyung. “Why are you going this far dude?” Taehyung stands to his feet, “I—”

“No man, you’ve already dragged her into your shit and now you want her to what, meet your parents?” Jungkook’s voice rises in volume and you start to feel uneasy. Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook—”

“End this.” Jungkook spits out, getting in Taehyungs face. “How is this fair for her…”

You stand up too, your hand pulling him back by the shoulder. “Jungkook stop.” Your voice is unusually calm.

“I’m helping Tae out because we’re friends and also, ya know, free coffee.” Jungkook turns to face you, his teeth gritting in frustration.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Jungkook whispers. And with that he takes one more look at Taehyung, shakes his head in disapproval and walks off towards his room.

You and Taehyung continue to stand there in silence, you feel embarrassed because of Jungkook’s actions and ashamed you didn’t do more to stop him. Taehyung on the other hand looks completely defeated.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook I don’t know why he—”

“I should go,” Taehyung cuts you off, he gives you a weak smile before grabbing his things and heading towards the door.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” you sway from side to side, feeling as awkward as you probably look.

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, instead he rubs the back of his neck with a frown decorating his face. Finally, he meets your eyes and offers another weak smile.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he is already walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

You’re left alone in the living room with nothing but a cold, empty couch and your million racing thoughts. Why is Jungkook so against you and Tae? Maybe Jungkook is afraid that you’ll become so close with Tae that he thinks you’ll replace him…but you know in your heart of hearts Jungkook is irreplaceable. Why can’t Jungkook understand that? You haven’t been spending as much time with him lately and maybe that’s the problem. What can’t a drunken slumber party not solve?

You knock on his door, waiting for a ‘come in’ but it never comes. So you knock again. And again. Until finally Jungkook swings open the door with a frustrated sigh and pained look on his face.

“Look, before you scold me—”

“Actually, I had an idea.” You say quickly.

“Oh?” Jungkook’s features relax.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our BFF slumber parties.” You slant your head to the side, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds before his eyes fill with something interesting.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “it’s been a while.”

“What do you say? Tonight? Me and you? Wine? Anime? Video games? BFF bubble bath?”

“Wow, you want the works.” Jungkook grins. “But you realize I’m still…” he takes a deep breath when he notices your worried, pleading eyes. “Step into my office and we can discuss the details.” He says, opening his door wider, inviting you inside.

His room looks clean besides the few articles of clothing scattered on the ground. He has a scented candle going and LoFi music playing lowly on his speakers. Lofi and candle? He only has that combo when he’s stressed and trying to calm down.

You take a seat on the edge of his made bed, and Jungkook follows you, also taking a seat on his bed next to you.

“14% and up only for the wine.” He states.

“Agreed. Action or horror for the anime.” You pitch in.

“Agreed. Mario Kart for the video game.”

“Agreed. Life altering secrets only for BFF Bubble Bath.”

Jungkook chews on his lips as he thinks of your request. “Okay.”

You clap your hands excitedly for tonight, your chest bubbling with happiness. This is what you and Jungkook need.

~~~~~~

Jungkook is even more excited for BFF slumber party night than you are. He’s missed you. There’s been a real disconnect with the two of you lately and thinks tonight is exactly what the two of you need. He is just coming home from buying 4 bottles of 16% wine and lots of snacks. He got the salty, the sweet and the sour. Feeling proud of his choices, he sets the groceries down and calls for you.

You walk out from the bathroom with a facemask glued to your face with another packet in your hand,

“For you, sir.”

Jungkook chuckles as he grabs the pack from your hands, “Okay, I’ll go put this on, while you pour us some wine.” He nods towards the bottles.

You happily oblige. You grab the cork screw from its designated place in the kitchen drawer and begin to open the first bottle of wine. It opens smoothly, without a hitch.

“Wow…engineering is amazing.” You whisper to yourself in awe.

“What’s amazing?” Jungkook walks into the kitchen, you take a long look at his appearance. The white facemask making him look like a ghost.

“Your face.” You chuckle, a finger going up to touch the material on his skin.

You twirl to face the kitchen cabinets and pull out two wine glasses for you and your BFF and poor a gracious amount of wine in each. You hand him the glass and you clank the glasses together in cheers.

“To us.” You chirp happily, chugging back a gulp of your drink.

Jungkook just watches as you wince at the disgusting flavor and cackles to himself before taking a sip of his own drink.

The two of you grab the bottle of wine and your glasses and make your way into the living room.

“Alright we go by the normal house rules, whichever place you get is how many seconds you chug your drink.” You explain.

“Are you talking to an imaginary audience y/n? I already know the rules.” Jungkook teases.

“I was just trying to get the competitive mood going.” You poke your tongue out, Jungkook is quick to try to grab it between his fingers.

“Ugh, you are so gross.” You groan.

“You love it.” Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes begin to disappear. “Well, let’s play!”

One thing you absolutely can’t stand but also completely adore about Jungkook is that he is a sore loser. And also an ungracious fucking winner.

“You SUCK!” Jungkook cackles obnoxiously in your face, “Like I hope you enjoy chugging for five—no, SIX seconds you mother fuckin loser.” He continues to laugh loudly much to your annoyance but a part of you feels warm that he is having so much fun. You haven’t seen him laugh like this in weeks.

“Okay I get it.” You roll your eyes so far back into your head all you see is whites.

This was the 3rd time in a row you’re getting 6th place, your vision is started to blur at the amount of alcohol you’ve chugged. But only a little, nothing you can’t handle.

“Okay y/n let’s stop now, we can watch some anime while we order some pizza?” he grins your way. “I vote Tokyo ghoul. And the rule is we drink every time Kaneki is fucking cry baby.”

“Well damn, guess we’re getting fucked up.” You declare. You and Jungkook laugh to yourselves at the thought.

The show is on, pizza has been ordered. Life is good. You sneak a glance at Jungkook as he pays attention to the show on screen. You smile when he smiles, you smile when he laughs, you smile when he pouts. Jungkook finally manages to notice you staring at him and snaps his head to you.

“What?” he asks with a toothy grin.

“Nothing…” you sing, your bright smile rivaling the light coming from the TV.

It’s been several hours, two medium pizzas have been demolished, 4 wine bottles have been drank and lots of anime has been watched. You and Jungkook sit on the sofa wrapped in blankets, neither one of you wanting to get up to turn the fan off.

“So cold.” You slur.

“Come closer.” Jungkook slurs back.

“Or we can warm up with BFF Bubble Bath?” you offer, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook zones out for a second, thinking of your request.

“Been a while since we had one of those, huh?” he finally says something.

“yeah, which is a real shame, isn’t it? I mean, we literally get into our swim suits, draw a hot bubble bath, get in sitting opposite of each other and tell each other our secrets, our hopes and dreams. Then we make a wish that the other person HAS to support and we can’t tell anyone else or else it won’t come true.” You mumble mostly to yourself.

“y/n…once again are you speaking to an imaginary audience?” he chuckles, “I know what a BFF Bubble Bath is.”

“Then hurry up and draw that bubble bath mister know it all.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, he’s got on his red swim trunks. His hair is a fucking mess, and his eyes are giving away how intoxicated he is but he’s got this dopey smile on his face that he decides is a good look on him. He looks happy. He feels happy.

You walk into the bathroom and eye your best friend. You can’t help but drop your gaze to his thighs, God, you love when he wears tight pants or shorts.

“What’s up buff guy?” you tease, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

“Shut up” Jungkook shudders from your touch. Then he takes one long look at you and he wants to faint. You’re also wearing a red swim suit, it’s one of those strapless kind. The two of you eye each other up and down, observing your matching swim suits and shoot each other some finger guns.

“hehe…well, shall we?” you say, gesturing towards the bubble filled tub.

Jungkook nods his head yes and motions for you to step in first.

The water is hotter than you are expecting, your toes wet with lava. But it’s just how you like it, you have both legs in as you begin to sink deeper into the bubbled water.

“come on in” you wave Jungkook over, he drunkenly stumbles forward until he’s wincing at the hot water that meets his skin.

“You’re really the queen of Hell if this temperature is enjoyable to you.” He deadpans.

“Why thank you, does that make you my loyal servant?”

“ha-ha.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a while, enjoying the drunken haze.

“So anything new going on with you?” you begin to pry.

You prying is never a good thing but you can never help yourself. His past is such a mystery to you and it drives you nuts. You’re supposed to be best friends yet he can’t even tell you about his parents without it getting real awkward. He knows all about your family history, but all you know about his is that his dad cheated the whole marriage and his mom finally left him for it—leaving Jungkook behind as well. You understand why it must be hard to talk about but...doesn’t he want to confide in you? You of all people?

“Not really.” Jungkook fingers play with the bubbles at his chest.

“Any girls? Like not just hookups but—”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Such a fucking Jungkook thing to say, it’s always ‘don’t worry about that y/n’ and never ‘let me actually tell you some real information y/n’.

“Jungkook,” you wine into the bubbles.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you have a girl you like???” and suddenly drunk y/n doesn’t want to know this answer. Would sober you?

Jungkook looks down at his wrinkling hands and doesn’t know what to say. Does he?

“No.” is the answer he settles for. And suddenly relief is washed over you.

You want to ask him the thing you are most curious about—his family. But he has said it a million times to you every time he’s asked—its ‘a touchy subject’.

“Ask about it.” He suddenly says, “I know you want to.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, yes indeed I have no clue.” You slur.

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fine…when’s the last time you talked to your dad? I know he made mistakes…but I also know he has tried reaching out to you over and over. He calls almost every day Jungkook! Maybe he’s changed. I know your mom left because of everything and you blame your d—”

“Mom…” he begins to cut you off. You notice his eyes gloss over and you feel your heart drop. Jungkook rarely cries and rarely cries in front of anyone. Then he’s clearing his throat, “You’re right. Moms not in the picture anymore and I do blame dad.”

“I hate that your mom left you Jungkook…” you say softly. “She’s the worst for that,”

“You have no idea.” Jungkook breathes out. “Let’s change the subject, please.”

“But—”

“Please, y/n.” his eyes are pleading and you feel your heart drop again. You wonder if he will ever be ready to talk about it.

“Actually…” he awkwardly plays with the bubbles in front of his chest, “There’s something I want to say.”

“What is it?” you can’t help but feel anxious all the sudden.

Jungkook avoids your eyes as he plays with the bubbles, he takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head, “Sorry for what?”

“I’ve…” Jungkook scrunches his face up, contemplating what to say. “I’ve been really unfair to you. I should of never treated you this way…I don’t know what came over me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was hurt, yes, that you chose Taehyung over me but since the beginning I’ve been such an asshole. Fuck, y/n…” his voice cracks, “I’m so sorry. I just wish I could…” he pauses, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing. I just hope you’ll be careful with Taehyung.” He shakes his head again, “Oh my god, I am so selfish.” He laughs pathetically. “I’m sorry…”

You stay quiet for several moments, you want to agree with him. Yeah it was fucked up what you did, but he wasn’t any better this whole time.

“Why were you such an asshole?” you finally ask.

“Don’t worry about it y/n.” GOD DAMN. You are tired of that response!

You scoff, “And why are you so wary of Taehyung? I don’t get it!”

“Can you just trust me? Please?”

“I’ll just trust my own judgment for now…”

“y/n…” then he is looking into your eyes more seriously, “I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip as you think about his apology. Is he sorry? By the looks of it, yes. But he was so childish…you decide to grab his hand and play with his fingers. He stares down at your hands and smiles softly.

“Will you behave?” you tease lightly. Your fingers weaving through his. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and nods his head slowly.

“Yes.”

“Then I will forgive you for now but you’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little. “Yes mam.”

“Fine!” you say clasping your hands together, “Secret time!”

“Oh great,” Jungkook chuckles. “You first”

“Okay, hmmmmm.” You hold your chin up in deep thought. “Okay I got one I have never told you.” You grin mischievously.

“Okay, go for it.”

“When I was really drunk I most definitely made out with Trina.”

“Yeah, I was there. I’m the one who told you that you should kiss her. I said kiss though, like a peck. But your ass added tongue and all.”

“Wait what? Why would you tell me to do that!”

“I thought it would be hot.” He shrugs.

“Wack.” You slap his hand, “Your turn.”

“Ummm…” Jungkook leans back in the tub, “I’m the one who told Jimin to dare me to kiss you our freshmen year.” Jungkook says just above a whisper. He’s been holding in that secret for 3 years.

“Wait, what?” you ask, totally off guard.

“Yeah.” Is all he responds with.

“You wanted to kiss me back then?”

“Wasn’t it obvious considering how things escalated…”

Your eyes expand in size, the memory of that night flashing in your mind.

“We agreed to never talk about it, ya know, to save our friendship and what not.” You point out.

The bubbles cover your bathing suit perfectly so little was left to the imagination. Jungkook keeps eyeing the swell of your breasts and the pop of your collarbones, you look naked if he has to be honest. And if he has to be honest it was starting to turn him on. Should that be a secret he shares?

“Jungkook?” you say for the 4th time trying to get him out of whatever drunken daze he was in.

“Huh?” he comes back down to earth. “What did you say?”

“I said, what are your dreams?”

“You know them already,” he shrugs.

“Video editor still?”

“Yeah. Maybe Director.” He smiles timidly, “What about yours?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re in school for marketing. So something with that?”

“I just chose that because I know I can find a job in the field.” You sigh.

Jungkook studies your features, you look troubled. He leans forward to grab your hands again and says , “Whatever you wanna do, you’ll be great at it,”

You crease your brows together and a pout forms on your lips, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The two of you smile at one another until you break the silence, “Its getting too hot we should get out soon.”

“Agreed.” Jungkook nods his head.

“Alright let’s make our wishes that we MUST support.” You stick your pinky out for Jungkook to take, “I’ll go first.” Then you become shy with your next words, “I wish Taehyung would feel the same way about me I do about him.”

Jungkook’s smile falters but he takes your pinky anyway.

“My turn…I just…I wish you will be happy.”

You widen your eyes, “Wow,” you say, “What a selfless wish. You shouldn’t waste it on me!”

“It’s my greatest wish right now though…” he slurs his words.

You can’t help but smile as you take his pinky in promise.

Now in some fresh pajamas, you and Jungkook both stand in front of his bedroom door. The two of you are pretty damn drunk but holding it together quite nicely. He sways from side to side with that bunny smile and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. He takes a moment but he hugs you back. You pull away much too quickly for his liking.

“Hey y/n…”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook clears his throat a few times, his eyes darting all around the place, “Could you ever…hate me?”

“Never.” You answer quickly.

Jungkook is hit with a wave of guilt, a wave so big it comes crashing and knocking him down.

“Would if…no, never mind.”

“Never.” You say again.

Jungkook’s smiles fades a bit before a new smile takes over.

“I understand. Goodnight y/n.” and he leans down and places a kiss on your cheek. “sleep well.”

Fire. You feel the burn of fire. His kiss lingered for a second too long because you are burning. His kiss was scorching hot and you can’t help but melt from the heat. You are left speechless. From a kiss on the cheek.How did a kiss on the mother fucking cheek have you reacting this way?

“G-Goodnight Jung—” but the door is already softly closing in your face before you can finish your sentence.

~~~~~

The sun is coming through the blinds in the most offending way, you want to open your eyes and start the day but you just cannot. You have a raging headache from all the wine you quickly drank and you come to accept your fate—you’re hungover. As hell. You crack one eye open to see the time on the clock: 1:52pm

Immediately you sit up in bed, realizing you have slept way too long. How late did you and Jungkook stay up last night? Oh, last night. You smile softly at the memories of the night before. It was a perfect BFF slumber party. You haven’t seen Jungkook that happy in a while and you wonder if the same goes for you.

But then reality sets in—Taehyung is going to be here in 2 hours and you haven’t even thought about what you’re packing for your trip. You still need to eat, shower and get ready. You begin to mentally pack for your trip when you hear a single knock on your door before its opening up and a wild Jungkook appears.

“Morning sleepyhead.” He says with his signature bunny grin on his face.

“Jungkook! Help me pack!” you jump out of bed and walk to your closet, dragging out an oversized overnight bag.

“Like, parent appropriate clothes—I am freaking out by the way. I am meeting Tae’s parents and would if they don’t like me?”

“Relax, relax.” Jungkook walks inside your closet, bringing out a few clothing options. “They’re going to love you.”

“Do you…” you chew on your bottom lip, “Do you think your parents would have loved me?” you ask cautiously.

Jungkook freezes. He is silent for several long moments, making you believe you should not have asked that. But then he turns to face you with a strange smile, “Mom and dad would have adored you.” Then he pats your shoulder. “I put in some good options by the way.” He says pointing to the bag.

“Oh thanks.” You say totally caught off guard. “Okay I’m going to shower can you please, pretty please make me something to eat? I will love you forever.”

“You already love me forever.” Jungkook states matter of fact. “But sure, but don’t blame me if you don’t like what I make.”

“Oh god, you’re making me instant ramen aren’t you?”

“Love you.” He says, walking out of your room.

~~~~~~

“I made a playlist for our drive.” Taehyung hands you his phone, “It’s called ‘Meet the Parents’” he laughs to himself, pointing at the playlist on the screen for you to click.

“The first song is called ‘Please love me’ by Colde” you chuckle, “You think you are funny, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little” he smirks. “But really, relax. My parents are chill, they’re gonna like you, I promise.

“Well, we have a 2 hour drive Tae Tae.” Taehyung blushes hard at the nickname and for once it does not go unnoticed by you.

“I have a question for you y/n…”

You quirk a brow at his curiosity, “What is it?”

“How do you have the opportunity to fake date me? Like, don’t you have someone you like or guys chasing after you?”

“Oh I don’t have much luck with that.” You answer honestly. “With dating and such.”

“And why’s that?” he pries deeper.

“To be honest most guys I have dated end up dumping me if I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

You grip your purse in your lap, your hold so tight your fingers become sore.

“Dump Jungkook.” You breathe out, “They were always so jealous of him…and… gave me a choice. Them or him,” you pick at the material of your purse, “I always chose Jungkook.” You huff, “Besides I didn’t like those guys that much anyway.”

Taehyung is quietly listening to you, nodding his head at your words. Once at a stop light he turns to face you,

“Yet when I asked you to dump Jungkook, you did.” He points out in a hushed tone.

“I…” you pause, thinking carefully on what to say. “I guess I did.”

Taehyung smiles. But it isn’t his boxy grin, it’s an odd smile. You become anxious, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Right.” Taehyung says before facing the road again, accelerating through the green light.

“How did you and Jungkook becomes so close anyway?”

You can’t help but simper.

“Well, we met at a frat party but ended up at a 24 diner until like 9 the next morning. We just—we just really hit it off. I felt like I could say or be anything in front of Jungkook and he would always just give me a silly look and accept whatever it is, whatever I am. You know when you just vibe with someone so well?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Well that was us. We could say anything and still always want to continue the conversation. We ended up taking some of the same classes and studied together then that turned into regular hang outs and then it was like bam—I was with him almost every day.” You smile fondly at the memories.

Taehyung glances at you, he wears a sad smile as he asks, “Have either of you ever caught feelings for the other?”

You choke on the air around you, “What?” then that night from freshmen year flashes in your mind, “No…no.” you say trying to convince him, or is it to convince yourself?

The next few minutes are pretty quiet during the drive, but nothing awkward. You unzip your purse to pull out your phone to see you have unread messages from Jimin.

Jimin 5:30pm

Hey babe, heard you were going to meet Tae’s parents

Jimin 5:31pm

How is Jungkook feeling?

y/n 5:44pm

what do u mean

Jimin 5:45pm

y/n…nothing girl

y/n 5:45pm

????

Jimin 5:46pm

It’s really nothing. Anyway

Jimin 5:46pm

You and tae huh

Jimin 5:46pm

I am happy for you and tae…if that’s what you really want

You stare down at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether to tell Jimin the truth. He is one of your best friends after all.

y/n 5:55pm

tbh with u jimin…im not really dating tae..were just pretending to get this girl off his back

Jimin 5:56pm

What???? Really?? Wait, what girl?

y/n 5:57pm

Some chick named Anna

Jimin 5:57pm

Wait…Anna…?

Incoming call: Jimin

“Are you going to answer that?” Taehyung asks from beside you.

You want to but you two are pulling into his parents drive way and you don’t want your first impression to be that you were on your phone, so you send Jimin a quick text that you can’t talk.

You and Taehyung step out of the car and his parents are already standing outside on the porch. His father has his wife in his arms, they look happy to see Taehyung—they look happy in general.

“Oh! My baby bear!” his mother strides forward until Taehyung is wrapped in her loving arms. She sways their bodies back and forth as she smiles and laughs, the joy of having her son with her evident.

Taehyungs dad is about the same, he pulls him in for a tight hug and scolds him for not visiting more. Then it is your turn. You stand there awkwardly but not for long because Taehyungs mother is embracing you all the same.

“I have seen lots of pictures of you! But you are even prettier in person!” she gushes, her hands holding yours. You can’t help the blush that creeps up on your face as she speaks to you.

“Why don’t you two come inside?” his father gestures towards the house, “We got dinner nice and hot.”

Taehyung blushes as he watches his parents interact with you, he knew they would warm up to you fast but still it makes his heart race.

Dinner goes by quickly, his parents talking a storm. They begin sharing childhood stories about Taehyung and show you baby pictures as he sits there protesting. His pouting face is so cute you could die.

“And here he is with just a towel!” his mom squeals. “But I am sure you have seen that view already.”

“mom…” Taehyung draws out the word in a whine. You just giggle as she continues to show you pictures of baby Tae Tae.

Finally, Taehyungs sister joins the party and she teases him just as much as their parents. You feel right at home with the Kim’s. They are warm and inviting and make you feel so…at peace.

“Oh!” Mrs. Kim pauses, “look at the time!” she points down at her watch that rests on her left wrist.

“It’s gotten so late, my my. Well, us old folks are heading to bed. You two should get some rest as well.” She motions towards you and Taehyung. “Taehyung can show you the room you two will be staying in.”

“Room? As in singular?” you sputter out.

“Well, we only have one room open. One bed.” She juts her lip out innocently. “I figure you two are a couple so…”

“Yeah, we will be fine.” Taehyung cuts in. “Get some rest mom…dad.” He nods towards his father.

One room? One bed? With The Kim Taehyung. Granted that yes, you have become like, friends with Tae so you are more comfortable. But to share a room? Share a bed?

You follow Tae up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom. It has a single queen size bed in the middle of the room against the wall. You feel flustered like it’s the first time you spoke to him.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Taehyung offers with a shy smile and all your worries vanish. That’s right, Taehyung is a gentlemen and you have nothing to worry about.

“No, it’s fine” you assure him, “We are adults Tae, we can share a bed.”

Your hangover still lingers and the drive is starting to take its toll, your eyes feeling heavy as sleep invites you to visit.

“Let’s sleep.” You yawn out.

Taehyung nods his head with a smile and walks towards the bathroom, “I’ll get ready for bed in here,” he motions towards the bathroom, “and you can change in here. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“Alrighty”

You fall asleep quickly, letting your dreams take over for the night.

Winter break just started and you are supposed to go see your parents but when you found out your new friend Jungkook was going to be spending the holidays alone in his dorm you just could not let that slide.

“It’s not a big deal, y/n. I’m used to it.” He states in a plain fashion.

“it IS a big deal JK. My parents can handle one Christmas without me, but I am afraid you cannot.” You say with a smirk.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jungkook is typing away on his laptop working on a last minute assignment his professor is letting him turn in late.

“Because even though I’ve only known you for like, 4 months, you’re like my closest friend here.”

“Don’t act like you have a closer friend somewhere else”

“Why do you have to call me out like that?”

Jungkook snickers, click clacking away on his keyboard, “Finally, I’m finished.” He says closing the laptop. Jungkook looks up at you.

“Go catch your flight y/n.” he says with a soft smile.

“Not happening.” You say more seriously.

Jungkook just stares at you for a long while and you stare right back. When the two of you look into one another’s eyes it’s never weird or awkward. You always relish in it.

“You’re something else aren’t you?” he breaks into a toothy grin. “What would we do anyway?”

“We can have a slumber party? And call it BFF slumber party.”

“Sounds fun” Jungkook stands from his rolling chair and sits on the edge of his bed with you.

“You know, you might be the best friend I have ever had.” He whispers.

Christmas passes by in a flash and NYE’s is right around the corner. Your friends are going to be back for NYE’s because of all the parties that required all of your attendances.

New Year’s eve has arrived and you sit in your dorm with Trina as the two of you get ready for the night.

“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles under her breath, “If not this outfit is a complete waste.”

You giggle as you apply your red lipstick in the mirror. You get a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are already headed to the party so you rush Trina to get ready to go.

The party is booming. There are decorations everywhere, people everywhere, and drinks everywhere. You sip on a few beers, wanting to stay at least a little sober so you remember the night, and you hope Jungkook isn’t too trashed either.

Hours pass, lots of dancing goes down and more drinks go down…your throat. It was all fun and games until Jimin called for your group of friends to head to a bedroom to play an innocent game of truth or dare.

You stick to Jungkook’s side as the two of you stumble up the stairs, laughing loudly and holding hands to keep each other stable.

You all sat in a circle in the room, talking and laughing until Jimin clanked a glass with a spoon like a fancy bitch to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay first, lets start with Trina! Truth or Dare?” Jimin smirks.

“Dare, obviously.”

“Okay,” Jimin thinks for a few moments, “I dare you to flash everyone your tits.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Trina says as she quickly lifts her shirt. She was already braless. You and Jungkook cackle at the scene unfolding.

“Okay, Hobi…truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He says with an excited grin.

“Dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”

And the night went on like this until it was Jimins turn again,

“Jungkook, truth or dare?” Jimin had an evil glint in his eye, you should of known he was up to no good.

“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

“y/n?” Taehyung shakes you a bit more, “y/n?”

“Huh?” you begin to open your eyes and take in your view. You are in a small bedroom, there are posters on the wall and a small desk next to the bedroom door. And most importantly a Kim Taehyung in front of your face.

“What…What time is it?” you ask, sleep still evident in your voice.

“9:00” he grins down at you. “We’re going strawberry picking today, get dressed!”

You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the sleep that crusted them but it is no use, you are still exhausted.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Why? Why did you dream that memory? You shake your head trying to rid yourself of the lingering dream in your mind. That was a long time ago, time to move on.

You quickly shower and get dressed and meet Taehyung and his parents for breakfast.

“Wow, smells good!” you inhale the air, while smiling sweetly to Mrs. Kim.

“Do you cook y/n?” she asks, looking eager to know.

“Yeah, I do. Well, sometimes.” You laugh to yourself “My roommate is useless in the kitchen so someone has to cook.”

“That’s great!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, nodding approvingly to her husband. “Taehyungs last girlfriend couldn’t even toast a poptart.” She rolls her eyes but then smiles at you again.

Last girlfriend? You don’t recall Taehyung ever having a girlfriend in the time you have known him. Must have been a while.

“Mom…” Taehyung warns,

“Oh alright, we aren’t talking about her. What was her name again?”

“Mom.”

“Okay okay.”

You awkwardly play with your fingers at their back and forth. Who was his girlfriend? Were they dating more recently? Why has the energy shifted so much in the kitchen?

“So you two are going strawberry picking huh? That’ll be fun. Be sure you bring back the reddest, juiciest ones you can find!” Mr. Kim chimes in.

You and Taehyung arrive at the strawberry farm a couple hours later, you two are some of the only people there.

“Small town.” Taehyung explains.

“More for us.” You poke your tongue out. “You must really like strawberries Tae.”

“Actually, no. I’m tired of them.” His laughter fills your ears, you watch as he sways into your side “But it’s still fun and we can take some cute pics here.”

“Yeah, true.” You try to smile brightly but fall short. “Well I’m glad we’re getting some because Jungkook eats all the damn strawberries at home!” Taehyung watches as you giggle and he frowns.

You spend time walking side by side, taking lots of photos, and enjoying one another’s company. The wonderful breeze rushes through you, making you feel alive and well.

“No way! Trina did not do that!” Taehyung laughs so hard, shaking his whole body.

“I swear! I told her she was going to get caught but that bitch does not listen to me.” You laugh alongside him.

“And I swear to you, I was not about to get caught with her so me and Jungkook ran for it. I would rather fucking die.” You laugh again.

“You don’t say that type of stuff in front of Jungkook, do you?” Taehyungs tone becomes serious, surprising you.

“What stuff?” you tilt you head in confusion.

“You know ‘wanting to die’ bullshit. He really hates that because well, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t say that around him, he’s real sensitive about that for some reason.” You laugh awkwardly, swinging your arms side to side as you two walk.

“Well for good reason. Right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“If it’s about my best friend—”

“Sorry. Not my place.” Taehyung says more harshly. “Let’s just change the subject.”

Your mind begins racing…why is Jungkook so sensitive about that? What isn’t he telling you?

“Don’t think too much about it y/n.” Taehyung says softly. “He will tell you eventually.”

“Oh…” you bow your head down, “Okay…”

“Well, tell me more about you Tae.”

“what do you want to know?”

“let’s start with the basics! What’s your favorite color?”

Taehyung looks up at the sky and hums to himself, “I don’t have one but today maybe it’s blue.”

“You don’t have a favorite color? Why blue today?”

“The sky. It’s so pretty. I wish I could find this exact shade of blue and recreate this sky…” he sighs to himself, “But then again maybe today it’s green.” He gestures towards your top. “Because it brings out the color in your eyes.”

You pause mid walk, tilting your head up at him. “You like green today because I…I’m wearing it?”

“Is that strange?” he stops walking as well, “Because your eyes—”

“Why not choose the color of my eyes?” you tease.

“Because I like what wearing green does to them specifically.” He rubs your shoulder, “Come on, let’s keep going.”

You nod your head and the two of you continue your walk, he takes your hand in his and you smile to yourself. This feels like a real date.

“What are you most afraid of?” you feel his hand grow sweaty in your palm. “Like, for example, Jungkook doesn’t like spiders or…”

“Being left.” He blurts out. “But yeah, not a fan of spiders either.” He chuckles.

“Being left?”

Taehyung walks towards a bench and sits down, you follow his lead taking a seat close to him. He takes a few deep breaths and lowers his head.

“Imagine a parent or a significant other or even a friend…they say they love you and stuff…but then change their mind or something happens and they end up leaving. That’s what I’m most afraid of. Being left alone.”

You bite your lip, you realize he and Jungkook have this in common. Your hand rushes to find his, you gently stroke your thumb over his golden skin. “Someone would be absolutely crazy to abandon you, Taehyung.”

Surprising you, he scoffs.

“I’m serious…you are…just amazing. You’re sweet, funny, caring and kind and you make great art and you have great taste in movies…you also know the best pizza…” you continue to stroke his skin as you ramble, “You have the most genuine heart, Taehyung.”

Taehyung lifts his head to face you, he looks pained.

“y/n…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m here for you, you know?” you scoot closer to him on the bench and Taehyung leans into you.

“You’re too good to me…” Taehyung whispers so quietly you barely hear him. “You really think that of me?”

“Of course, I do. You make me feel…” the words die on your tongue when you feel Taehyung cup your jaw with his hand.

“You make me feel….too.” he whispers just loud enough that you hear him loud and clear.

Then Taehyung leans back, his hand dropping from your face, “I have to tell you something.”

“No.” you cut in. Whatever it is it can wait. Because…because you know it’s not something that will make you happy and you don’t want this weekend to be ruined. You just know.

“Tell me another time?” you lean into him, your fingers intertwining with his. “Please…”

Taehyung exhales deeply, frustration written all over his face. He turns in his seat to face you.

“Soon.” He promises.

“Ha, you sound like Jungkook.”

“Do you always find a way to talk about Jungkook?” Taehyung lifts your chin with his fingers.

“W-What?”

Taehyung looks serious for a second before he cracks a smile and laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

~~~~~

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me you ALSO love museums?!” Taehyung squeezes your hand in excitement.

“Yeah, they’re really interesting.” You smile.

“Oh my god, all our friends think they’re so boring. Well, Namjoon likes them. Anyway, why haven’t we gone on a museum date? I want to take you so bad now!” His eyes are shining like a child, you can’t help but adore him.

“Then let’s go sometime Tae.”

Taehyung lowers the basket he’s holding to the ground and takes your basket and sets it on the ground as well.

“I really…” Taehyung pauses, reaching his hand to grab yours. “Really had a nice time with you today.

You look down at your joined hands and smile. “Me too, Tae Tae.”

Taehyung leans over and pecks your cheek. It makes you smile.

“What was that for?” you ask shyly. “There’s no people around.” You chuckle a bit bitterly.

“Just felt like it,” his soft smile making you swoon. “Should we head back? My parents will probably be in bed by the time we make it back home.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

The house is dark and quiet when you enter through the front door. Only the sound of the ceiling fan rotating in cold, noisy circles could be heard. It was oddly calming and made the long day catch up to you.

“Let’s get ready for bed.” Tae whispers into your ear and it tickles.

The two of you head up the flight of stairs and enter the bedroom. You take turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, once all done you make your way under the covers and slowly close your eyes.

“y/n?”

You turn over in bed to face Taehyung, your faces just inches apart.

“Yes?” you whisper.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” The guilt in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as usual. “I wish there was something more I could do for you…”

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You giggle.

“I want to do more,” Taehyung gulps “I want to…” he scoots even closer to you, his hot breath fanning your face. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and his natural scent. It fills your nostrils and you suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to what?” you say with a shaky voice.

Taehyungs breathing begins to quicken, you can feel each rushed breath and you wonder what’s gotten into him.

“What do you want to do, Tae?” you ask again.

You can see Taehyungs tongue dart out to wet his lips and you can’t help but stare. His lips look so plump and delicious, you want a bite.

“I…I don’t know…” he turns to lay on his back. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your cheek today.” He turns back over to his side to face you again. “Is that wrong?”

Taehyung wanted to kiss you? Like, kiss you kiss you? You feel happy, yes. But do you feel your heart racing in excitement? You don’t know.

“Tae—”

“Even now, I still want to…kiss you…” his hand brushes against the skin of your cheek and you start to feel your heart beat just a little faster. Finally…

“But,” he pulls backs, “It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Why would it be wrong?”

“Because…y/n…I have to tell you some—”

You quickly lean over to seal his lips with yours. Usually your kisses are short and sweet and tender but this time you use more force as you press your lips over his mouth, the kiss sloppy and heated. He instantly kisses you back with fervor, your tongue prodding its way into his mouth and he obliges in seconds, his tongue playing with yours. You moan into his mouth and Taehyungs hands are all over you, they travel into your hair, down your back, grabbing your hips and rubbing your ass.

“Tae…” you whine out

Taehyungs fingers play with the hem of your shorts and you push your hips into his.

“Please.” You beg for more.

“But wait—”

“Please.” You repeat.

Taehyung stares at you for several long moments, thinking of what to do…he wants to devour you, if he had to be honest. But is this right? But he…

Then his eyes go dark, his gaze piercing.

“I’m going to taste you.” He says in voice so deep you even question that its him.

Next thing you know your shorts are pulled down along with your panties and Taehyungs mouth is an inch away from devouring you.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” He groans into your heat, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. And again and again. You quietly whimper into the pillow as his tongue fucks you.

“More Taehyung, more…” you moan, your hands gripping his hair.

Taehyung smirks up at you and inserts two fingers into your greedy cunt, he curls and scissors them inside you making you weep pathetically.

“That feel good sweetheart?”

Then he’s diving back in, his tongue assaulting your clit until you feel the buildup of your inevitable orgasm—you mean, it is Kim Taehyung.

He gives your clit one last good suck before you are reaching your high, pulling on his locks and moaning at a higher pitch. Fuck, that was good.

“You sound so fucking hot when you come…” Taehyung moves back up the bed as you lay there breathless. “Next time I want you coming on my—”

Taehyung stops himself from finishing that sentence. You watch as he groans into his hands, “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”

“Of course I do, Tae.” You flip to your side and find his lips. You give him a long kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “How could I not?”

Taehyung savors your lips on his, he finds his hands in your hair again as he deepens it. He should feel like shit but somehow he feels…good. And he’s confused as hell for it.

~~~~~

The next morning comes by quickly, you are saying your goodbyes to the Kim’s with promises that you will return soon. And you secretly hope you do.

The drive back to Uni is a slow one, you and Taehyung listen to his playlist and chat every now and then while he holds your hand. You smile like an idiot the whole time.

Taehyungs phone is in your hand as you slide through the music options, you’re about to choose a song when he receives an incoming text.

Anna 10:08am

You think that will work, Taehyung? Try harder.

You slide the message up, trying to ignore it. You don’t want some stalker to ruin the good mood you’re in. But you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. And why hasn’t he blocked her? You don’t say anything to Taehyung, he is also in a good mood and you don’t want to ruin it. He’s humming the tune from the car speakers and lifts his hand that holds yours and kisses it.

Another hour passes and you and Taehyung are in front of your apartment.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Taehyung questions sweetly.

“I’m sure!” you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and turn around to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Taehyung chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips. Then another kiss and then another. “Now you can go.” He teases.

You break out in a wide grin, and tilt your head up to kiss him one last time.

You walk up the steps to your apartment, and walk towards your front door. What an amazing weekend, you think. You got to know Taehyung a lot better, you met his parents and you two shared an unforgettable night—at least for you. Oh no. Should you have returned the favor? Instead of worrying about it you decide it’s okay, he owes you after all. You chuckle to yourself as you unlock the front door.

You step inside your apartment with a an idiotic, dopey ass smile plastered on your face.

“What’s with you?” Jungkook asks from the living room couch.

“Oh nothing,” You sing, “Just had a really good weekend.”

“Oh? So I guess meeting his parents went well?” Jungkook stands to meet you at the entrance, he takes your bag for you and sets it down.

“That too.” You giggle.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I’m serious, what’s up with you?” he can’t help but smile. You look so happy.

“Nothing we just… we just…” you bite your lip, contemplating on what to tell Jungkook.

“You… just?” his smile begins to fade as realization hits him. Then his face hardens. “Did he fuck you?” Jungkook’s voice is lower than you have ever heard it.

“What?” you choke out.

“I asked if this asshole fucked you?”

“Okay, one: he’s not an asshole. Two: no, he did not fuck me.”

Jungkook visibly relaxes.

Telling Jungkook the truth will probably only upset him for some reason so you decide against it. You don’t need his negativity right now. Finally, fucking finally, Taehyung is crossing a line with you…on the side where friendship is beginning to become blurred and nothing makes you more excited. You have been waiting for this, you have spent so much time with him and and… you need this.

“Okay…” Jungkook leans down and picks up your bag and heads to your room. You watch as he swings the bedroom door open and set the bag inside.

“Wanna order some food?” he calls out, walking towards you again.

“Honestly we got up pretty early this morning so I think I’ll take a quick nap. But after? If you’re willing to wait a couple hours?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest.” He smiles, jumping back on the couch and pressing play on whatever show he was watching.

Your bed is so unbelievably soft and warm that as soon as you sink in the sheets your eyes are already closing in exhaustion. But your mind stays awake…you think about the weekend you just had with Taehyung and all the progress you have made. You like him so much, you want nothing more than for him to feel the same way. At least you think you…anyway. You recall his lips kissing down your body, his tongue teasing your thighs, his hands gripping your hips.

Taehyungs dark eyes as he stares up from you is without a doubt one of the sexiest things you have had the pleasure of witnessing. Wait—why one of? Why can’t it be the sexiest thing you have ever seen? Then different images bombard your brain but you’re quick to throw them away. Only Taehyung lives in your mind rent free, god damn it. He ain’t gotta pay a penny.

You think about the light, teasing kisses he left on your neck…you think about his fingers and how they fucked you, god they felt so fucking good. You smile as you think about what else he could do for you…your lazy smile widens at the thought.

Your eyes are still closed and images of Taehyung run wild in your mind as you start to doze off. Yes, you can fall asleep with him in your thoughts. Your body feels heavier and heavier as sleep finally takes over, you welcome Taehyung in your dreams as well. At least you hope you dream of him.

The bed creaks beneath you as Jungkook guides you further up the mattress, his body hovering your own. His hands come to slide up your arms as you shiver under his touch.

“I’m giving you goosebumps.” He says while lightly stroking your arm, feeling each bump under his fingertips. “What else do I do to you?”

“So many things Jungkook…” you heavily breathe out, your chest is heaving at this point. The anticipation of his touch is driving you nuts.

“Need to find out.” He simply states, his head lowering down to the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and lowers himself between your spread legs.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do.

Jungkook’s slender fingers make their way skimming across your bare stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.

“I want these off, is that okay?”

You only nod your head.

“Words y/n. When you’re with me you use your words okay baby?” His fingers begin lowering your panties down. “Lift yourself for me.” And you obey. Jungkook slides your panties down your legs and you’re left completely naked underneath him.

“God, I can just see how wet you are.” You immediately force your legs shut, feeling embarrassed at his words.

“Not uh, I don’t think so. You got this wet for me? I want to see it. Open for me, baby.” Very hesitantly you begin to move your legs apart, the blush on your face deepening.

The rest is almost a blur. You can recall his fingers spreading your folds, you whining for him to touch more of you. You can recall his mouth hovering your pussy, his tongue swirling around your clit. You can recall his fingers stretching you out and moaning out his name. It’s what came next that is very clear in your mind. Its him kissing your lips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his cock sliding between your folds. The desire you feel for him is very real and he can feel that.

“Please, Jungkook!” You gasp out, as he teases his cock at your entrance.

Jungkook slides his gorgeous cock into you inch by glorious inch. His cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy, his harsh breaths fanning your face. Jungkook slams his eyes shut, his teeth gritting in anticipation as he waits for you to give the ok. You only gasp for air as he bottoms out, his dick reaching places no one ever has before, you slowly nod your head giving him permission to fuck you into oblivion. He says he could, so you’ll believe him. .

Jungkook opens an eye to look at you carefully, your face contorted in pleasure showing him how you are indeed okay to go on. Jungkook’s hand massages your hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. He begins to slowly ease out of you until just the tip remains then he slams his hips into yours. His body falls forward and he lifts your head up with his free hand and brings you closer for a wild kiss. He grinds himself into you deliciously, his hips rocking back and forth causing you to moan out for him over and over.

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

“Please, harder.” You manage to get out while gripping on to his wide shoulders, your finger nails digging into his soft skin.

Jungkook smirks down at you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite describe.

“Harder?” he questions, his lips coming down to suck bruises into your neck. “Deeper too?” he bites a particular spot that makes you groan.

“Just—just need more of you…” you grab his hair by the handful and yank his head back and bring his face to yours. Your lips meeting his.

His tongue slips past your lips, tongues dancing to the beat of his thrusts. His cock is buried so deep within you that you feel you are no longer a single person but now a person merged with another. You have never felt more connected.

Jungkook whines at the sight of you—your lips apart and eyes barely open. Your head is thrown back showing Jungkook all the pretty blooming bruises on your skin.

“So fucking pretty.” He grits out, eyes lit on fire.

You’re barely able to respond as he thrusts into you even harder, your tits bouncing with each movement.

“Gonna come soon…” he says between heavy breaths, his pace becoming sloppy.

“Gonna come inside me?” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Need you to come with me baby”

You could of came from his cock alone, that you are sure of but when his fingers meet your sensitive clit, you are seeing stars. He’s rubbing messy circles, easily sliding around from how wet you are, his fingers getting drenched.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his fingers bring you to orgasm.

You gasp out, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’s drawn from your body. “Fuuuuuucckk.” You whine, your orgasm leaving you breathless.

“I—I’m coming…” he pants in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He fucks into you quickly before stilling his hips and shooting his cum deep within you, decorating your walls. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You aren’t much better, your breaths also harsh. You look to the nightstand to read the clock that says 4 AM. Fuck, what did you do?

You just fucked your best friend.

Panicked and out of breath, you sit up in bed. Sweat forming on your hairline and dribbling down the side of your face. Why? Why this dream of all dreams? Why this memory?

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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football-writing · 3 years

Text

Ben Chilwell - insufferable

Prompt: "I'd rather argue with you, than kiss someone else." "You can't deny what's between us. We're perfect for each other."

Summary: Ben and Y/N are neighbours. They also seem to argue just about all the time.

Warnings: a little neighbour enemies to lovers something, a LOT of sexual innuendos, some curse words

"Ben, move." Her voice was stern, as annoyed with him as ever as he blocked the way to her door.

"C'mon, Y/N. I just wanna talk."

"You kept me up all night practising that goddamned piano with your stupid windows open. No, I will not talk to you. Now, move." She was getting agitated with him, foot tapping on the pavement as she wished for him to hurry up.

"You listen to me playing piano? How sweet. It's almost like I'm serenading you, isn't it?" He knew exactly what he was doing. How to rile her up and push her buttons. It's not something he had meant to happen - he'd obviously rather get along with his neighbour. But the way she puffed her cheeks, the intensity with which she looked at him as she got more and more annoyed made his belly erupt with butterflies.

"Get fucked, Ben." Was her only reply as she pushed his chest to get to her door, Ben gladly taking a step aside with his arms up in surrender and a shit-eating grin on his face. God how she wished she could wipe it off of him.

"Sure. You free tonight?"

She'd opened the door then, stepped inside and smacked it straight in the poor boy's face.

He wondered if the sexual comment was perhaps taking it a bit too far - knowing she didn't mean it like that at all. He wondered if he should knock on her door to apologise, too. But just then, her frontdoor opened again.

"And by the way, the piano sounds absolutely horrendous." Smack. She immediately closed the door again.

He let out a boisterous laugh, then. Her antics were just so cute.

"Can't get better if you don't practice." He yelled through the closed door.

"Leave me alone, Ben. I'll call the cops for stalking." Her muffled voice sounded right back, but he could tell even then that she was saying it with a smile.

"Alright, alright. Party at my place tonight. Join if you wanna." He called out before finally leaving her be.

She'd contemplated going, she really had. She wasn't that interested in spending the night at Ben's house, particularly because if his friends were anywhere similar to him, she'd be in for a hell of a night. But then again, she didn't have much else to do, and she could use a good distraction.

So there she was, knocking on his door on what she considered an appropriate time to arrive after the party had started. Perhaps she had peaked out the window to know when his friends arrived, coming half an hour later just to make him sweat as to whether or not she'd take him up on his offer.

"Ah, the queen herself made it." Ben said as soon as he opened the door, taking notice of the outfit she'd picked out. It was casual, but god, did it look good on her. He licked his lips before moving aside to let her in.

"Welcome to my humble abode, darling." He said as he trailed after her through his hall.

"Don't stare at my ass, Ben." She didn't even have to look back to know why he wanted her to walk in first.

"Too late."

She only chuckled as she walked into his living room. People were scattered around, some guys playing Fifa on his tv, others chatting amongst themselves and dancing to the beat of some random pop song. She wasn't entirely sure where to go, or who to speak to, as seemingly everyone was preoccupied with whatever they were doing.

Ben noticed, and placed his hand firmly on her lower back. She twisted her face to look at him, an uncertain look in her eyes, though she didn't swat his hand away.

He nodded for her to move towards the kitchen, his hand staying pressed against the small of her back to guide her.

The kitchen was a little quieter, and she rubbed her sweaty hands against her thighs as Ben got her a drink.

"I knew you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to spend time with me." He mentioned cockily as he handed her a red cup. Though the gesture was sweet, the words accompanying them made her want to roll her eyes. Were all footballers this annoying?

"Actually, just here for the free drinks." She replied as she lifted her cup.

Silence fell between them as she took small sips of her drink. She wasn't quite sure what she expected, but for him to keep standing next to her definitely wasn't it. Eyeing the people in the livingroom didn't lessen her confusion. He'd invited some girls over, dressed in tight dresses to show of their perfect figures. Why had he invited her? To stop from complaining about the noise?

"Are you not going to chat up those girls?" She questioned as she nodded her head in their general direction, not making any eyecontact with the boy next to her.

"Why, you got some sort of voyeurism kink?"

"Hm. Could probably give you some pointers. You don't look like you're very good at flirting." She replied nonchalantly, though her eyebrows raised at his bold remark.

"They're actually my friends' girlfriends." He explained truthfully. It was the first time she looked up at him during their little bickering. He was focused on drawing patterns with his finger on the counter behind them, which meant she could truly observe him.

He's not unattractive at all. His long hair messily falling over his forehead, his strong jawline still visible under his neatly kept beard. She wondered what his body looked like underneath his clothes. He'd always looked quite fit to her, something she'd attributed to his strict workout routine as a footballer. Still, his arms were muscular too, biceps twisting and veins twirling underneath his skin as he kept drawing invisible shapes on the counter surface. She just wanted to reach out and caress his biceps, the unholy thoughts filling her mind as she kept eyeing him from beside him. If he wasn't such an ass, maybe she would've wanted to pursue something with him. Maybe.

"You admiring the art, babe?" He questioned as if on cue, stilling his movements to look at her with a curious smile on his stupidly pretty face.

"God, you're so fucking full of yourself." She spat back as she rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning her focus away from him. He started to lean closer to her side, his arm snaking around her as his scruff teasingly rubbed against her cheek.

"You love it, really." He whispered lowly in her ear. The drop in his voice made her shiver, clenching her legs together. She cursed herself for letting him have this kind of effect on her, and so she composed herself as she took a tentative step away from him.

"I don't. But I'd love if you went to bother those girls instead. Maybe I can have some fun watching you flirt." She held her fingers up, moving them to indicate quotation marks at the last word as she threw him a fake smile.

"I'd rather argue with you, than kiss someone else." He replied matter-of-factly.

"Really, now?" She perked.

"Yeah." His voice sounder hoarse and rough, no effort in concealing the feelings currently coarsing through him. He raised his bottle of beer to take a sip, licking his lips before wrapping them around the bottle. She had a perfect view from beside him, seeing his adam's apple bop as he swallowed, the light perfectly illuminating his plump and moist lips that turned into a smirk as soon as he set the bottle down again. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Unfortunately for him, she could play that game, too.

So she took a daring step closer to him, resting her hand on his bicep that was definitely more defined than she previously imagined. She stood on her toes, reaching to whisper in his ear, her lips 'accidentally' grazing over his earlobe.

"Your little teasing makes me think youd rather kiss me too." She whispered seductively.

He didn't even reply, just grabbed her face to pull her into a kiss. He wouldn't have even thought of doing that half an hour ago, but now that she was teasing him, too, he figured it's what she wanted as well. Which is why he was so shocked when she pushed at his chest, her brows furrowed as her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Gross, Ben, have some decency." She scolded him. Truth is, she was much too aware of the other people in the room, not sure what they would make of their little predicament. Besides, if he started kissing her now, she wasn't so sure she could contain herself any longer. What's this boy done to you?

"C'mon, you can't deny what's between us. We're perfect for each other." He tried to reason with her, reaching out for her hands that she quickly moved out of reach from him. Was he really this oblivious, or was she just playing with him?

"I can actually." She smiled triumphantly at him as she pushed herself away from the counter. "And I don't believe in perfect."

"Y/N." He warned.

"Benjamin." She daringly spoke back, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. So, playing, then.

"You're insufferable."

"So are you." She said as she walked away from him, back to the hallway and opening his frontdoor, he was calling out after her, wondering if he really fucked up for her to be leaving now. She turned on her heel just as she stepped outside, looking right back at him with fiery eyes. He leaned against the doorway to look at her. He wasn't sure he trusted his legs to hold him up when she was looking at him like that.

"I don't kiss before the first date." He smiled at that. If he wasn't intrigued by her quick comebacks and arguing, he sure was now. She was playing his game, and she was winning, too. Though he tried his hardest not to show her.

"So go on a date with me." He deadpanned as he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Actually, I don't date footballers."

"Fuck you." He let out a laugh, then. One that vibrated throughout his chest.

"Maybe if you ask nicely." She added as she beamed at him, throwing him a wink. He tried to think of something to say, anything. But he was left a stammering mess, eyes wide at her explicit remark as she spun around and started walking the short distance back to hers. She had just swiftly shut him up, something not many people had the gift of doing. He was glad she didn't spare him another glance, because he was sure the angelic laugh that would erupt from her lips would cause his crimson cheeks to burn even harder. Damn him and his stupid games.

Damn her and her ability to see right through them.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell oneshot #ben chilwell imagine

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

an apple a day

pairing: soft!ransom drysdale x reader

summary: it seems like an apple a day couldn’t keep the doctor or ransom away.

warnings: sickfic, a lot of fluff, brief mention of throwing up

word count: 2k

author’s note: join my taglist if you’d like! all feedback is appreciated <3

Ransom

U busy?

4:37 PM

Ransom

😏🍆😈

4:38 PM

Ransom

Wow ignoring me?????

5:24 PM

Ransom

Bitch

5:34 PM

Ransom

🙄

5:36 PM

A frantic pounding on your front door pulled you from a bizarre dream within your feverish slumber. You peeled the slightly damp cloth that rest upon your face from your sweaty skin, and lazily tossed it to the floor before audibly groaning.

“Coming,” you whimpered out, hoping that it was loud enough for whomever was at the door.

“Fuckin’ better be,” a voice grumbled as a response.

You rolled over slightly, whole body sore from the sickness that was currently ailing you, and willed yourself to get off of your sofa. Swinging your legs over the left side of the piece of furniture you managed to get up, and sluggishly made your way to the door, ignoring the ache of your neck from resting it on an arm rest.

It seemed like with every step you took, your sinus headache throbbed harder between your eyes, and your fever cooked you a bit more from the inside out.

After what felt like a lifetime, you got to your door and opened it, only to be greeted by your… well, you didn’t really know what he was to you.

“Christ, Y/N. You look like shit,” Ransom commented, raising his brows. “Did you get hit by a car or something?”

You gave him a blank look, and said nothing.

“Is this a bad time?”

“What do you think, dickhead?”

“You’ve had better days,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Okay, goodbye,” you rolled your eyes and slammed the door on him, finding yourself slightly out of breath as you lethargically shuffled away.

You collapsed back onto the sofa, and reached for a blue tissue box that sat on your coffee table. Did that even happen? Did you imagine Ransom coming to your door? Or was that part of your fever dream?

Settling back, and pulling a wool blanket over yourself, you began to doze off once again, not really having the energy to do anything else.

Ransom

I’m s-word

6:12 PM

Ransom

I’m not gonna say it

6:13 PM

Ransom

But you know what I mean

6:15 PM

Ransom

I’m coming back over baby

6:17 PM

You hadn’t even noticed the vibrating of your phone, as it was currently lodged under a mountain of pillows and cushions. It also helped that you were asleep once again.

This time when you woke up, Ransom was in your apartment, rambling about some encounter he had while he was out dealing with the public for you.

How was he even in your apartment? You felt like you missed a few steps.

“Sit up,” he commanded, setting down a plastic take-out bag, along with the spare keys you kept under your welcome mat on top of your coffee table, before dragging a seat from your kitchen into your living room.

The seat finally came to a stop in front of you, and you listlessly sat up. You watched as Ransom wordlessly opened the bag, revealing a massive container of a clear broth soup, and an equally large baguette.

“Am I dreaming?” You asked aloud.

“Why would you be dreaming? ‘Cause I did something nice? Or because I’m that hot?”

“Because I have a high fever that’s making me delusional,” you told him, and his brows furrowed once again.

“Let me see,” he mumbled, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead, and humming in thought, “Yeah, you’re pretty hot,” he agreed.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you mumbled, a random churn in your stomach suddenly taking a huge blow out of you.

“Hey, I did a good thing for you. Don’t get bitchy with me now,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes slightly at you.

You sighed as a response, and Ransom gave you a little smirk before going to open the lid of the soup container.

“Open up wide, Beloved,” Ransom said in a playful tone. If you had the energy, you’d shoot something sassy back at him, but you were finding yourself in less of a state to do so with every passing moment. You simply followed along with his orders, opening your lips so Ransom could deliver a little spoonful of soup into your mouth.

“Mm,” you audibly reacted to the liquid, “did you make this yourself?”

“Hm, you must be sicker than I thought,” he chuckled and dabbed the edge of your lip where a droplet of soup was left behind. “I picked it up on my way back over.”

“It’s really good,” you hummed, “feed me more.”

Ransom scoffed fondly, “you’re lucky I like you.” He began, dishing out another spoonful to you.

You paused to chew on a softened carrot, “you should’ve known that sick me’s demands of you were gonna be a lot more.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, and went back to feeding you. You were both quiet for a moment, maintaining a heavy eye contact while he fed you, until out of the blue, your stomach turned.

Your mouth filled with saliva as you realized what exactly was going on, and you rushed off of the couch with an obscene swiftness, just barely making it to your bathroom before you were emptying your stomach into it.

Ransom quickly showed up behind you, making his presence known by lifting your hair out of your face, and rubbing supportive circles onto your back. He cringed as he listened to you heave into the bowl, and when you finally leaned back, he used a thumb to wipe away the few tears that had begun to slip down your face.

“You okay?” he questioned, squatting down to your level.

“Just peachy,” you choked out hoarsely.

“Maybe you’ll feel better after a shower?” he suggested, flushing your sickness down the toilet while you attempted to catch your breath.

“Okay, yeah,” you began hesitantly.

“I’ll stay in here if you want me to make sure nothing bad happens?”

“You just wanna be a perv,” you weakly giggled.

“I’m just trying to be a supportive… I’m trying to be supportive,” Ransom found his way back up, and turned on the shower’s nozzle.

“Mhm, I’m sure,” you began kicking off your sweatpants when you heard the water begin to putter down, and gestured for Ransom to help you lift off your sweatshirt once he was facing you once again.

“I can’t believe you’re using up the last of that energy to have an attitude with me,” Ransom pulled you out of your shirt, then helped you up and began to direct you toward the shower.

You were more or less silent from there on out, focusing on maintaining your balance in the slippery room. Your brain seemed to become increasingly cloudy with every extra puff of steam. You leaned against the slightly warm tiles of your wall as you attempted to get through the genuinely hellish shower for a few minutes before deciding it wasn’t really worth it, and stumbling back out.

“Was I right? Did it help?” Ransom asked after your period of silence, handing you some fresh clothing that he’d grabbed from your closet sometime between the time you got in and out of the shower.

You shook your head, “shower kinda made everything worse,” you muttered, pulling a new shirt over your head. “My head is killing me. I think I just need to be in a dark room, or go back to sleep, or something.”

You sluggishly pulled on the rest of your clothes, then sniffled as you walked out to your bedroom. As you made your way to your bed, you pushed aside a mountain of tissues from earlier in the… day? Week? With all the sleeping you’d been doing, you genuinely

couldn’t tell what time or day it was. You slipped into one side of the bed, and grabbed a pillow that you promptly hugged.

Ransom slipped into bed beside you, a bottle of cold medicine in hand– when did he leave long enough to get you cold medicine?– and watched the tissues on your side of the bed fall onto the floor in a slightly disturbed manner. Yeah, he was definitely getting sick after this.

“Open,” he ordered, and you happily obliged, opening your mouth a bit so he could pour some medicine down your throat. You dramatically gagged, then wiped the corners of your lips.

“Gross, Ran,” you muttered, burying your face into a different pillow.

“Well, it’ll probably make you feel better. I brought you water for a chaser if you’d like. You probably need to stay hydrated, or some shit like that.”

When did he get water?? Probably when he was getting the medicine. But that would’ve taken him like, five minutes. And getting in bed didn’t take you that long. Right?

You were pulled out of your confused internal monologue by a pink plastic straw being brought to your lips, and you instinctively drank from it. You weren’t completely sure if it was all mental, or the medicine was kicking in extremely fast, but you were starting to feel a little loopy. Maybe time was being weird again because of your sickness.

“I feel like I’m dying. You and your stupid showers made me die,” you whined, pushing away the straw.

“I was only trying to help,” he insisted as he set the drink down on your bedside table.

“I’m your second murder victim,” you continued.

Ransom paused and looked down at you with raised brows, “what?”

“Y’know, I saw what you did to that delivery girl who was bringing me soup. You better clean that body up before I get better, ‘cause ‘mgonna be pissed if I have to do that myself.”

“Okay, I don’t know if you’ve been seeing things the whole time, or if the medicine is rewriting your memories. Either way, I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” he chuckled.

“You’re right. Night,” you hummed before turning on your side and closing your eyes. It was pretty much lights out from there.

——

When you awoke, it was to the piercing bright light of a laptop screen that broke through the darkness of night. You had to blink a few times for your vision to focus, but… was Ransom in bed next to you? Looking at a WikiHow article? If you weren’t completely mistaken, you could make out a faint How to Help A Sick Person Feel Better: 8 Steps (with pictures).

You sleepily reached out and grabbed his wrist, letting him know that you were finally awake. He quickly clicked out of the tab, pulling up his Twitter feed instead.

“Hi,” you greeted. “Why’re you being secretive?”

“I’m not,” he huffed.

“You are.”

“You’re still delusional from the medicine.”

“Probably. But you’re being secretive. And you’re bad at it.”

“Whatever,” you could practically hear the eye roll in his tone.

“It’s late, Ran. Why’re you still up?”

“I just wanted to, y’know…” he trailed off.

“To…?” you pressed.

“I wanted to make sure nothing would happen to you while you slept,” he rushed out. “Happy?”

You swooned aloud at this, “you are such a sucker. Put that laptop down and cuddle me.”

Ransom said nothing, but set the device into your night stand, and wrapped an arm around you, “‘re you feeling any better?” he mumbled as he relaxed into you.

“Kinda. We’ll see in the morning,” you slipped your hand down on top of his, and Ransom promptly moved it.

“You’re already pushing it tonight.”

“You’re always such a dick,” you scoffed with a laugh. “Goodnight, asshat.”

“Goodnight, you sick bitch,” he quipped back.

——

When you awoke in the morning, you couldn’t help but to notice how much better you were feeling. No headache, no nausea, a little fatigue, but hey, you just woke up, and that was to be expected.

As you sat up and glanced to your right, you found a pink-nosed Ransom with a box of empty Kleenex sat in his lap.

“Oh great, you’re awake,” he began in a nasally tone. “Since you wanted to get me sick, it’s your turn to take care of me,” he tossed the empty box at you, the cardboard falling softly onto your lap.

Something told you that this was going to be a long day.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #ransom drysdale

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astronomoney · 3 years

Note

can i request 15 and 16 with tim drake? it’s alright if you don’t have time for it, it’s alright

Pairing: Tim Drake x reader (both in their 20s ish)

Prompts: Prompt list 15- “Make me”, 16- “If you don’t put a shirt i’m gonna have to kiss you and who knows where things will go from there”

Summary: Just you and Tim having a nice little date

A/n: i wrote this with a female reader in mind but i also didn’t use any specific pronouns so technically it could be gn!reader. also i have been trapped in the MHA fandom for like a 3 weeks so i couldn’t write anything that even resembled DC characters lmfao. Masterlist

Word count: 1.3k

Tag list: @battlenix

Late Night In

Life as a Gothamite is never boring. Every few days there’s a new murdering psychopath with a clever theme. Like the Riddler who dresses in green and asks, get ready for it… riddles! Some other honorable mentions include Killer Croc the killing crocodile, Mr. Freeze the guy who freezes stuff, and of course who can forget Scarface the dummy with a scar on his face.

All these villains prancing around town made dating a superhero unnecessarily difficult. Date nights were few and far between when there’s a killer clown on the loose. But you didn’t let that get in the way. You made the most of the time you had even if it was less time then you wanted.

It had been almost 3 weeks since Tim had a night off and you were dying to see him. Texting was fine for a week or two and you didn’t consider yourself a high maintenance or clingy person but you could only go so long without him. So when he called to say he had a night off you suggested he come over to your place to watch a movie and have some take out.

Your apartment wasn’t necessarily small but it definitely wasn’t big. The door opened right into a short hallway which led to the kitchen. There was a counter between the kitchen and dining area but nothing in between that and the living room. There were two doors and either side of the living room and the door to the left led into a bathroom while the door to the right was your bedroom.

When Tim arrived a little after 8 he was holding a bunch of roses and a cute stuffed bear with the words “I love you” stitched into its belly. There was a duffle bag slung over his shoulder that most likely held his sparring gear and his costume in a secret pocket at the bottom. He looked tired and smelled like a gym which brought you to conclusions that he did not go home after sparring and instead came straight to you.

He immediately started rambling about how much he’d missed you and how sorry he was for his busy schedule.

“I am so so sorry. It’s been so long since I've had a night off and I know you wanted to go to that movie last week and I couldn't make it and-” You cut him off with a quick kiss.

“Tim. Relax.” You said firmly with a hint of amusement in your voice. “You were saving 6 hostages from a madman with a thing for hats. I don’t know about you but to me that seems a bit more important then some random movie.” You took the flowers so you could admire them before heading towards the kitchen.

Tim closed the door and followed you. “If it’s important to you then it’s the most important thing in the world.” He said, putting the bear on the counter.

You smiled at him and started filling a vase with water to put the flowers in. “That is the cheesiest thing I think I've ever heard.”

“That was romantic and you know it.” Tim smiled back at you. “And I really am sorry for canceling last week.” You could tell in his voice that he felt guilty.

“And I really do forgive you,” You turned your attention to him. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” His body relaxed and he walked around the counter so he could hug you from behind.

His hands wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulders”How the hell did i get so lucky as to end up with you?” He asked softly. He rocked slightly from side to side as you dropped the roses into the water.

“Oh gross Tim you’re all sweaty!” You exclaimed

“Really? i say that and you’re reaction is ‘Oh gross’. And here I was thinking you loved me.” He said with fake hurt in his voice.

“I’ll love you more if you go take a shower.” You stated, completely unfazed by his guilt tripping attempts.

“Ugh ok,” he sighed lazily while burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“Tim?”

“Yeah?” he murmured in response.

“That means you have to let go.” You tried to break free which only made him hug you tighter.

“Make me.” He started leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck. The soft feeling made your mind go blank for a second and you melted farther into him before pulling yourself out of the daze.

You wriggled out of his grasp and turned around to kiss him before breaking away. “This is really cute and all but you smell like a sewer.”

“Yeah well Bruce said i could only have the night off if i sparred first so i smell like this for you.” He walked backwards toward the bathroom so you were still facing each other.

You shook your head and walked to the living room. “Well then i appreciate your sacrifice.”

He didn’t take long in the shower. You had enough time to grab some blankets for the couch and turn on a Law and Order rerun. The water turned off and about a minute later your boyfriend stepped out.

You didn’t look at him at first, too caught up in the 5 year old fictional court case. He walked over to you and sat down, you leaned back and rested your head on his shoulder. It was then that you actually noticed his lack of shirt. He was a lean sort of fit, not too bulky but not not muscular. You’d seen him shirtless before but the sight still brought a pink tint to your face. You unconsciously let your hands trace his collarbone.

“If you don’t put a shirt on i’m gonna have to kiss you and who knows where things will go from there.” You stated teasingly, pulling yourself out of yet another daze. The doorbell rang interrupting the calmness that had settled over you.

“Are you expecting someone?” Tim asked, turning his head to peer at the door.

“Oh shit, I forgot.” You laughed at yourself and rushed to the door. When you opened it there was a delivery man on the other side holding a bag of chinese food. You thanked and tipped him before closing the door and walked back over to Tim. “I did promise you takeout.” You held up the bag.

After you had dished the food and settled down on the couch you watched the movie. It was nice to be with him again even if you were just watching a movie.

You were nearly asleep, cuddled up next to him on the couch when the end credits started to roll. You stretched and yawned and checked the clock to find out it was already 11:10. It wasn’t necessarily late but it had been a long day for you both. That’s when you decided to ask him the question that had been on your mind since he arrived.

“It’s getting pretty late.” You said standing up to get your dirty dishes.

“Yeah,” Tim followed suit, grabbing his plate and heading towards the kitchen. “I should probably head back now. I don’t want to be out too late, especially not in costume.” He dropped the dishes in the sink.

“Oh right,” you paused “Or maybe... you could stay here tonight.” You suggested. “And tomorrow night… and the night after that?”

“Are-are you asking me to move in?” He questioned a slightly surprised look on his face.

“Well i was just thinking if you lived here then we could see each other a lot more and you wouldn’t have to live in the manor with Bruce but your right it was stupid idea i’m sure they need you there for all kinds of superhero stuff and-” you started rambling before he cut you off.

“I think it’s a great idea!” You were surprised by his response.

“R-really?” You stammered

“Yes really! I’d love to move in with you.”

A/n: i legitimately can’t end a fic to save my life like what kinda half ass ending is that?

#batboys x reader #dc x reader #red robin #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x reader #x reader #writing fanfiction #writing fanfic #dc writers #fan fic stuff #shitty fanfics #fanfic writing #i wrote this at 2am #i wrote some words #3 weeks late #dc characters #haha thanks for checking in #i’m still a piece of garbage

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heauxzenji · 3 years

Note

I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby

#daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kita haikyuu #kita x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #hq headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu hcs #hq headcanon #hq writing #hq scenario #haikyuu x y/n #hq x gn!reader

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Ugly Bastard

(This is a Yandere Milluki Zoldyck x Rabbit Female Darling :))

I’m really sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted, but this is my interpretation of his character, and my interpretation is that he’s considered the ugly bastard and a neckbeard :/ I hope you enjoy this.

TW: Aged up!!, Forced heat!, !technically noncon!, !dubcon!, He’s rlly gross!, daddy kink!, objectification!!, breeding kink!, typical neckbeard behaviour, mate literally doesn’t wash himself (I’m so sorry) or clean his room!, he fucks you while you hold a comfort object, etc..

I don’t normally say this, but please, please proceed with caution! This got really dark and disgusting :/)

Giggling to himself, the short haired man holds a glass vial up to the light, the amber liquid inside sloshing violently. A grotesque smile paints his chubby face, thick fingers holding it so tightly that his knuckles are turning white, “Thank you, Illu-nii! She surely can’t resist me now!”

The oldest Zoldyck looks down at his younger brother with disgust, wondering how exactly he became this way, “Of course… But, if she was giving you so much trouble, why not take her-?”

Milluki shakes his head, holding the vial close to his breast, “No! I can’t do that, are you crazy?” Illumi raises a perfectly shaped brow, unimpressed by his grease ball of a brother, “I’m not the ugly bastard in this story! I’m her handsome prince-”

Illumi tunes him out, rolling his eyes. Of course his brother doesn’t have morals, he just wants you to bow to his every whim.

Although the eldest brother couldn’t critique the younger too much, he still couldn’t shake the overwhelming repugnance he feels towards him.

He’s seen the room you’re trapped in, seen the harsh way Milluki tugs on your ears and tail, seen the- he shivers at the memory of the short haired man forcing you to feed him. The excessive way he chews with his mouth open, trying to get a reaction out of you, makes the tall man’s blood boil. He has no idea how you’re able to keep calm, but he can applaud you for it.

“-So this is my last resort! Thanks to you, Illu-nii, we can now continue to Zoldyck like!” Illumi can’t help but shiver in disgust at the idea of Milluki reproducing.

“Yes, yes, of course. You go do that,” With quick feet, the slim man hurries away, hoping to escape this conversation as quickly as possible.

Glancing at the vial in his hand, Milluki squeals in delight, a gross smile on his greasy face.

Tonight is going to be a night to remember.

Hearing the door open, you immediately look up from your clean spot on the bed. In your arms you hold your stuffed rabbit, cradling it to your black bodysuit clad breast.

Seeing your captor waddling into the room, you jump to your feet to greet him. Putting on a fake happy smile, lifting your ears, and shaking your tail, you start to gush over him, “Daddy, welcome back! I’m so happy to see you!” You hop over empty Mountain Dew Liters filled with piss, wrappers of empty food containers, broken games that disappointed Milluki, and his dirty clothes. You try to clean up, you really do, but Milluki is one of the sloppiest people to ever live.

His ugly face grins at your beautiful form, your pretty face, and cute voice, “What a good bunny, coming to greet her Daddy!” He opens his arms for a hug, making you breathe through your mouth. Landing on his large stomach, you lay your head against his breast, trying your best to block out his grease, musk, and food stains.

This bastard fills you with so much disgust and anger. He tells you that you need to lose weight, dress up pretty, put on a lot of makeup, keep clean, and be well shaven. Yet, here he is, looking like a goddamn catastrophe.

“I missed you so much! Me and Hoppy,” You raise their stuffed animal, “Were waiting for you all day!”

He rubs a sweaty hand over your exposed shoulders, “You’re so cute, Bun. Daddy has a special present for you today,” He uses the hand that once rubbed your shoulders to reach into his pocket, withdrawing a certain amber filled vial, “Be a good girl, and drink this all. You’ll do that for me, right?”

You pull away from him to look at what he’s offering, feeling dread weigh down on your heart, “What is it, Daddy?”

He tuts condescendingly at your question, releasing you from the awkward side hug you were in. His thumb and forefinger grip your chin, a suddenly serious look on his face. Fuck, you forgot that rule, “Bun, you know how Daddy feels when you question him! Good girls don’t question their Daddies, we always know what’s best for them.”

You want to scream ‘no’ at him, but unfortunately, you’d rather not receive a brutal punishment tonight. Nodding your head, you smile up at him, “Okay! I’m sorry for questioning you, Daddy.”

He squeezes your tail, before grabbing your hand, and forcefully placing the vial into it, “Good, Bun Bun! Now, drink this!”

Rolling the warm glass in your hand, you scrunch your nose slightly at the weird smell of the contents inside. But, feeling his warning glare on your figure, you quickly uncap it, and throw it back like a shot.

It tastes horrible!

You can’t help but gag at its vomit esque taste. Covering your mouth with a hand, you stare down at the vial in both shock and disgust. Luckily, you’re able to choke it down, but you’re only barely able to.

“Good Bunny, I’m proud of you,” He runs a moist hand through your hair, making your stomach lurch.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Milluki drags you to his bed, disregarding the trash you have to step on with your bare feet. Once at the bed, he tries to push you onto his side. You don’t allow yourself to fall forward, instead opting for your designated sliver of the bed. No matter what you try, no matter how many times you change your sheets, Milluki’s side always ends up absolutely filthy! His grease, food stains and…… unspecified stains discolour any colour of sheets, even black ones! So, you only stay on your side, trying not to get a skin infection.

He makes a noise of disapproval behind you, but quickly flops down on his side, his arms squeezing your middle tightly. His right hand lays over your tummy, squeezing slightly. Thinking that he was going to critique your looks, you whimper slightly, “I’m sorry, Daddy, am I gaining weight? I can go on another diet-“

“No! No! You’re doing great, Bun! If anything, I think you’ll need to be a little bigger…” He trails off, increasing your nerves. Is that why you’re sweating? It’s suddenly very hot in here.

“Daddy, is the heater on?” You lay your free hand on your forehead, the other gripping Hoppy in an ironclad grip. Are you getting sick? That could be a problem. Your diet since getting here has changed drastically, along with your sleeping pattern, cleanliness or your environment, and your stress level. Hopefully he’ll cast you into a separate room, leaving you to your own devices.

“No, why?” He removed your hand from your forehead, and replaced it with his own. Is this supposed to happen? He isn’t too sure how heats are supposed to happen.

“I-I think I’m getting sick, Daddy. Should I go take a cold bath?”

“No! I mean, uhm, no, that won’t be necessary. Just stay right here,” He tightens his hold even more, you can feel your ribs creak underneath his fingertips.

You say nothing, starting to curl into yourself at the feeling of cramps in your abdomen. Could you be starting your period?

“I think I started my period,” You don’t see him look at you in disgust, but you can feel it.

“Then get up, I don’t want you dirtying the sheets,” You had to stop yourself from laughing. You? Dirtying the sheets? Says the man who has turned them rancid! You set your bunny stuffie on your clean pillow, trying to keep it away from any dirt.

Hurrying to your feet, you move quickly towards the bathroom. Once inside, you flick on the light, showing its pristine condition. He almost never comes in here, leaving it clean.

Unzipping your outfit, you pull your tail out of its hold, and shuck it down your legs. Once bare to the room, you open the toilet seat lid, and sit.

Once done with your business, you wipe, expecting something to be different, but not what you see. The piece of toilet paper is absolutely drenched, and not in what you think.

You slick is practically drenching your entire hand, scaring the shit out of you. What on Earth is happening to you?! And why did the feeling of your wiping feel so good?!

Grabbing baby wipes, you wipe down your pussy and ass, cleaning yourself up as much as possible. You stand up on shaky legs, closing the lid, flushing the toilet, washing your hands, but the pain becomes too much. Tears bead your eyes as your fear and pain take over, causing you to curl into a ball on the marble floor.

A burning feeling of arousal pools in your belly, making the urge to touch yourself grow exponentially. What the hell did Milluki give you? And aphrodisiac? You’ve never had a heat in your life!

Milluki knocks on the door after a long period of silence, the only thing he hears is your crying, “What’s wrong, Bunny? Is everything alright in there?”

You whimper in response, prompting him to open the door. The sight of your naked body made him do a double take. And, upon seeing a growing puddle of arousal around your hips, he can’t help but salivate.

“Is my little one in heat? How precious! Cute little bunnies need their Daddy, and if you ask nicely, I’ll be happy to assist you!” Milluki bends down to grab you, but finds difficulty when his large stomach stops him halfway. Grunting slightly, he crouched down, finally able to grab one of your arms and heft you into his own. Once secure, he stands to his feet, stumbling to your bed.

He tosses you in the middle, much to your disgust, and flips you onto your back. He gazes down at your perfect body, practically salivating at the sight of you.

Your pussy is drooling onto the dirty sheets, cleaning away his dirt in its midst. Perfect teats are pebbled, chest heaving in deep breaths. Your ears hang high above your head, curling slightly, looking adorable. Your little tail above your cute butt looks so nice to pull. A thin sheen of sweat is present on your skin, and as much as he wants to be disgusted, he can’t. You’re just too perfect like this.

“Do you need Daddy’s help? Come on, you need to beg for him,” Your body locks up in revulsion. You don’t want his nasty cock anywhere near you! For all you know, he’ll give you a bacterial infection!

“Nu-no, Daddy. I just-I just need to sleep, I think!” Looking over your shoulder, you see a dark present on his face.

“Are you disgusted by me?” His voice comes out deeper than normal, anger slowly starting to become apparent.

“No! No! Nothing like that, Daddy!” You force your aching body up, crawling towards him. You’re on your knees before him, holding onto his dress shirt pathetically within your pretty hands, “I just-you know I want to wait until we’re married,” You look down in an attempt to be bashful. Telling him that lie at the beginning really saved your ass, but right now, it seems that he’s tired of waiting, “I promise that that’s all! Because what if I get pregnant? I want to ensure my baby is taken care of-“

He grabs your hands, yanking you towards him, your naked chest smashing into his fat. He cups your face with gross hands, gaging your reaction. When all he sees is anxiety, he sighs overdramatically, “There’s no need to worry about all of that. Mama said I can marry you, so we can make a baby now!” His words make you gush with unwanted arousal, the last thing you want is him to fuck you, “See?” He releases your face with one hand, using the other to scoop up some of your arousal, “Why are you stopping yourself? Daddy’s cock is more than sufficient to fill you up.”

Try as you might, the smell of his arousal and your heat clouded mind are starting to drive you wild. He’s the closest fertile male, making your instincts go into overdrive to mate.

A pathetic whine leaves your throat, making him giggle horribly, “Even all teary eyed, you still look so cute. Good thing all of your makeup is water-proof, because if they weren’t, you’d look so ugly right now.”

You’re so aroused, that his words don’t make you furious like you usually would be.

“Now, take out my cock, Bunny. Suck me well, and I’ll breed your pretty pussy well,” In your mind, you don’t want to. You don’t even want to touch him with a ten foot pole. But, instinctually, you’re ready to jump his bones.

With shaking hands, you grab his belt, unlooping it with ease. Sliding it off, you move to his button and fly. Unbuttoning his pants is a bit difficult, due to it barely containing his large body, but you manage. Once done, you move on to his drawers, gross, white stains cover the front of them in a crusty topcoat.

Shivering in disgust, you pull them down, revealing his decent sized cock. Milluki smiles down at you, and grabs your ears in a makeshift ponytail, egging you on.

Deciding not to look to close at his repulsively unwashed cock, you close your eyes, and suck on his precum coated tip. It tastes awful. If you thought that heat inducing elixir was awful, this is 100 times worse.

Withholding your gags, you take him further down your throat, praying you don’t get strep throat. Using your tongue, you rub the vein on the bottom of his shaft. Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck him hard, bobbing your head quickly in the hopes of him finishing.

Gripping your ears even harder, he groans and pants as he bucks into your mouth. Milluki can’t believe it! His waifu is sucking his cock willingly!

That thought has him busting a fat, chunky load down your throat, causing you to almost throw up for real this time. He quickly pulls you off by your ears, looking down at you in awe.

The puddle around your cunt only grew bigger, and your fucked out expression is so endearing!

“Good girl for making Daddy cum! Do you want him to cum in that cunny? To make the hurt go away?” You nod eagerly, making a piggish smirk cross his features, “Beg for me, Bun Bun, beg for me nicely, and I’ll do it.”

You grasp his cloth covered hips in a tight grip, resting your chin on his large stomach, “Please, Daddy! Please make it stop! Please fill me!”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I’m convinced,” Whining at his words, you turn around in his hold, pressing your slick cunt against his already hardening cock. Rubbing lightly, you keen at the pressure.

“Please, Daddy, I’m begging you! Please fuck me!” Milluki can’t hold back anymore, immediately forcing his cock inside your soaked pussy. Screaming in pleasure, you push yourself harder against him, tail tickling the underside of his tummy.

“Shit, you feel amazing,” He bucks his hips into yours hard and fast, not caring about your pleasure, “Don’t you see? This is your purpose; a little Bun like you is meant to be my cock sleeve, my little baby maker.”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only pathetically fucking yourelf into his thrusts. He groans at your tight and wet walls, loving the way your cute, bunny body clings to him.

“Fuck, I��m gonna cum,” He lifts one of your ears to whisper into it, “You want my babies? You want me to cum inside?”

You nod your head rapidly, disregarding the slight pain of his tugging, “Uh-huh, please fill me up, Daddy! Make me your house wife! Make me have your baby!”

Your words send him over the edge. Slamming himself deep inside you, he releases his disgusting cum inside your womb, bloating your tummy slightly.

The large man leans on your smaller form, smushing your face into the dirty sheets. Within moments, the burning feeling and pain is gone, leaving you disturbed and revolted.

“Wha-what do good girls say to their Daddies?” You wanted to throw yourself out of a thirty floor window.

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for giving me a baby,” He pets your head with a moist hand, rolling out and off of you, in favour of lying behind you. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to his soft body.

Milluki falls asleep quickly, allowing you to cry quietly to yourself.

Outside the door, Illumi stands motionless. He can hear your crying, and for the first time in his life, he truly pities someone.

He can only hope his father will reject you as Milluki’s spouse.

Otherwise, you’ll be stuck with the ugly bastard for life.

Requester: @milluki-simp--i-guess

#yandere hxh #yandere milluki #milluki hxh #milluki x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #tw: noncon

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Enough, For Now

CW: Sickfic, sick whumpee, feverish whumpee, shock collar, brief VERY vague emeto reference, child of whumpee POV, intimate/creepy whumper, noncon touching (nonsexual), noncon kiss (brief)

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with their permission.

"Oh, honey."

The little girl watches around the doorframe as her mother lays a soft hand over her father’s forehead. Her mother’s hair is a waterfall of darkness, the air between the trees on a starless night in the woods behind the house. Her father's is more like tree bark in sunlight, when she doesn't need to worry about what might be hiding in the woods, when they are allowed outside and she can run her fingers over the roughened texture and smell the air.

Sometimes, her father’s necklace - the thick black band he wears that her mother uses to hurt him - is changed so they can go into the woods. He carries her little brother, who is still a baby, and she walks alongside him proud to help carry things, and the three of them are alone with the whisper of the woods around them.

She saw a bluebird, once, singing. Her father had smiled, just a little, at the flutter of wings when she got too close and it took flight.

He’s not smiling now.

Her father lays on his side on the bathroom floor, his cheek pressed to the impeccably clean black-and-white tiles. His face is flushed and there’s a thin film of sweat sticking his shirt to the curves of his shoulders and stomach. It makes him shine under the gentle warm light even as he shivers, compulsively. When her mother’s hand touches his head, he tenses, just a little, but he still can’t stop shivering. "Miss S-Savvie-"

“Look at you.” Her mother’s voice is simpering-sweet, syrupy, like the maple syrup that her father pours on pancakes when they are alone in the mornings when her mother is out of the house. “Poor thing. I suppose this is because I took you to that party last week, isn’t it? You must have picked something up while we were there.”

The little girl remembers - a swirl of colorful dresses and jewelry, too many adults in too small a space. Everyone wanted to congratulate her mother on getting out of the house just a few months after Jamie was born. A person with a thin smile, who was impossibly elegant, had said her mother’s dress was lovely in a voice that didn’t seem like they meant it. Then they’d looked down at her, and something in their severity had softened.

They’d asked to take the little girl to play with their own child, who was in her bedroom because grown-up parties are pretty boring.

It had been fun, although she had been nervous to be away from her father so long, leaving him without her in the throngs of people and all the perfumes in the air. He’d been nervous, too, happy to sweep her into his arms at the end of the night and carry her to the car with her head on his shoulder, her mother’s hand at the small of his back.

Like a family.

Now, though, her father is sick, and her mother’s eyes are brilliant and sparkling as she presses two fingers into the space just underneath his ear, just behind his jaw. In a real family, the little girl thinks, maybe the mom doesn’t look happy to see the dad is too sick to move. He makes a sound almost like a whine, barely escaping, and the little girl swallows. Her own heart races to see how hard he works to open his eyes.

“Swollen lymph nodes,” Her mother murmurs. “Jax, did you manage to get the flu from someone? Honestly, sweetie, the first time you’ve gone out with me in two months and you get sick immediately?”

He turns his head to look up at Savvie, and the little girl doesn’t understand it exactly, but she loves the profile of his face because it is her father’s profile, the line of his nose and neck. His hazel eyes are fogged-over and hazy as he moves, and he might nuzzle into her hand, or he might simply hold still and her mother’s hand was already there.

Then he jerks away, just as quickly, and the little girl goes still and her heart stops with fear - he isn’t allowed to pull away, he isn’t allowed to not smile at her touch, he’ll be in so much trouble. Just as her mother’s eyes go wide their sparkle changes to sunlight off the darkest, deepest ice, Jax begins to cough.

The coughs wrack his body, and he barely covers his mouth. By the time it stops, the first hints of anger have fled her mother’s expression and it has softened again. She sighs and rubs at his back, in soothing soft circles. He drops his hands and turns back to her, a slight half-smile playing on his face, gone, back again.

Wavering, like he’s struggling to remember how to make it.

“‘M sorry, Miss… Miss Savvie,” He says, voice rasping and hoarse. “I-I’m not exactly sure… when I started to feel like this, but…”

Two days ago, the little girl knows. For two sleeps straight, her father’s body has been strange - too hot to the touch, and his hugs have been timid, as though he hurt too much inside to hug as fiercely as he usually did.

She knows. And he knows.

They don’t tell her mother.

He’s been on the bathroom floor all night. The little girl had found him there when she woke up - not in the big bathroom, but this smaller one in the hall next to her room - and had run to get her mother in her grand bedroom.

She never ever went in her mother’s room unless she was allowed to or asked, but she’d been so scared when he barely moved at her shaking his shoulder that she had forgotten the rule. He had laid there so pale and listless, collapsed on the cold floor.

For once, Savvie had not been angry. Instead, she had followed the little girl and told her to wait outside. For a few moments, Savvie had held her hand the way her father usually did, and the little girl had felt… like this was her mother.

But then… then she’d seen Jax. As always, in the little girl's life, the second her mother saw her father, the girl herself was forgotten. Her hand was dropped and she was told to stay out. So the little girl is left on the outside looking in, fingers curled around the doorframe, watching them together.

Her mother's pale pink chemise has a white lace trim that lays across her bare thigh, and her rounded nails are a soft deep mauve as she sighs and moves to kneel, touching his face just at his cheekbone, brushing it with the backs of her knuckles. She smiles, sweet and soft and loving. "It's not your fault, Jax. My poor sweet husband."

Jax only looks up at her, his hazel eyes glimmering and barely focused. But he looks only at her.

Even sick, he knows not to look away.

"But... why did you come all the way out here, honey?" Both her hands are on him now, one cupping his face and the other slipping behind his head, to lift it gently off the floor. "Oh, you're so sweaty. Gross.” Savvie's nose wrinkles, a little, and the little girl wonders if her own nose looks like that.

She hopes not.

"Got… Got sick." Her father breathes and it sounds wrong, somehow, too much air or not enough. "Didn't w-want to wake you. You have… an interview today." He coughs again, and Savvie has to let go for him to roll onto his side again and get the awful sounds out.

Savvie's smile widens. Her blue eyes shine so bright. "How thoughtful," She says, and runs her fingers through the damp strands of his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, again and again. It looks like petting an animal, not trying to be kind to a man.

If he likes the touch or not, she can't tell. She thinks sometimes he hates every single one.

“Thought I’d feel b-better afterward,” He says, rough-voiced, eyes closed tightly. “Don’t.”

"Oh, sweetie." Savvie smiles and leans down, presses a kiss to his hair. He holds perfectly still for it. He doesn't even breathe. "I don't deserve you," She whispers, just loud enough for the little girl to hear. "But I'll love you forever anyway. Forever, Jax.”

His eyes open again, turning to look over her face as she pulls away, as though he’s checking for something, searching there. Whatever he finds, he relaxes, just a little. "Love you too, Miss Savvie," He says, and the little girl hears that it is flat, compared to how sometimes he hugs the little girl and says nice things to her. "Need… I just need a minute."

“Of course, darling. We’ll move you downstairs once you think you can walk.” Savvie keeps her fingers moving through his hair, sweaty or not.

His gaze shifts a little, and he sees the little girl for the first time. He tenses, eyes widening only slightly. "Is-..." He clears his throat. Both of them freeze at how close he comes to the nickname neither of them wants her to know. "Isabella? Why are you-"

"She woke me up," Savvie says, and slides to her knees, slipping her arms around him and carefully helping him to sit up. He leans heavily against her, so heavily Savvie nearly loses her balance, but she manages not to land in an undignified heap. “She saw you and came to get me. She knew you needed my help.”

The girl would have gone to anyone else, if there were anyone. But they’re here alone, and she isn’t allowed to touch the medicine.

One day, when she’s big enough, she will get him medicine all by herself and she won’t tell her mom anything at all.

“Thank-... thank you, Isabella,” Her father says, in this new sick-voice he has, and when he looks at her, for just a second some of the haze in his eyes is clear. He’s looking at her. It’s only for a second, before he turns back to her mother, and the little girl stores up the way he looked right at her, to save for later times when she is alone. He turns back to Savvie and says, “And th-thank you for coming, Miss Savvie.”

“Of course, sweetie.” Savvie shifts, and the little girl watches as the two of them very slowly stand, Jax working to get his legs under him, standing finally in a way that seems tentative, ready to tip back over at the slightest nudge. His eyes close and his face greys, and the three of them are briefly silent, waiting it out, until the dizziness passes and his eyes open again. “You’re right, though. I do have that interview, and I can’t just be thinking about you, I need to plan… let’s get you downstairs for today. I’ll bring James down once you’re settled.”

There’s a pause, full of meaning and thought the girl doesn’t know how yet to read. “Can… can H-Hannah come to watch them with m-me, or Isaac’s steward, please?” He rarely speaks so many words all at once, unless they’re alone in the sunshine room, where he tells her all the stories about his own family, far far away across an ocean.

Those are the secret stories, the ones that the little girl knows to never let her mother know she’d heard of.

He’s not supposed to think about his other family anymore. Her mother says that she made that rule so he wouldn’t leave the little girl and her brother. He never wanted you, anyway. If I told him he could, he’d walk right out the door and leave us all heartbroken, Isabella. So we have to make sure he never thinks of them, so he can’t leave us.

The little girl is scared that her father might leave, if he could. That her mother’s words are true. But she loves the way he smiles when he tells his stories much, much more than she is scared - and he has promised her, over and over with his arms around her, that he would never leave her here alone.

Now, though, Savvie just rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Jax. How is my uncle’s household supposed to stay in order if you keep trying to steal away half his staff?”

They’re near the door and the girl backs away quickly to stay out of their way, not quite ignored but not needed, either. She watches them move, her mother’s arm around her father’s waist to help him stay upright, and the way he moves so carefully, so slowly, beside her.

The medicine is in the cabinet in the bathroom, but her mother doesn’t go back for it. Instead, she leads Jax away entirely, towards the grand curving staircase that moves down to the ground floor. The little girl watches, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before she realizes what’s happening.

An interview day.

That means her father will spend the day in the basement where no one can hear him - that must be where her mother is taking him, to be hidden away. The little girl licks nervously at her lips, and then flies back into the bathroom. There isn’t anything she can stand on in here, but when she climbs up on the side of the bathtub, she can grab the sink and hold, arms shaking with effort as she pulls herself up.

The cabinet opens for her easily, as she totters, barely balanced on the rounded, shining edge of the sink. Their voices are fading as they move downstairs, her mother’s voice mostly.

Almost entirely.

The little girl finds what she’s looking for - the last time her father was sick, he was allowed a packet of these little discs that come inside a box. The girl can’t read, but she knows the sun and moon signs on the packages, one for day and one for night. She grabs the whole thing, and then looks down, ready to climb-

Oh.

Oh, it’s farther down than she thought.

Her heart shivers in fear - but sometimes you have to do scary things, her father says it all the time when he tells her he is proud of her after her mother locks her in the dark for time out. This is a scary thing, but-

She jumps.

She crashes hard into the tile floor and lets out a high-pitched cry of pain, rolling along the ground. A bright ache flashes in her knee and arm from how she landed, and she presses her lips together to silence any further sounds. They’re swallowed into whimpers that don’t make it further than the door.

Still, she hears her father call, “Isabella?” He’s worried, he heard her, and the little girl stands back up, clutching the box of medicine with white knuckles on her small hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay!” She calls back, voice shaky, but she tries to sound fine. It will be much worse for her if her mother thinks she wants attention she’s not supposed to have.

“See? She’s fine,” Savvie says, and their steps fade again. The little girl moves with a focus rarely seen in small children to her room, where she picks up a soft little-kid backpack that is pink and lacey. Her mother picked it. She hates it. In the backpack she stashes some crackers and juice, and on top she puts her favorite stuffed animal, and some crayons. Finally, she forces in a coloring book. Then she moves out into the hall.

Her brother isn’t awake yet, no sound from his room, so she moves like a ghost down the staircase, following her parents to the closet with the hidden door. The door is already open, the wooden steps leading down and down and down. It’s scary, to take each step with the single light leaving so many shadows around, shadows that could have monsters hiding in them.

But sometimes, you have to do scary things.

She sets her jaw and lets her chin jut out, raised a little, and makes her slow and careful way down into the chilly basement, where the secret house is. The little place that her father has to hide, when people who aren’t ‘the right people’ come over, so that the ‘wrong people’ won’t know he’s here.

Her mother is already laying her father down in the little bedroom at the back of the basement place. It's so dark it feels like nighttime in there. She can hear them speaking, but not their words, and she tries to be very good and sits very quietly on the couch, out in what looks like a tiny little living room with a television in it, to wait.

"Thank you, Miss Savvie," She hears, low and rough. "I l-love you, Miss Savvie."

The little girl winces, gripping the little brightly colored cardboard box with sweaty fingers that start to dampen the ink. Love is a wrong word. It's a word of threats and anger, of making things better by being good.

Her mother's voice is low, and soft, heavy with something the little girl is too young to know. "I love you, too, sweetie. Feel better."

There's silence.

The seconds draw out, and every single one of them is awful.

Then, her mother murmurs, "I suppose we should stop. I'd hate for me to get sick, too. I'll bring James down once he's up and it'll be just you and the kids. That'll be restful."

He hums, and the silence draws out again, and then she sweeps past the little girl and away without even looking at her. Up the steps, up and up, and the little girl knows they are locked up down here, like always.

Once her mother is for real gone, the little girl moves, silent as any ghost, down the hall herself, leaving her backpack on the couch. In the bedroom her father lays on his side, coughing a little, mostly just shakes of his shoulders. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and coughs again. The room is all dark except for the light in the hallway that frames her when he catches the motion of her shadow and looks up.

He manages a slight, faint smile. "Izzy. Did you follow us?”

“Yes.” Izzy’s voice is soft and grave. “I didn’t want her to need to bring me and get mad.”

He closes his eyes, just for a second, and nods. “I get it. What've you got there?"

She moves up to the bed and shoves the box into one of his hands. The sweat from her hands has buckled the thin cardboard but the packages inside are still good. "Medicine for your sick."

He stares down at the box, blinking. "Alka-Seltzer Severe Flu," he reads, and then meets her eyes. Theirs nearly match - hazel brown for both. “Izzy, honey, you’re not allowed-” The next round of coughing hits and Izzy scrambles up onto the bed, pulling herself up and moving around behind him, rubbing at his back with her hand like he does when it’s her that’s sick. Her mother’s hands move in circles, like the snake’s eyes in The Jungle Book movie, but her father is a straight line down, lifts up, starts at her shoulder blades and down again.

Izzy presses her lips together in concentration and comforts him just the same way. She whispers, “It’s okay, Daddy, you can cough down here, it’s okay.”

There are tears running out of his eyes when he is finally able to stop, and he’s closed his hand so tightly on the box he crushed it in the middle. He jerks in a breath, then another, and gradually the tremors through his body fade. She keeps rubbing his back. “The-... sound. Was that… was that you getting the medicine?”

She licks at her lips, and whispers, “I’m sorry. You’re sick. I didn’t know what, um, what to do-”

“It’s okay. Hey, I’m not mad. I’m not. C’mere.” He rolls onto his back and holds one arm out in invitation, and she snuggles up to his side, skin burning hot through his clothes but still her father, through and through. “I’m not mad. You’re…” He coughs but this round is short and doesn’t seem to hurt him so much. “You’re a good kid, Iz. D’you know that? Not just a good kid, you’re a good fu-, uh… A good person, too.”

Izzy, who is told every day by her mother that she is not a good child, holds onto these soft loving words and buries them inside herself, a barrier against her mother’s sweet-voiced violence.

“I’ve got you, Daddy,” She says, an unconscious echo of his reassurances to her. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, okay? You just lay down and do rest.”

He doesn’t answer. His chest moves, inhaling like he wants to speak, but then he only breathes out again and turns his head to kiss her over her curly brown hair.

In a minute, she’ll get up and get him a water cup, and watch with him as the little discs fizz and turn to nothing and make sure he drinks every single bit to feel better. Her mother will bring James down, and Izzy will be the best big sister and her father’s helper and keep Jamie quiet and happy while Jax sleeps, and feels bad for having to sleep, and then sleeps some more.

But for now, in the silence and chill of the little space in the basement where Savvie hides them when other people come who might take her father away from her, Izzy holds on to his shirt and his arm is tight around her shoulders.

If a tear soaks into her hair where his cheek rests on her scalp, she doesn’t notice.

All she knows is his heartbeat, against her ear, and the steady certainty of his love for her, and her love for him. In a house where they have nothing else, that’s enough.

For her, anyway.

For now.

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

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szivtalan · 3 years

Text

love is in the words unspoken

all these moments are golden,

forever is mine with you

the blossoming of the cherry trees always puts hawks in a strange mood. he thinks they’re romantic, magical - reminds him of a time when he was more naive, more dreamy, didn’t know much about the world. it’s nostalgic, to see the carpet of sakura petals on the streets, reminding him of what is and what could’ve been.

‘hawks!’

it’s ironic that he runs into endeavor’s child just as the flowers begin to fall.

‘hey, it’s todoroki.’ he grins, glancing at the two heroes behind the one already rushing up to him: deku and dynamight. ah yes, the three musketeers, as they call themselves. it’s nice to see the top three teaming up that way. ‘where’s the honorific though, kiddo? i’m still much older than you.’

‘not that much.’ shoto replies, and it feels like a shot to the heart. that’s right... they’re both in their twenties now. ‘and i figured i’d drop the honorifics now that i’m above you on the hero ranking list.’

the tilt of his head would be adorable if he weren’t such an asshole. tokoyami was right when he said that his youngest was different than endeavor - hawks only wished to see such a playful side of him.

‘the disrespect.’ hawks laughs, slapping shoto on the shoulder. he hits harder than what would be necessary, but the boy doesn’t even bat an eye. sturdy. and tall. holy shit, is he taller than hawks now? ‘anyway, i really don’t mind. are you guys patrolling around here?’

‘GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE HALF-AND-HALF, BEFORE I GO THERE AND BEAT IT!’ one youngster yells at them.

‘kacchan, don’t be so rude! he’s talking to hawks-san!’

‘friendly bunch.’ hawks snorts, and shoto just shakes his head with a smile.

‘they’re the best. i’m just trying to catch up.’ he admits, sounding sincere.

‘DON’T IGNORE ME, FUCKFACE!’

‘what are you doing around here anyway?’ shoto asks. ‘isn’t your office in a different city?’

‘yeah, i just came here to stretch my wings, take a walk.’ hawks says, ruffling his feathers a little for emphasis.

‘are you walking on your wings?’

‘n-no...?’

‘then how-’

‘WRAP IT UP NOW!’ at dynamight’s next shout, shoto visibly flinches. he seems more irritated than scared, at least to hawks.

‘i just wanted to thank you for helping my dad all those years ago.’ shoto says then, bowing his head a little. hawks takes it back, he doesn’t have an ounce of disrespect in his body. he’s just a little warped in the social area, and hawks has a fairly good guess where he gets that from. ‘i’ll be going now.’

‘wait, ah- how, how’s the old man?’ hawks tries to aim for anything but desperate. ‘i haven’t heard from him since the retirement.’

shoto looks at him thoughtfully, and those dual-colored eyes make hawks immeasurably nervous. he feels like he’s staring into his soul, opening up the secrets he’s got locked inside.

‘he’s well. i go home on weekends.’ shoto says, pulling up a notebook and a pen. ‘here’s the address. i think he’d appreciate the visit.’

the road to the todoroki estate was the most tiring one hawks had taken in a while. it’s not like it was far from where they met with shoto, but he spent the entire time worrying if he’s dressed well for the occasion, if he should just walk instead of flying to not get gross and sweaty - if endeavor will even let him in, or he’ll just pass by and get told off.

the house is huge, traditional, designed in classic enji taste. hawks could see the roof from a street away, almost walks into a lamppost while staring, his heart picking up the speed both from the scare and the nerves. his feet feel heavier with every step, walking down the street, finally getting to the gate-

and seeing todoroki enji, former number one hero, the feared endeavor sweep the walkway to his door, the scene way too casual to not send an already spring-up hawks into hysterics.

‘what the hell is that?’ hawks spits, laughter erupting from deep in his belly. the look on endeavor’s face just makes him shriek louder, his abs clenching with it. ‘is that- a fucking broom for ants, endeavor, you look so funny-’

‘can’t a man just do his chores in peace?!’ endeavor’s yelling now; sparks fly on his heated skin, and then they burst into flames.

‘now that’s the endeavor-san i know and love.’ he laughs, holding onto his own stomach, wiping his tears. endeavor’s face appears red under all that fire, he walks up to the gate to let him in.

‘what are you doing here, anyway?’ he mumbles, extinguishing himself as hawks walked in. he holds his broom under his armpit rather awkwardly, with the gracelessness of a man not quite used to doing the cleaning. hawks looks at him, observes: the slouch in his shoulders, the specks of grey in his stubble, the blush high on his cheek, the early wrinkles. he smiles to himself, reasons unknown, buried deep in a secluded part of his heart.

‘ran into your kid downtown, he said i should drop by and say hello.’ hawks lifts the nylon bags he’s been carrying, offers a lopsided grin. ‘i brought takeout.’

‘hmpft.’ endeavor is elaborate, as always. a man of few words and plenty actions, something hawks has always admired in him. ‘you can stay. only for the food.’

‘so you’re still very much hopeless in the kitchen, eh?’

‘don’t make me change my mind, brat!’

the house is huge on the inside, at least five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a big kitchen and dining room, and one living room all fit into one floor. all of it echoes from their steps, empty and lonely.

‘your boy said that he’s visiting you on weekend.’ hawks pries, shrugging his coat off as he hands over the bag. his fingers brush against endeavor’s fight-hardened, calloused ones and his heart feels like it could jump out of his chest again.

‘whenever he has the time. shoto’s a busy man.’ endeavor nods, his voice dripping with pride. hawks doesn’t need him to say any more to know how fond he is of his son. it makes him smile, actually. ‘why?’

‘and the rest of your family?’ he asks, a little more cautious.

‘i see rei and natsuo on holidays, and fuyumi usually spends her school breaks here.’ enji sets down the bag at the low table, grabs a pair of chopsticks from the dish rack. there are plates piled high there: it seems like he can clean up after himself, but refuses to put things away. hawks figures it’s pretty comfortable, considers that for a second before he realizes how much he can see into endeavor’s private life.

they sit down at the same time, and their eyes meet. ‘i’m not lonely.’ enji immediately turns defensive. there’s probably pity or sadness in hawks’ eyes, he wasn’t paying attention to his expression for a second.

‘i wasn’t suggesting you were.’

‘being alone is something i deserve. so i take my punishment with pride and strength.’ enji squares his shoulder, sitting up impossibly straight at his uncomfortable seat. he takes the boxes out, scatters them across the table for them to reach. no plates, though. ‘itadakimasu.’

they eat mostly in silence, warm, comfortable, and hawks can’t take his eyes off him. endeavor looks so casual, so approachable like this. he looks soft, in the slightly frayed sweatpants, a little weary from use, and the soft cotton shirt hugging his bulging muscles, stretching across his enormous shoulders. his face is a little thin, the wrinkles obvious on its unharmed half. from this close, hawks can see the grey hairs on his temple, too.

‘i’m looking for a place to stay.’ hawks announces once they’re finished eating. the look of surprise and something else - hope? no, it can’t be... - flashing across endeavor’s face startles him, but he’s not about to back down, now. ‘what-... ugh, how much do you think you’d rent out a room for?’

‘what?’ endeavor appears shell-shocked. ‘wh- why?’

‘well, because my apartment building is remodeling, and i’m pretty sick of living in the busier side of the city anyway. figured i’d change it up, move into the suburbs-’

‘that’s not what i’m asking.’ he snaps. ‘why me? don’t you have friends who’d let you stay with them?’

‘not anyone i’d like to move in with.’ hawks shrugs, playing with a few leftover grains of rice. ‘you know, i can cook, and i’m also willing to dry off and put away your damn dishes.’

‘hawks...’

‘c’mon, we can have sleepovers! i can braid your hair and you can braid mine. it will be fun!’

‘i can’t let you do that, hawks.’

‘okay, yes, i admit, your mane’s a little short for a proper french braid, but i can make do-’

‘hawks.’ enji’s voice booms. ‘no.’

‘you’ve known me for almost a decade, old man.’ hawks is talking back, suddenly fired up. ‘why won’t you just let me take care of you?’

‘because i’m a perfectly capable person who doesn’t need anyone to take care of them.’ he huffs, steam seeping from his nose. ‘and because i can’t let you do that to yourself.’

‘what, enji?’ he’s loud. is he shouting? he can’t tell.

‘waste your time on a bitter old man who isn’t worthy of you.’

now they’re pulling up the big guns. hawks deflates, props his head up on his elbows.

‘retired, but still on your self-deprecating bullshit.’ he sighs. ‘will you take it to the grave?’

‘hawks, i’m serious-’

‘and i’ve been serious, too. my entire life, about my feelings for you. you kept shaking me off, saying it wasn’t appropriate for someone your age dating someone so young, saying you were married, but all this time, i kept getting refused because you hate yourself too much to allow yourself to be loved?’

hawks doesn’t know when he stood up, but he’s falling to his knees beside enji now.

‘what kind of an asshole does that...?’ he whispers, staring right into enji’s fearful eyes.

‘an asshole who cares about you.’ enji murmurs, letting hawks hit him in the chest.

‘this isn’t “caring” about someone! this is just lying to yourself and keeping yourself from being happy!’ his fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

‘keigo-’ enji hisses, losing his balance and gripping the edge of the table so he doesn’t fall against the other man.

‘tell me no.’ hawks proposes, his free hand coming up to cradle his jaw, so prickly and manly and strong, the shudder that ripples through him from the gentle touch, making him so weak and vulnerable. ‘no more running away, enji, no more games. tell me no right now, and i won’t ever bother you again.’

endeavor furrows his brows, the skin around his scar pulling grotesquely over his face with the struggle. he takes a deep breath, and hawks gets goosebumps as the hot air from the exhale hits his skin.

‘i can’t...’ enji whispers, and hawks can barely hear over the sound of his heart shattering. he starts to let go, but he forgets to breathe and move altogether as enji leans in instead, hand coming up to hold him close by the back of his head. ‘i can’t say no, not anymore...’

the first touch of lips against his have his insides flutter, almost working him into a panicked frenzy. he can only hope that enji can’t feel his heart beating in his throat as he kisses him, deep and desperate and oh so careful. hawks clings into him, lets him chase him for a change, holds on for the ride.

when they separate, hawks feels dizzy, drunk with heat and pleasure. enji looks just about as much present, he seems dumbfounded.

‘well, uh.’ he says, and hawks would kick anyone who says he doesn’t have a way with words.

‘i can come on thursdays and fridays.’ he offers, for now. ‘that way your kids can still have you on weekends.’

‘thanks.’ that’s all endeavor says before he pushes a few stray strands of hair back from hawks’ face, leans in for another kiss.

it’s a date, then.

#bnha #endhawks #anime #enho #todoroki enji #takami keigo #todoroki shouto #vmine #fluff #future fic #oh look at me not respecting my art and writing in a tumblr post again #oh but well i worked on it all afternoon so enjoy?#tododekubaku #if u squint lol #bakugo katsuki #midoriya izuku

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lunarkittens · 3 years

Text

now you’re on your own (won’t you come back home?) (1/?)

Word Count: 2,760 (In this part)

Rating: T

Pairings: Gen

Summary: Dean doesn’t believe in fate. But it is a strange coincidence that the one time Dean is ever in California, pointedly trying not to think about his little brother hours away in Palo Alto, he gets a voicemail saying Sam’s in the hospital. Pre-Series.

Dean doesn’t believe in fate. He can believe in a lot of other things, sure. Ghosts, ghouls, demons. Those are things he’s seen, things he can’t deny because they’ve been right before his eyes, have even tried to kill him a few times, but fate? Destiny? Give him a break. If any part of Dean’s life has been fate, he’s gonna need to talk to the guy in charge and maybe knock a couple of his teeth out, the fucking asshole. How’s that for fate?

But it is a strange coincidence that the one time Dean is ever in California, pointedly trying not to think about his little brother who’s hours away in Palo Alto, he gets a voicemail from Sam.

The mere shock of seeing his name on his phone makes him blink hard, like he must be imagining it, but he closes his eyes and opens them and pinches himself and it’s still there, still says Sam on the screen, still says he left a voicemail and all of a sudden Dean feels sick, his heart rate skyrocketing into the triple digits easily. He considers ignoring it. Sam left, after all. Looked Dean right in his eyes and still left, slamming the door behind him, like Dean never meant anything to him at all. Screw Sam.

But this? Two years into it?

Sam wouldn’t call him unless it was an emergency. The voicemail is from half an hour earlier, when Dean had been wiping sweat off his brow with his sleeve while a fire roared in a dug grave. Bye bye, bitch, he’d muttered, lingering a bit longer than he normally would. So this is California, he thought. He closed his eyes and felt the night air. Closed his eyes and wondered if he could maybe feel Sam somehow, his energy distinct in this great expanse of a state that crawled down so much of the West Coast. He came up empty, no energy, no little brother, and got in the car.

He didn’t want a motel, he wanted to gun it out of Cali ASAP and get the hell away from redwood trees and mountains and dry heat before he did something crazy like show up at Sam’s dorm or start crying. As far as he was concerned, California had stolen Sam from him.

There was no wanting to see the sights after that.

And then he’d gotten back in the car and seen the voicemail. Shakily, Dean presses play.

“Hey Dean.” Sam says. Dean shifts in his seat, ready to focus, to absorb. It’s been two years since he’s heard this voice, heard it say his name. However angry he still is, however sad, he wants to savor it.

Sam says his name the same way he always has, the exact same intonation, but he’s sighing it this time. “I don’t know if....Hell, I don’t even know if you care, or if you’ll even listen to this...and you don’t have to call me back, but well...You used to get pissed if I didn’t tell you stuff like this, so here goes. I’m at the hospital.”

Dean tenses, fists gripping the steering wheel tightly. “They’re gonna have to remove my appendix. I was really sick all day and my friend rushed me here. I’m fine,” Sam rushes to say.

“But I just thought...I don’t know why I called. Be safe out there, okay? I know you know what you’re doing, but just- God. Stay alive, okay?” And then there’s a silence that hangs in the air, just waiting to be filled before Dean hears Sam sigh and the voicemail ends.

Okay, fine. Palo Alto, it is. Dean puts the car in drive and intends to fully ignore the speed limit the whole way there, letting Led Zeppelin keep him awake.

When he gets there, and fuck it took a while. Why is California so fucking big? What if he had been on the East Coast? He calls three hospitals and finds the one Sam’s at, pulling into the parking lot and going inside.

It’s weird, when the receptionist asks his name and there’s nothing fake this time, no fake ID to pull out, nothing to lie about. He’s just...just himself. Dean Winchester, here to visit his brother.

“He finished surgery earlier.” The lady says to him.

“I’ll go ask the doctor if you can see him, but I’m sure he’s unconscious.”

“That’s fine,” Dean says. “It’s just kind of my job to look out for the kid, you know?”

Dean doesn’t know what it is, but something in his voice makes the lady look at him more intensely than she had a minute ago.

“Yeah,” she says, voice full of a meaning Dean can’t understand, the way that sometimes happens with strangers. “I do.”

She comes back a few minutes later while Dean sits in a rickety waiting room chair made of wood and she tells him where to go to find Sam. He wonders what friend of his took him here, can’t help but think that it should have been him instead. Him taking care of his brother, and no one else. Where is this friend of his, anyway? Who dumps someone at the hospital and doesn’t still around?

Dean distantly remembers as he makes his way to Sam that Christmas is soon. College kids go on break, leave for the holidays and come back after. He’ll have to ask Sam about it, if he’s been all alone. He won’t ask Sam to come back, already knows how that’ll go.

It doesn’t stop him from wishing for it.

Dean gets some of the worst coffee he’s ever had and pairs it with a plastic wrapped sandwich and some chocolate chip cookies from a vending machine he sees on his way to the room. Odds are Sam is gonna be unconscious for a while and Dean might as well have something in his stomach while he waits for Sam to wake up.

The doctor is around, greets Dean, says Sam is gonna be just fine, just needs to rest undisturbed, spend some time recovering at home. Says if Sam had gotten there any later, his appendix would have burst. The thought makes Dean shudder.

Sam looks young. 20 but to Dean he’ll always look 15. His hair is still long, his face serene in sleep from pain medication, and as much as it hurts to admit, he doesn’t look like a hunter at all. His features are too soft, not angry or hardened enough. It’s all Dean can do to not reach a hand out to stroke Sam��s hair, caress his forehead. That’s his Sammy. He thinks back to the voicemail, back to Sam saying, I don’t even know if you care. Of fucking course, Dean cared. How could Sam even think that? It was Sam who’d left-

And then his father’s voice, hard and absolute, comes booming through his head like a crack of thunder.

“If you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back,” And Sam’s eyebrows furrowing, as if he’s holding back tears, and Sam’s look at dean, it hadn’t been angry after all, now that he thinks about it, it had been- Oh, Sammy. Never.

Never.

Dean hangs his head and leans forward. He can’t tell in this hospital gown, but Sam looks okay. A bit skinny, hair a little too long, but hey. That’s Sam. At least California hasn’t changed him that much. He’s got a nice tan about him, a glow that looks sallow in the hospital lighting but Dean knows would look glorious in the sunlight.

Dean falls asleep in the hospital chair an hour into it, stomach full and head at an angle that’s gonna pinch later, but he had a long drive and Sam is here right where he can see him and that’s more than Dean’s had in a long time, and some restless part of him that never lets itself lay down and sleep is actually at peace for once, so he closes his eyes.

He tries not to think of Sammy all sweaty and shaky, sick and pale and clutching his abdomen, and then it hadn’t even been Dean who was there for him.

Dean wouldn’t have even know about this, not ever, not if Sam hadn’t decided to call, and why did he? Dean intends on finding that out when Sam wakes up. Why now?

Did Sam ever miss him? He sure missed Sam, when he’d let himself admit it. There are ghosts like the ones he sees every day, but there’s another kind of ghost too. Ones that are entirely human and still alive but haunt him all the same, and Sam’s been one of them ever since he left.

And there’s no bones to burn, nothing to salt or destroy, just Sam with him every step of the way, just haunting him all the way from California.

Sam wakes up not long after Dean does, groaning and blinking hard, squinting as his eyes adjust to the light, rubbing them. Dean almost laughs, the familiarity of the expressions. Sam’s woken up the same way his entire life, and Dean tries to get rid of his smile. he’d almost forgotten how awkward this was gonna be, having to interact with each other. Dean had gotten used to seeing Sam, had been sitting here for a while, but Sam was probably still stuck in yesterday, hadn’t expected Dean to even care, if his voicemail was anything go by, let alone be sitting next to him.

Sam looks around and when his eyes fall on Dean, he startles, hand on his chest.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You scared the hell outta me,” he says, and Dean laughs.

“It’s not funny.” Sam says. “I thought you were a ghost or something.” Dean puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder with careful pressure.

“Not dead yet, Sammy. got a few years left in me.”

“You got more than that,” Sam says, stretching in bed and wincing slightly.

“And what about you?” Dean says. “Your appendix just decide to go AWOL?”

“Ugh,” Sam groans. “Dude, yeah. I was doing some reading, trying to get ahead for next semester, you know? And then I just felt this...pressure, on my side. Whatever, I just ignored it for a while. Then I started throwing up, and I just couldn’t stop.”

“Dude, gross!” Dean says, making a face to offset how bad he feels for Sam. Sam smiles at him, and they’re silent.

“How’d you get here?” Dean asks after a minute.

“My buddy Kyle hadn’t left the dorms yet so I called him and he dropped me off. It’s a lot cheaper than an ambulance.” Dean nods.

“And where’s Kyle at now?”

“Home. Everybody’s gone home for break. Believe it or not, it’s almost Christmas.” Sam says, smiling and shaking his head, mostly to himself.

“I know it doesn’t look like it, though.” Sam says, and yeah, no white Christmases here, that’s for sure.

“Where the hell are you staying?” Dean asks. Sam shrugs.

“Same place I did last year,” he says. “Pay extra to stay over break. I’m not the only one there. There’s a lot of international students who can’t get home.”

“Who’s gonna take care of you?”

“I am,” Sam says. “It’ll be fine. It’s pretty basic stuff. I am an adult, you know.”

“Sam, cmon.” Dean scoffs.

“What?” Sam says, defensive.

“We’re not doin that, okay? You just got surgery. You’re not gonna be by yourself.”

“Well, who else is gonna take care of me?” Sam asks. Really? Dean wants to ask. Is he really asking that?

“Really, Sam?”

“No, tell me. What- You’re just gonna put off hunting for a month and nurse me back to health?” Dean swallows hard.

“What if I did? Huh? What if I came down here just so I could do that?” Dean holds his gaze defiantly, jaw clenched, and Sam raises his eyebrows. He deflates, catching Dean off guard. It makes him raise his eyebrows.

“Dean, come on.” Sam says gently. “You can’t do that. There’s people out there who need you.”

“That’s really rich, Sam.” Dean bites out.

“That’s really rich coming from you. Just shut up, okay? You’re damn right people need me. One of them just so happens to be sitting in this room, and he just got a piece of his body cut out of him a few hours ago. I’m needed here.”

“Dean-”

“No, Sam! Okay?” Dean says, standing up now.

“Come on...Tell me. If you don’t want my help, say it. Tell me there’s not a part of you that wants me to stay and wants me to take care of you like before.” Dean swallows hard against a growing tightness in his throat, a burning in his eyes. He stares at Sam with a focus and intensity that could start fires.

“If you tell me that you don’t want me here, I’ll get right back in the car and leave. You won’t ever have to hear from me again. But you have to say it.”

Sam’s eyes are wet. He’s losing the same battle Dean is fighting right now.

“I’m not gonna say it,” Sam says softly. “You’re not gonna hear it. Not from me. I can’t...”

“I mean, you- You left us, Sammy,” Dean says more gently, more open and devastated than he ever wanted sam to hear him sound. He sits down now, posture nonthreatening.

“I mean, how am I supposed to-“

“Dean,” Sam says, firm enough to cut Dean off but not angry, not enough to start a fight. “You don’t understand.”

“I think I understand just fine-“

“No, Dean. I’m not gonna let Dad do this to us anymore! Do you see what’s happening? No more misunderstandings. I left him. I never wanted- I didn’t want to leave you. But then Dad said I couldn’t come back, and you didn’t say any different, and I thought you didn’t want me around anymore either, so I never called, never texted. I didn’t expect you to come, okay? I thought you’d delete the voicemail without even listening to it.”

“I thought you’d washed your hands of me, Dean. I was alone.” Sam scoffs.

“I mean, really alone. I used to always have you. If I didn’t have anything else, I knew I had you. And then I didn’t. So don’t say that- Don’t act like I ran out on you. I wanted to take you with me.”

Dean turns that over in his mind, can’t believe it’s true. It’s too much, gives him too much hope. He knows all too well about the dangers of hope. It’s too heartbreaking and amazing in equal measure. He thinks about going back in time and leaving with Sam, working a job and sharing an apartment with him in California, drinking cold beer on the beach and quizzing sam before tests, eating ice cream and going on summer road trips.

“Sam,” he says, pushing away those thoughts. “You know I would never leave Dad.” Sam nods, a tear falling onto the sheets.

“I know.” He sounds defeated.

“And you also know,” Dean begins. “That I’d never abandon you either. I got the voicemail and I-” Dean scoffs. “I must have broken every traffic law out there trying to get here in time, and- and you’re staying with me, got it?” he says, pointing a finger at Sam.

“We’ll find a place for the month and get you better. You gave up your right to argue when you started crying all over your little hospital dress.”

“Asshole,” Sam snorts. “Now I really don’t want you to take care of me,” he jokes.

“Too bad! It’s gonna be Nurse Dean all month long, surgery boy.” Sam lets out a little laugh, and Dean relaxes a little bit.

“Dean,” Sam says, serious again. “A month. How are we gonna pay for a month? And dad- How are you gonna explain this to dad?”

“Dad doesn’t bother me much about hunts.” Dean shrugs. It’s the truth.

“He just calls, asks if I finished ‘em. Always tell him I did because I do. He’s not gonna press me for details. And payment, well. I know a guy who’s got us covered.”

Before Sam can even open his mouth to ask, Dean’s pulling out a fake credit card and showing it in all its shiny and fraudulent glory.

“Burt Maximoff is a very generous man.” Dean says, grinning. Sam snorts again, shaking his head, but he’s smiling fondly all the same.

A month.

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #long post #sorry i don’t have a new ao3 acc to post on yet so it’s on here...LMAO #i have more parts the second one is almost done i haven’t finished it yet though :’) but i will #i love sick!fic...#it’s 100% gen too! so no worries #this is set when sam is 20 and dean is 24!! so two years before the show starts #i hope everything makes sense i wrote this in my notes app and i cant reread it anymore i cant see #come back home fic

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

Text

God Damn Smile | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: Fluff :)

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Edmund reconnects with his childhood best friend, and it makes old, forgotten feelings resurface.

Request: Hey! Can you write an Edmund x reader based on “A Typical Teenage Love Song” by Tate McRae? It’s fine if you can’t. Tsym in advance!

A/N: This song is so cute :D Ahhh, I love this imagine!!! I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! Thanks for the request :)

masterlist | read on ao3

“No! Don’t step on him!” Five year old Y/N L/N yelled at her friend, Edmund Pevensie. He had his foot raised above a small garden snail, right in the middle of a game of Godzilla. The pair were currently in Y/N’s back garden, playing amongst all the plants. Both children were dressed in brightly colored rain boots and their play clothes to enjoy the rainy weather.

“It’s just a snail,” Edmund responded, lowering his leg to the ground. Instead of squishing the garden creature, he kneeled down to the ground for a better look. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal garden snail, but it seemed to be rather important to his playmate.

“He is not just a snail! He is my friend.”

“If he’s your friend, what’s his name then?” Edmund let the small snail crawl up onto his finger before standing upright.

“Snaily,” Y/N responded, putting her hand out and throwing the teddy bear in her arms to the ground. Edmund placed Snaily on her palm and smiled a toothy smile. This made Y/N grin, putting her hand at eye level. “Thank you for not squashing him.”

“He’s my friend now, too. You don’t squash friends.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, “You don’t squash friends.”

“Do you remember being a baby?” Edmund asked Y/N. They were now eight and sitting on the Pevensie family swing set, avoiding the youngest Pevensie child, Lucy. Y/N adored Lucy, she thought the girl was adorable, but Edmund insisted the two have “big kid things” to attend to.

The swing set was old and rickety, as it had been in their family since Edmund’s older brother, Peter was a toddler. The colors were faded, the slide had a large crack in it and Edmund had written his and Y/N’s initials on one of the support beams. “No, am I supposed to?” Y/N answered. She had been last to reach the swings, so she was stuck with the squeaky one. Her face cringed each time the chains made a noise, despite her attempts to stay as still as possible. Y/N brought her hands to the teddy bear on her lap, covering its ears. Having been in the sun all afternoon, the swing was hot on her legs and it stuck uncomfortably to the skin on her thighs.

“I don’t think so. My parents were looking at our baby books this morning so I was wondering,”

“My mom has a picture of us when we were three hanging in our living room,” Y/N’s nose wrinkled and she kicked up a small patch of dirt. “We’ve been friends since we were babies. I don’t remember meeting you, though. You were just, there.”

Edmund laughed, standing so he could lean his stomach against the seat of the swing. He swung on his stomach once before situating back onto his feet. “Our fathers are friends which means we’re friends. That’s just the way the world works.”

“Friends forever, even if one of us moves far far far far away?”

“Friends forever, Y/N.”

“Do you have to go?” Ten-year-old Edmund stood outside of Y/N’s house, holding a box of barbies. Mr. L/N took the box from Ed’s hand and put it in the trunk of his car.

“It should only be for a few years at most, Ed. I’m getting relocated for work,” Mr. L/N responded, messing the young boy’s hair up with one hand. “We’ll be back. I gave your Dad our new address and you can write to Y/N to your heart’s content.”

When Y/N joined them at the car, backpack slung across her shoulder and her favorite teddybear hugged between her arms, tears were rolling down her face.

“I don’t want to go, please don’t make me!” She cried, holding to her teddy to her chest. Her face was scarlet and her mouth was etched into a frown.

“You can stay with us!” Edmund offered, his own tears starting to roll down his face. Y/N was more than just his playmate, she was his best friend. They had spent the last seven years of their life seeing eachother almost daily, and now all of that was going to come to a sudden halt.

“That’s sweet of you, buddy, but I think her mother and I would miss her too much,” Mr. L/N smiled down at the two before walking to the front of the car where his wife was talking to Helen Pevensie.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Edmund sniffled. “I’m going to miss you. I have no one to play on the swings with!”

“You can play with Lucy.” Edmund made a face at this suggestion, making Y/N sadly giggle. “Or Peter.”

“No, Lucy cries too much and Peter always kicks sand in my eyes.”

A thoughtful look came over Y/N’s face and she looked down at the plush in her arms. After a small moment of what looked like intense thought, she held her teddy out towards Edmund.

“Here, Ed, now you can have a friend!” Edmund hesitantly took the bear from Y/N’s hands and looked down at it. It was obvious Y/N really loved that thing because it was a bit raggedy and one of the brown button eyes was replaced with a bright green one. “Teddy likes it better here, anyway. You can take care of him.”

Y/N awkwardly gripped her upper arm with her hand, swaying on her heels. Edmund hugged it to him and nodded stiffly. “He’s in good hands. I will protect him with my life.”

Both kids laughed and embraced before Y/N was whisked into the car.

Dear Y/N,

Happy 12th birthday! I’m sad I couldn’t be there for it, but I hope your cake was yummy. The picture my mum showed me looked absolutely delicious. She also said you took up archery at your new school! My school doesn’t offer that, so I thought that was cool. Did you shoot anything? I know you are too nice to shoot any animals but I never know with you. ;) I hung out with this girl in my English class the other day, she reminded me of you. She had long brown hair and blue eyes and a laugh that sounds like yours. She wasn’t as fun as you, though. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend. I’m not sure if I want to be her boyfriend. She kept trying to hold my hand. Her hand was sweaty. And she kept saying I have a cute smile. I don’t know how a smile can be cute? Teeth are weird. Peter said that was her way of trying to flirt with me. Do you flirt with boys at your school? What do you say?

Maybe we can play Minecraft together again soon. Last time we played I had a great time. Have your mom text mine and we can try to schedule something. I want a phone, it would be easier to talk to you.

I attached a picture of me and Teddy at the park. He misses you almost as much as I do.

I’ll be waiting for your response,

Ed,

Thank you for the birthday wishes. :D The cake was delicious, I wish you could have tried it!!! And to answer your question, yes, but I’ve only ever shot targets. It’s against school rules to shoot anything other than them. Sort of a bummer, though.

Your not-girlfriend sounds nice. I agree with her, your smile is very nice. You always look so happy when you smile, especially when your eyes light up.

I don’t really flirt with boys, boys are kinda gross. Not you of course, but the guys at my school. There is this one guy named Ethan who is kinda cute. He wouldn’t want to be my boyfriend though. My friend always talks about kissing him. I want to kiss someone...have you ever kissed a girl?

My mum said I can get a phone when I turn 14. Then, we can text and call whenever we want! I miss you. How’s teddy? He looks so happy in that picture. I hung it on my bulletin board.

Respond quicker this time, will ya?

Y/N

EDMUND!!!

I’M HAVING A CRISIS AT THE RIPE OLD AGE OF 13! Remember that boy, Ethan? Well, apparently he has a big crush on me. That’s fine, he’s cute and everything, but my friend has a big crush on him. I guess it’s like friendship code to not date him? I feel bad rejecting him. I kinda have a crush on someone already. I know he doesn’t like me though.

Are you still dating that one girl? In your last letter, you said you were gonna break up with her. How’d that go? Did she cry? Did you cry? I hope you didn’t. I don’t like it when you cry. It makes me sad.

Can you believe we’re teenagers now? It seems like just yesterday I was handing you Teddy and crying in the car for an hour. I hope we come back soon. But hey! I’m almost 14, which means I’ll be getting a cell phone. Maybe if I have a phone my mum can convince yours to get you one.

I miss you, Ed. I hope to be back soon.

Y/N.

Y/N!!!!

I’m not sure if that really counts as a crisis, but okay. If you don’t like him, don’t date him. That’s why I broke up with mine. I discovered I kind of like someone else, so I broke up with her. And no, I didn’t cry. If felt like a relief more than anything. Let me know how the “crisis” turns out.

I can’t wait until I get a phone. My entire grade has one, and so do Susan and Peter. I feel kind of left out, having to write letters when I want to talk to someone. It’s always fun when I get them, though.

If I have to hear Stitches by Shawn Mendes one more time, my head is going to explode!!!! Susan keeps playing it on repeat. I tried to turn it off earlier and she almost broke my arm. Why are siblings so mean? Or are mine just weird? You’re lucky you’re an only child. I miss you too, Y/N. If you were here life would be so much easier.

Edmund

“Edmund, you got a letter,” Lucy says, dropping the envelope on his desk. He was working on college applications, typing away on his laptop, and looking grumpy. Music blasted through his speakers as he worked.

“I didn’t order anything?” He grunted in response, not taking his eyes off of the screen.

“It’s from the girl you’re basically in love with, I think. It has her name on it.” Edmund looked at the envelope with scrunched eyebrows. Sure enough, it had her name and address written on the front in her familiar handwriting. His heart rate sped up while he gently (and shakily) broke the paper seal. Why didn’t she just text him?

Hey, Edmund,

I know we haven’t talked since we were like 15 and I could have just texted you, but this seemed more nostalgic and romantic in a way. You know how I tend to romanticize everything.

Anyway, I wanted to let you know we’re moving back for Senior year, crazily enough. A few years my ass, huh? We’ll be back on the 14th, so get ready for chaos.

Seriously, I’m looking forward to seeing you outside of Instagram again. You don’t have to come see me if you don’t want to, I know it might be a bit awkward, but I’d really like it if you did. My address is 1014 Swanwhite Lane. Come stop by if you feel like it.

I do miss you. Judging by your social media, you’re doing well. I’m happy to hear that.

Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.

Y/N

“Oh my god, she’s coming back,” Edmund says, gripping the thin paper in between his thumb and middle finger. “What’s the date?”

Lucy pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, “The 28th. Why?”

“She got back the 14th! She’s been back for ages and I had no idea, oh my god!”

“Well, are you going to go see her? You lost your chance to sweep her off her feet by waiting for her to arrive.”

“Sweep her off her feet?” Lucy rolled her eyes and hit him with the rest of the family’s mail.

“Don’t play stupid. I’ve heard you and Peter talking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes skimmed the letter again. Lucy snatched it from his fingers and hit him with it.

“Don’t know what I’m talking about? Really, Ed? The whole ‘I’ve been in love with her since I was 8 years old’ thing you told Pete? You don’t recall? Or the fact you have her post notifications on?” Lucy read the letter herself. “She wants to see you! Come on, this is your chance. You haven’t even looked at a girl since you were like 13.”

“I’ve been focusing on school. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s a Friday night in the middle of August and you’re getting a head start on college applications. Ed, go see the girl.”

“Mum will never let me,” Lucy held up one finger and left the room. After about 5 minutes, she returned and held his coat out to him.

“She said to go have fun. Here, it might be chilly.” Edmund sighed and took his jacket. The corduroy felt soft under his fingers as he slid it on.

“You don’t have to be so pushy, Lu.”

Lucy smiled, “It’s only because I love you. Besides, if I didn’t push you, you wouldn’t go.”

Edmund sat on the curb across the street and looked up at Y/N’s house. It was well past 11 at this point and only one light in the house was on. Hopefully, it was Y/N’s.

He awkwardly thumbed through his contacts before pulling up Y/N’s. The last text was on his birthday, a simple two message conversation consisting of “Happy Birthday!” and “Thanks!”

Look outside

He watched nervously as his message went from delivered to read, but no typing bubble popped up. Edmund sighed and stood, shoving his phone into his jacket pocket and walking towards the house. Sure enough, the front door opened and a grown-up Y/N stepped out. She was still dressed, but her shoes were off and her hair was tied back. Edmund smiled at her mismatched socks, old habits die hard apparently.

“I thought you were never going to come and see me,” Her voice was like honey.

“I just got the letter today, so blame the postal service. Not me.” The two walked to the curb and sat down.

“Well, I’m glad you still came. I was expecting you to wimp out.”

“Wimp out?! Why would I do that?”

Y/N let out a forced chuckle and looked at the pavement. “Because you stopped answering my texts and calls.” She crossed her arms across her body and shivered. She was only wearing a short-sleeve shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. “But I get it, life gets in the way sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Are you cold?” Without waiting for an answer, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it across Y/N’s shoulders. It smelled like spearmint gum and pine.

Y/N let out a real chuckle this time. “Smooth, Ed. Very cheesy.”

“I will happily take it back.”

“Please don’t, this is the closest I’ve been to you in years.” Her fingers gripped the material and closed it around her torso. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Edmund didn’t quite know what to do. “I missed you, Edmund. It’s so nice to see you again.”

“I missed you too. Your return is a few years late.” His chest vibrated with a snicker.

“I know, but I’m back now.” A moment of silence filled the air as the two tried to grow more comfortable in the familiar company.

“I used to dream about sitting with you like this, you know,” Edmund said before he could stop himself.

“You did?”

“Yeah, I used to picture us in all sorts of situations, but most of them were small things like this.”

“But not anymore?”

Edmund sighed, laying his head on top of hers. His hair tickled Y/N’s forehead. “I figured you moved on from me.”

“Moved on? What do you mean?”

“I mean, you have so many friends and a new life… and we stopped texting as often. I don’t know, I thought you, maybe, outgrew me.”

Y/N played with the zipper on Edmund’s jacket, making a small clicking noise fill the air. “I never outgrew you, Ed. In fact, a day didn’t go by that I didn’t wish I was here with you.”

“I don’t see why. You had so many friends and such an exciting life. I’m rather dull in comparison.”

“You’re definitely not dull. And it doesn’t matter how many friends it seems like I have, you’re the only one I consider a best friend. I should have reached out more, maybe I could have had a better year.”

Edmund shifted so he could wrap an arm around her waist. “Did you have a bad year?”

“Yeah, that’s sort of why we came back. But, I mean, I’m here with you, so everything has a bright side.”

Edmund grinned and tightened his grip. “That’s one of the things I love most about you. You can always see the positives in everything.” Y/N pulled back and looked at his face.

“I love it when you smile,” Y/N commented. “I could spend hours staring at that god damn smile.” Edmund’s cheeks reddened and his smile grew bigger.

“Why don’t you, then? Stay with me for hours, I mean.”

“I will if you let me, Pevensie.”

Edmund sniffed once.

“Did you ever end up dating that guy from your Chemistry class?” Edmund asks, studying the side of her face. His eyes scanned over her skin, admiring how soft it looked.

“No, I’ve been in love with someone else for quite some time.”

“What a lucky guy, then.” Edmund’s voice was only a bit louder than a mumble as he turned his head away from her.

“Yeah, I guess he is. I’ve known him since I was really young.”

“How’d you meet him?” Every word felt like a dagger into his stomach.

“I don’t remember, he was always just there. Our dads were friends so we were friends. That’s just how the world works.” Edmund took his hand off of Y/N and placed it in his lap.

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah, he’s super cute. He’s really smart, too, but kinda oblivious.”

“Wow, he sounds great, Y/N. I’m so happy for you.” Each word sounded like he was choking them out. He stopped listening a few responses ago, but he still wanted to support her. No matter how hurt he felt, he was still her friend.

“He’s the best person I’ve ever met, if I’m being quite honest. He can be a bit of an ass though.”

“What’s his name?”

“You might know him,” Y/N tucked her hands into her sleeves before continuing. “His name is Edmund Pevensie.”

“Wow, what a cool- wait what?” Y/N giggled at the look on his face. His eyebrows were lifted and his mouth was open slightly.

“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe you’ve met him.”

“You’ve been in love with me?”

“Been and am, darling. God, when I got your text tonight my heart almost stopped.” Edmund was speechless, he couldn’t believe the girl he had been in love with for so long felt the same way. “Of course it’s okay if you don’t feel the same-”

“-No! I’m just shocked. I can’t believe this. I have loved you since we were little, I feel like I’m dreaming.” He couldn’t help but let the smile engulf his face, making his freckles stand out against his red cheeks. This was not what he was expecting when he had walked to her house.

“There’s that handsome smile I love to see.”

“So, you were waiting for me?”

“Just like you were waiting for me. Lucy texted me about six months ago about how you never show any interest when she tries to set you up with girls. Now is just our time, unless you aren’t going to show interest in me.”

“When did you get so sassy?” Edmund turned so he was facing her straight on.

“When did you get so flust-” She was cut off mid-word by his warm lips being pressed against hers. He tasted like licorice and mint, and Y/N instantly got intoxicated off of his lips. Both parties had dreamed about this moment for years, so now that it was happening, it left them both feeling light-headed. Edmund pulled back and smirked.

“Who’s the flustered one now?” He asks, hand cupping her cheek.

“Does this mean you’re finally mine?”

“Y/N, I’ve always been yours. Hell, I’ll always be yours.”

Edmund made a face as if he remembered something and reached into his backpack, “By the way, I’m not the only one who missed you.” He placed a very old teddy bear in his lover’s lap.

He had raggedy fur and one green eye.

#edmund pevensie #king edmund #king edmund the just #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia #c.s. lewis #c. s. lewis #modern au #edmund #fluff

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saltlampsasuke · 3 years

Text

Unfortunately, You Are Experiencing Symptoms of Falling in Love: Part 7

Having your long-term boyfriend cheat on you is pretty bad, but you're lucky enough to have a rich, pro-hero best friend who lets you move in with him until you get a new apartment. Except lockdown happens. And you can't look for a new apartment anymore, and you can't go anywhere anymore, and neither can your best friend, and you think you might be falling a little bit in love with him. Or maybe you've been in love with him all along.

The story of how it takes a nationwide lockdown for you and Bakugou Katsuki to finally get together, part 7!

wordcount: 2,239

taglist: @stargazerunlimited @luna-bloodrose @lov4kbg @fukyouthink

I'm back with an update (in less than a month no less)! I wrote this all in one night and stayed up rather late because I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope that comes across in the work. Also, I wrote out a really detailed outline which helped me really get working as well. According the the outline, there should be around 7 chapters left, so I updated the work to reflect that. Of course that may change, but I will be sure to keep you all updated! This chapter might actually be my favorite I've written so far, and it does move the feelings along a bit, so please enjoy!

You had to admit, a part of you was more than a bit nervous about the prospect of spending the next weeks, or months maybe even (though hopefully not) with your best friend. Though he had always been nothing but kind and patient with you, a clear contrast to his treatment of almost everyone else, perhaps the constant exposure to you would irritate him and he would grow tired of you. Of course, you did have to give him credit. The past Katsuki might not have even let you into his house in the first place. And though he didn’t ever say it out loud, you knew he cared enough about you to at least not say anything if he grew bored or irritated.

Still, while you had originally been thrilled at the prospect of having less work and more time to relax, something you hadn’t had in a while, only one week in and you were growing bored already. It was odd to not be doing anything, even though not doing anything was actually the best thing you could be doing at the moment. Sure, Katsuki had set up a small workbench for you in your room so that you could tinker with things, but without access to the serious machinery you were used to constantly having available, you could only do so much. You were beginning to wonder if Katsuki would let you take apart all of his highly expensive watches so that you could reassemble them into a magnificent, one-of-a-kind watch. Instead, you found yourself in his ridiculously stocked kitchen making herbed focaccia so that you could feel like you were contributing in some way.

And honestly, it was pretty fun. Baking was sort of like making gear in a way, you assembled the parts and if it turned out wrong you were in trouble. Of course, if it turned out right you ended up with something pretty great. Depending on the results of your first real foray into the kitchen during your time in Katsuki’s apartment, you might just end up doing this more often.

Of course, besides the prospect of delicious bread, you had one other thing to enjoy as a result of your baking. The design of the apartment made it so that the kitchen island had a direct view to the workout room if you faced the right direction, and since for some reason Katsuki never bothered to close the door, while baking you had a complete view of him as he worked to stay in top shape. Honestly, it was like he was showing off or something. Not that you knew all that much about his workout routine, especially from a distance, but the amount and size of the weights he was using was truly mind-boggling. You had to give it to him, he was really in shape. You could see why he was consistently ranked among the top most attractive heroes.

Not that you were thinking about him like that, of course. It’s just that as his support technician, you needed to be aware of his body and its capabilities in order to design the best and most effective gear. And honestly, he couldn’t be leaving the door more open than it already was. And you had started making the bread first. Seriously, this was on him. His timing was weird. He was weird. He was… walking over to you?

Katsuki walked into the kitchen before you could really shake your previous unruly thoughts out of your mind and leaned over on the other side of the island. He was away from you but not quite far enough, arms flexing lightly as he grinned at you. He was wearing one of those black tank tops that he used to wear all the time back in high school, and you watched nervously as a bead of sweat rolled down the top of his torso to disappear between his pecs. You were almost scared to look at his face, but you forced yourself to meet his steady gaze. His grin widened wolfishly.

“Trying to take over my kitchen already, princess? You’re out of work for only a week and already you start going all housewife on me,” he says with snark, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Don’t make me move out on you, Katsuki, it’s not my fault I’m this bored. I can always go live in the workshop and tinker with gear to my heart’s content if I’m really bothering you that much,” you spoke back to him with equal teasing bite.

“But think of how lonely I’d get! Always nagging me about how I need to be more social yet threatening to leave me all by myself for who knows how long? I’m liable to go back to yelling at everyone I meet if you do that.” You laugh, and set your dough in the pan.

“At least you can admit to your past faults. Besides, I don’t think I could handle living by myself and being alone all day. No matter how much you bother me, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” Katsuki’s eyes flashed at your declaration, and he bounded excitedly over to you.

“Is that a challenge, princess? Because you know I always win whenever I set my mind to a goal,” he said grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You wiggled and hit his back, but to no avail.

“Put me down, you lout! I need to put the bread in the oven!” you complained, but he paid you no mind, instead throwing you down on his couch with a laugh.

“There you go, down, just like you asked.” You shook your head, moving to get up, but Katsuki grabbed your leg. “If you’re bored enough to make bread, why don’t we watch a movie or something? I’ll be honest with you since you can’t go and tell anyone else; I’m just as bored as you are. I’d kill to be out on patrol right now. Hell, I’d even file the paperwork after.”

That’s how you know he’s serious. You’ve worked with Katsuki long enough to know (to the eternal irritation of his secretaries) that he never fills out any paperwork unless absolutely necessary. So if he’s bored enough to do paperwork, he must be bored out of his mind. Of course, being in the same boat yourself, you can’t exactly make fun of him. And a movie might be nice.

“I guess we could do something, but I really do want to finish the bread first. You aren’t the only person in the apartment who can use an oven, you know,” you replied.

“I would hope not, since we’ll both be eating that and I’m not about to eat some shitty bread,” said Katsuki. “I pay for this apartment. Don’t waste my ingredients.”

“Like you would let me leave this apartment, no matter how much shitty bread I make. But I’ll admit that you were right, I am baking because I’m bored, just as much as you,” you disclosed reluctantly, not wanting him to think that you were unsatisfied with the apartment or his company when it was really nothing but the opposite.

“I’m always right, princess. You should know that by now at least.” He grinned, restraining you more tightly. The black tank top was really doing nothing to keep you from feeling the contours of his muscles. He was strong, no doubt about it. If he really wanted, he could keep you trapped here against him for as long as he wanted. Not that he ever would. Perhaps the only thing equal to his strength was his kindness, though he would kill you if he ever caught you thinking anything along those lines. You kept getting drawn into all these weird thoughts all of a sudden! His fault, of course, for being so clingy.

“What you are is sweaty, you lout! Go take a shower or something and stop making me all gross and sweaty just like you,” you fired back, to his amusement.

“Alright, alright, fair point. Guess I could use a shower. But seriously, do something with me. I feel like I’m going crazy here!” he whined. You had to sympathize with him. And you could have much worse company.

“Ok, we can do whatever, your pick, as long as you let me make this damn bread first. I’m not about to let you spoil all my hard work!” Katsuki let you go, nodding.

“Fair enough, I can take that shower you were bitching about while you finish up. But if I really get to pick we’re not just going to watch some dumb movie. You and I are going to swim in the pool. If I spent all this damn money on the shitty thing and never use it I’m going to be pissed.” You agreed happily. You had wanted to use the pool for a while, but you had never quite taken up the opportunity. You rushed back to the kitchen to finish your bread and put it in the oven.

Katsuki was done with his shower while there was about ten minutes left on the timer for the bread. He offered to keep an eye on it while you grabbed your swimsuit, which was just fine with you. At the very least, if the bread turned out horrible you could blame him at least a little. You rummaged through your drawers for your swimsuits, trying to think of the last time you had gone swimming. It was a while ago; Takumi had never really liked the water and so you never really went, seeing as all your free time was spent with him. Did you even have a swimsuit anymore? No way, you had to have a swimsuit, right? Right?

By the time the timer went off in the kitchen, you had accepted the fact that you just didn’t own a swimsuit, and would have to disappoint your friend. You moved slowly to the kitchen.

“Damn, well if you don’t look like someone ran over your childhood pet!” You shook your head sadly.

“I don’t have a swimsuit, Katsuki,” you said. He almost seemed to glare at you, bewildered.

“What do you mean you don’t have a swimsuit? Everyone has a swimsuit,” he asked in confusion.

“Not me. I just don’t have one. I’m really sorry, but it looks like I can’t go swimming with you tonight.” You felt awful. He had seemed genuinely excited to finally show you the swimming pool, and you had ruined his plan.

“Dumbass, just borrow mine. You’ll be fine.”

“I can’t just wear swimming trunks, Katsuki, are you insane?” He quickly cut you off.

“Calm down, you can just wear a pair of trunks and an old shirt, you’re overthinking things by a mile. Who’s going to see you? It’s just me.” That’s right. It’s just Katsuki. He doesn’t give a crap what you wear. You nod your assent weakly, and he quickly grabs you what he said he would.

You change in your room, pulling the drawstrings of the trunks tight to secure it. Even though the shirt was fresh, it still smelled a bit like him, all warm and smoky and comforting. You stepped out of the room, only to see him missing. He had likely headed up to the pool and you decided to join him.

Your guess had been correct, he was already submerged in the pool. The sun had sunk while you finished the bread, and faint stars glimmered through the windows while the moon shone down, reflecting off of the faintly rippling waters. Katsuki sat against the wall, and grinned brightly at you.

“See, what did I tell you? You look fine.” You looked more than fine to him. Seeing you wearing his clothes made him feel oddly warm, despite the slight coolness of the pool. As you carefully descended the steps, the hem of the shirt soaked up water quickly, clinging to the curves of your body in a way that was almost more revealing than it would have been if you had simply foregone the shirt. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help himself. You just looked too good in the moonlight, wearing his clothes like you had on the very day you arrived. He was feeling that weird pull in his chest again. Either he should never lend you anything ever again, or he should only ever let you wear his clothes again. He could definitely pay the people who did the laundry to “accidentally” burn all of your clothes. Yeah, that was a weird thing to think about. He wouldn’t ever want to force you to do anything. If you wore his clothes, he wanted it to be of your own free will.

The two of you swam mostly in silence under the half moon, but neither of you minded. The presence of the other was all that you needed, and when you finally went to be, you both felt recharged, and deeply grateful for the other’s presence right now.

That night, you feel asleep rather quickly. Katsuki, however, fell asleep less easily. Though he felt well at ease, for some reason, he kept getting distracted by thoughts of you. Remembering that you were only one room away finally helped him sleep, and when he finally did, you were in all his dreams as well.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x you #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #pro hero Bakugou #my hero academy #my hero academia

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writingsoftheghost · 4 years

Text

Wrong Turn Goes Right Pt.2

Pt. 1 is here.

Based on this prompt by @kawaiikat54

Remus checked on Patton many times throughout the day. More than what were probably necessary, but Patton didn’t mind. He liked talking with Remus. He wasn’t all sexual jokes and violent art. Though, that was a lot of him. He was also vulnerable and caring. Curiousity that ran too deep and became morbid thought.

Patton would often have to reassure him into talking, he’d have to promise not to be too disgusted by whatever Remus was about to say. He’d talk himself into saying something very sweet and very uncharacteristic for Remus. Then, his cheeks tinted red, would run off with the excuse of work to do. Only to return a few minutes later, he brought snacks, water. And he also helped Patton to stumble to the restroom, it took him a few minutes to explain to Remus why he would prefer the bathroom door closed, but other than that, it was no issue.

Remus seemed to like having someone to talk to. However, this time when he came to check on him. The manic spark was gone from his face. Instead, he looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked before Remus had even crossed the room.

“Uhm, okay. Listen, cookie. I’m sorry, but we’ve gotta change your bandages, okay? I promise I’ll be gentle, and I’ll try to be quick, okay? Just a few minutes, then I won’t touch you anymore, promise.”

Patton frowns, “Yeah, okay. They need to be changed. It’s okay. Thank you for helping me.”

Remus relaxes at his words, “Thank you, Patton.”

Patton cocks his head to the side, “For what?”

Remus starts pulling a medical kit out from under the bed, “Not being fussy, I know having my hands on you isn’t pleasant, and you’ve probably had enough of me man handling your sweet bod. So thanks for not being upset about it.”

Patton’s face turns pink as he shrugs, “I don’t mind. Your hands are really warm, and you’ve been nothing but helpful this entire time. Thank you so much for taking care of me.”

Remus chuckles, “You’re a great patient, cupcake. Now, I’m gonna set you up, okay?”

At Patton’s nod Remus adjusts the spectacled man so that he’s sitting up. He gently starts undoing the bandages across the moral side’s chest.

Patton hisses out a breath as he pulls the final layer from his sweat sticky skin.

Remus pats his leg softly, “Sorry, cookie.”

Patton nods, “It’s not your fault.”

“My creation,” Remus grumbles as he readies a disinfectant wipe.

Patton reaches forward and drags Remus’s face up to look him in the eyes, “This is not your fault. I wandered into your domain. What you do here is not supposed to bend to the will of the rest of us, this is your space. I went into it and now I’m facing the consequences. This is not your fault, Remus.”

Remus nods, eyes wide from the act of Patton touching him. “I’m still sorry you’re hurt.”

Patton nods, “You’re helping a lot and I’m sorry for taking your attention for so long. Thank you for being here for me.”

Remus gives a chaotic grin, “No problem, Daddy. I promise I’ve got nothing else I’d rather be doing. It’s nice to have some company here.”

Patton smiles at him, Remus turns back to his work. The pressure on Patton’s chest hurts a lot, but they manage to work through it. When he’s done Remus puts him back into a relaxed position. He brushes sweaty bangs back from Patton’s forehead.

“All done, sweetpea. Now what would you like to do?”

Patton shrugs, “I don’t know. Do you have any movies?”

Remus cackles, “For you I can get one. What would you like to watch?”

Patton frowns, “I don’t know...”

Remus gives him an encouraging smile, “How about Frozen? I know you love it.”

Patton smiles and nods, “Yeah, that sounds good!”

Ten minutes later Remus and Patton are both in the bed, a laptop between them and a bowl of popcorn in Remus’s lap.

“You burned it!” Patton giggles.

“Yeah, I always do. Sorry, Pat.”

Patton shrugs, “I like it a little burnt.”

Remus gives him a big grin, “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s just better this way. Roman thinks it’s gross though. So we don’t ever make it like this.”

Remus groans, “God! Roman and his ‘perfect popcorn!’ It’s awful!”

Patton chuckles, “Yeah, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Remus nods, they turn back as the movie starts.

Patton leans into Remus’s shoulder.

Remus stares at him in shock for only a moment before putting an arm around the moral side’s shoulders. Patton giggles and leans into him some more.

Halfway through the movie Patton’s body becomes dead weight on Remus’s side.

Remus giggles as he realizes Patton’s asleep on him. “Goodnight, cookie.” He takes Patton’s glasses and sets them aside.

Patton nuzzles into his chest. “Night, Remus.” He says to a shocked creativity.

“Night.” Remus whispers.

Patton giggles before allowing himself to fall asleep.

*****

The next morning Remus wakes to find Patton still curled up into his side. He smiles fondly, hand reaching out to stroke the moral side’s brown locks.

“Hm?” Patton opens one eye.

Remus cackles, “Sorry, Patty, thought you were still asleep.”

Patton smiles at him, “Nope. Goodmorning, Remus.”

“Morning, cookie.” Remus allows himself to stroke Patton’s hair some more.

Patton leans into the touch, “You gonna go see Ro?”

Remus nods, “In a minute.”

“Mmkay,” the smaller side nuzzles further into Remus’s chest.

They lay that way for another hour, when Remus finally does get up Patton’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist.

“Everything okay?” He asks Patton.

“They’re not gonna make me go back are they? I mean, I can’t exactly do much of anything right now...and I, uhm, I’d like to stay with you?” The last part is whispered.

Remus cocks his head to the side, “You don’t wanna go back home yet?”

Patton shakes his head.

“Why?”

Patton looks down at the floor, “I wanna spend more time with you...”

Now Remus is sure he’s misheard, “What was that, cookie.”

“Well, it’s just that...spending this time with you was really nice and I’m just...” he sighs, “Not ready for it to end.”

Remus chuckles, “You can stay with me, baby.”

Patton’s face turns a sharp shade of red. “I-I can?”

“Of course you can, but... it’s gonna cost you.”

Patton frowns, “Cost me what?”

“One kiss.” Remus says, a devilish grin on his features.

When he’s met with silence, he quickly tries to back pedal, “I’m kidding, Pat. You don’t have—”

He’s cut off by Patton’s lips on his own. It takes Remus a moment to overcome the shock but as soon as he does he’s kissing back. They break away a little too soon for Remus’s taste.

Patton falls back onto the bed with an exhausted sigh, “So I can stay?” He asks softly, cheeks tinted red.

Remus nods, “Of course you can.” His face is also red.

Patton giggles, “Good, because I’d like to do that again.”

Remus nods, he doesn’t know what else to say. Patton just kissed him. “I would also like to do that again.” He sits down on the edge of the bed again.

Patton meets his lips halfway. This kiss is longer. Cut short by Patton making a noise of discomfort.

Remus pulls back and looks to where Patton is staring at his bandages.

“You okay, baby?”

Patton nods, “I might just need some more downtime. Good thing I’ve got a good doctor.” He flashes Remus a smile.

———————

I hope this was what everyone wanted. I did my best. I just thought it was cute.

#sanders sides #intruality #injury #caretaker #ts remus #ts patton #patton sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders #ts fanfic #sanders sides fic #wrong turn goes right

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years

Text

Forging Paths Final Part

Batsis Story!

A/N: First and foremost, I apologize to the people who follow me because I just spammed the everliving fuck outta y’all and I’m so sorry. Secondly, here’s the last part! -Thorne <3

Set two years after Part 6.

(Y/N)'s body cried as she shoved open her window and dropped inside her apartment. She lay on the floor and groaned when the stinging sensation came back to her shoulder. I really need to get that sewed up. She thought as she began pulling herself off the floor. She hobbled into the bathroom, passing her nightstand and making a mental note to check her answering machine when she was finished. Layer by layer, she peeled off her uniform, which clung to her sweaty skin. Once her body hit the cold air, she moaned in relief. I love L.A., but I also hate L.A. Why the hell did I choose someplace that's 72˚, in the summer, at night? She shook her head and pulled out the first aid kit under her sink and began disinfecting the cut on her shoulder. Carefully, she stitched it back up and cleaned it once more before taking some aspirin and hopping in the shower. Wrapped in her bath towel, (Y/N) moved to her bedroom and walked to the dresser, pulling out some underclothes and a T-shirt. Slipping them on, she toweled her hair as she sat on the edge of her bed and hit the button to the answering machine. The machine spat out the usual: You have one new message, Friday 7:49 P.M. The voice that came out was one she was certainly not expecting.

"Hi (Y/N)? It's me, Selina Kyle. I...uh...Catwoman, if you don't remember." She snorted at Selina's awkward sounding message. "I was just calling to let you know about my engagement...to your father...Bruce." (Y/N)'s eyes went saucer wide and her jaw hit the floor. He's getting married? Big man that dresses in a Bat costume and hides all his emotions? Him? He's getting married? She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Selina's voice continued on the machine. "Look, I know, well actually I don't know, because I wasn't there, but that's not important. Anyway, I know you and your dad don't speak, at all, but I wanted you to know about us and I was hoping that maybe you would come? I know it's a stupid request, but when I tell you that everything you said to him weighs on his heart, I'm not lying. Your dad is weak, (Y/N). He is a weak man who misses his daughter and wants to make things right between you two, even if he's a damn fool who has no clue how to go about it. I know it's asking a lot, but I hope you'll come back for a while. If not, I understand. I wish you all the best in the world (Y/N). Goodbye." The message ended and (Y/N) sat on her bed in bewildered disbelief. There's absolutely no way he wants to see me, not after everything I said, after everything we said. She thought. But the more she thought about it, the more believable Selina's message sounded. She rose off her bed and began pacing around her room. Then, she stopped. Don't do it. She told herself. Don't do it, he doesn't want to see you. She brushed away her thoughts and groaned pulling a small suitcase from her closet and setting it on the bed. Reaching for her phone she dialed a number and waited, the person picking up after a few rings.

"Heyyy, Uncle Oliver. It's (Y/N)." (Y/N) looked at the answering machine once more and peered at it through narrowed eyes. "I'm gonna need a favor...."

If there was one thing she loved about summer in Gotham, it was the fact that it stayed in the mid 40's all night. The cool breeze felt nice on her skin as she drove around the city. Nothing had changed enough to be notice, but the drive was still nostalgic. Passing the high skyscrapers, she drove along the bridge that led to Wayne Enterprises. Parking her bike near the side, she pulled out her grappling gun and shot up to the top. Her hand gripped the top ledge and she pulled herself up and on it, reclining back and staring out into the city. Had you asked her two years ago what she thought of Gotham, you would have gotten the reply, "hell-hole." But looking at it now, she affectionately referred to it as a, "pretty hell-hole" (with a beautiful night-scene). She looked out into the night and watched the subways glide through the station, as night workers filed in to go home. She could see the clock-tower in the distance, a hideaway Barbara stayed in when she was too busy to get to the Batcave. No, she didn't truly hate the city anymore. It was bad memories that tainted it for her. She stayed silent for a few moments before speaking. "How'd you know I was in Gotham?" She glanced over her shoulder and watched as he walked forward. He stopped and sat beside her, removing the cowl before replying.

"I know everyone who comes in and out of my city." She rolled her eyes and huffed a laugh.

"Of course you do." His eyes crinkled just a little and he stared at her.

"Why are you back?" She raised an eyebrow at the question that sounded more like a suspicious accusation.

"Why are you so concerned about it?" He drew back slightly, tripping over his words.

"I...uh...I'm not...I'm not concerned about it. I just...hmm." She looked at him as he stumbled clumsily over his explanation, and her eyebrows drew together in humor. She reached over and nudged his shoulder.

"Relax. I'm just kidding." His mouth formed a small smile and he exhaled. "I heard from a certain Cat that she and a certain Bat were tying the knot." He looked at her, shock evident on his face. Well it's obvious she didn't tell him about her phone call to me. "She mentioned that she wanted me to come. And well, I think you and I need to have a heart-to-heart conversation that doesn't involve us screaming at one another." It was rare for (Y/N) to speak this way to Bruce, but if he really wanted to fix things, she was going to have to take the first step. She opened her mouth to speak when he rose.

"Wait right here for a moment. I'll be right back." He sauntered off, leaving (Y/N) confused.

"Uh, okay. Sure, I'll wait right here."

He returned shortly after with a bottle in one hand and two crystal glasses in another. Her face morphed into shock when she saw the bottle.

"Is that, The Macallan M Whiskey?" He nodded his head a smirk playing his lips, as he poured two glasses.

"Yes, yes it is." He handed her one of the glasses, taking the other himself.

"Dude, you know this shit sells for like 630 G's right? We could make a hella ton of money if we sold it." Bruce started laughing at that, and it shocked her. It had been so long since he'd laughed in front of her that she had forgotten he even could.

"(Y/N) you do remember that I'm a multi-billionaire, right?" Her face morphed into realization as she mumbled a quiet, 'oh yeah, I forgot about that.'

"So why are we drinking super expensive whiskey?" He placed his glass down beside him and he drew his hands together, glancing out into the city.

"When I was fifteen years old, I went exploring into the other parts of the manor I hadn't ever looked in. One of those parts being the cellar where we stored our liquor. I found a letter my father had written and stuck to the bottle." His face dropped and for a split second, (Y/N) thought her father looked so much older than he should have. He cleared his throat and continued. "The letter was addressed to me, telling me that I was to open this bottle when I hit a major accomplishment in my life." He looked at (Y/N) and the sincerity in his gaze made her chest tighten. "I should've opened it the day you were born. In fact, I should've opened it the day you left for L.A." She looked at her lap.

"Why?" He continued to stare at her.

"Because of the woman my daughter grew up to be." Tears blurred (Y/N)'s vision and she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Looking up at him, he wore a heart-wrenching smile, and his eyes were sad. "You were right about it all (Y/N). I never raised you like I should've. I put too much pressure on you setting the bar so high, thinking it would help, that instead of helping, it damaged you. I wasn't there for you like I should've been when you were younger, and if I could go back in time, I would spend every moment of free time I had, taking care of my beautiful baby-girl." (Y/N) brought her hands up to her face and covered it, as muffled sobs came out of her mouth. Taking a risk, Bruce reached out and put his arms around her, pulling her to his chest and placed a hand to the side of her head. His head rested on her shoulder and she felt her jacket begin to go damp. "You were right when you called me a poor excuse for a father. I am so sorry (Y/N), for everything. I'm so sorry I wasn't the father you deserved or needed. I'm sorry I made you resent everything you grew up with. I'm sorry that no matter how much I apologize, it won't ever be enough. Because no words or actions could ever fix what I've broken. I'm so...I'm so-.." His voice cut off as ragged sobs cut through his chest, but he just kept mumbling the words 'I'm so sorry'. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his shoulder, feeling his arms tighten around her. When was the time dad hugged me? She thought. She couldn't remember, but it was sorely overdue. They stayed that way for a long while, a broken father holding his broken daughter, and cried.

After some time, they eventually pulled away and began wiping their faces. Everything was fine until, "Ugh gross! You snotted all over my shoulder!" (Y/N) took one look at her father pointing to his snot covered shoulder and broke into hysteric laughing; Bruce joining in, but still had a disgusted look on his face. (Y/N)'s stomach hurt she was laughing so hard, and tears rolled down her cheeks, and she let out an airy, 'I'm sorry'. Bruce just waved it off and kept laughing, tears rolling down his cheeks too. After their laughter died down, they wiped their eyes once more, and then picked up their glasses. Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but (Y/N) motioned for him to wait. He nodded at her. She sat up straight and faced him.

"Look, I know a bottle of whiskey and one boo-hoo fest isn't going to repair everything that's happened between us." Bruce looked down into his glass, until a hand gripped his own, causing him to look up at (Y/N), who wore peaceful expression. "But, I'm certainly willing to try." She reached out her glass and looked at him. "What do you say...Dad?" Bruce's eyes began to feel warm, and he reached up and wiped them before moving his glass to hers. He looked at her and clinked it.

"I think that's a fine idea...Daughter." They shared a smile and knocked back their glasses, staring out into city. It was peaceful for a moment before she leaned over and spoke.

"So, just out of curiosity, if I move back to Gotham, can I keep patrolling like I'm living back in L.A.?" She heard a strong grunt beside her.

"No."

"Meh. Thought I'd ask anyway." They both broke into laughter again, pouring each other another glass.

The summer nights in Gotham weren't exactly cold, just enough to wear a jacket for a little warmth. But as (Y/N) and Bruce sat on the ledge of Wayne Enterprises drinking whiskey and cracking jokes,

It was all the warmth they needed.

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kitten-anarchy · 4 years

Text

frenemies (TUA Fanfic)

TUA | BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO

PROMPT: ENEMY TURNED CARETAKER

(ao3 link)

TWS: emetophobia (vomiting), the handler is kind of creepy (not sexually!! PSA: if i see anyone tag this as ship, i’m gonna break your kneecaps :D) = Five wakes to a pounding, ear-splitting headache.

His vision is blurry, black spots dancing in his vision, and he can barely keep himself from throwing up. Instinctively, his hands go to wipe his nose, expecting the usual trail of blood that comes with overusing his powers. His hands come back dry - not even a fleck of dried blood on them.

Did I get kidnapped?

He bites back a groan of annoyance. Of course. Five is not unfamiliar with the infamous Hargreeves family luck. It's his own fault for letting his guard down; after getting stranded for forty-five years and stopping two apocalypses, he really should know better then to expect one day off.

Rubbing his aching head, Five takes stock of the room. It's a simple thing, four smooth stone walls with only a single door across from where he's sitting. Annoyingly enough, he's attached to a monitor and an IV. Normally, Five wouldn't think twice about removing the wires and jumping out, but just the thought of it makes his head spin.

He'll have to suck it up. You're fifty-eight years old, Five. You can handle a little pain. Get over yourself.

Five swings his legs off the bed, shivering slightly as his bare feet touch the cold concrete flooring. The freezing air easily penetrates the thin white hospital gown. He slowly makes his way towards the wooden door. It's annoying, feeling this weak and vulnerable. It doesn't help that he doesn't have access to his powers. At the very least, he can take comfort in the fact that his siblings aren't-

His siblings.

Fuck, where are his siblings? Are they in here with him? Shit. Shit.

Don't panic, Five, Dolores would say. Take a deep breath. I'm sure they're fine.

Right, right. They're thirty years old, and they can hold their own in a fight. They'll be fine.

(They're thirty years old, and they can hold their own in a fight, but that didn't help them against the end of the world.)

He starts making his way quicker to the door, ignoring the way the burning taste of bile that fills his mouth. He tries the door - it's locked. Of course it is.

He doesn't have time for this.

Five dislikes blinking into unknown areas - anyone or anything could be there, and while Five is confidant he can still put up a damn good fight if need be, he doesn't want to risk it. The wood is thin, though, and Five can't hear or see anything passing by. Concentrating, he blinks into a mostly empty hallway.

He throws up on the spot.

Sinking to his knees, Five chokes, phlegm and blood littering the bile splattering the cold cement flooring. The flickering fluorescent light bulb makes his nausea worse, and his eyes squeeze shut as another heave wracks his shaky, weak body.

His head spins.

Everything spins.

It all blurs together, and Five can't tell the walls from the floor from the ceiling from the door from the floor.

Between heaves, he can faintly make out the faint sound of footsteps. His powers don't work. His throw-up cools around his fingers, sticky and gross. His powers don't work. The footsteps grow louder. His powers don't work. Cool fingers card their way through his sweaty hair.

"Oh, Five," a voice tuts. The air suddenly smells sweet, crusty and sickeningly so, a faint undercurrent of smoke reminding Five of burnt caramel. He dry-heaves again. "Look at the mess you've made. Good little boys don't throw up on the floor."

Don't fucking patronize me, he wants to hiss but the words dry up in his throat as he looks up. The Handler smiles down at him, easily picking him up bridal style. "You should go back to bed," she says. "You're not well."

He struggles in her grip, clawing at her throat as her sharp nails dig deeper into his legs and shoulders. His limbs are weak, bones shaky like jelly. "Don't fucking touch me." Five snarls, clawing and scratching but she won't put him down. How the hell is she even alive? What the fuck does he have to do to make sure she dies and stays dead?

"Relax, dear," They aren't going back to the room, instead walking down the hallway. They pass by more doors, all the same - 009, 010, 011... it just keeps going. Where the hell is she taking him? Where the hell is she taking him? "I don't know if you've noticed, but you're covered in vomit. You need a change of clothes, mister!"

"Where am I?" He tries to sound intimidating, or at least vaguely unaffected, and fails horribly. Five's voice fails him, hoarse and barely above a whisper. The Handler is enjoying this - he can tell. There's a slight curve to her mouth whenever she glances down at Five's small and pitiful form. She's in control here, and they both know it.

The Handler stumbles suddenly, jerking Five, and he buries his face into her stomach at the sharp burst of nausea. He can practically feel her smirk. "I don't know if I should tell you, Five," she sings as they continue down the hall. "What's the magic word?"

"Fuck you," he snaps. He hates this - weak, shaky, and feverish, stuck in the arms of a monster. "Fuck you." They enter the bathroom, grey and sterile, and she sets Five down on the toilet.

"That's not very nice," The Handler hums, running the bath water. "Say that you're sorry, Five." He's not, but she's walking towards him, and his powers don't work, and she's trapping him against the cold porcelain, and his powers don't work, and her sharp nails are digging their way down his neck, and his powers don't work-

"I'm sorry." He chokes out.

"I forgive you," she says, easily. "Now, let's get you into the tub."

"What the hell are you doing?" He snaps as her fingers reach to tug at the strings of his hospital gown. Five has no idea what she's planning, but he does know that the thin, flimsy fabric is the only barrier between him and her, and he intends to keep it that way.

The Handler chuckles. "You can't take a bath with clothes on, silly!'

"I'm not taking a bath while you're in here."

"Oh, but it's for your own good! I mean, just look at you!" she says slyly. Five bats away the hand reaching to stroke his cheek. "So weak and helpless... you're covered in your own sick. You need help. I'm a mother at heart, you know." Yeah, sure. She knows as much about parenting as his own father did. "You're so stubborn, Five. Fine, fine. I'll leave to get you some new clothes. If you slip and crack your head open, it's not my fault."

True to her word, she leaves, finally leaving him alone. There's no windows in here either, unfortunately, and the only vent he sees is far too small for even this stupid prepubescent form to fit into. The door is locked from the outside, and Five really doesn't want a repeat of last time.

Sighing, he unties the gown and steps into the lukewarm water. His limbs are still shaky and weak, and for a second Five really is convinced he'll crack his head open. Though it hurts to curl his fingers, he keeps a tight grip on the sides of the tub as he lowers himself down.

Some food would help him regain his strength - if his former employer is so obsessed with her little power play over him, maybe he can play to it and get something actually substantial out of it. If he bides his time, acting weak and nauseous, she'll get overconfident.

Maybe she'll even tell him where he is, to try and break his spirit.

For now, all Five can do is get clean. He tries not to focus on it too much - waste, waste, waste - and just goes through the motions as fast as he can. The only good thing is that the sharp pain in his head has dulled down to an ache. As he's wrapping himself up in a towel and stepping out, the door opens, and Five scrambles back, keeping the towel close to his body. "What the hell? Get out!"

She has the decency to keep her eyes closed, though that doesn't stop Five from fantasizing shoving her heels down her throat. "I'm just bringing you your clothes, Five! I even went through the trouble of getting something that wasn't a flimsy old hospital gown."

"I'm not changing in front of you-"

"I would never ask you to do that, Five," she huffs, eyes still closed, placing his clothes down onto the toilet. "I'm a mother, not a pedophile."

"Could've fooled me, seeing as you wanted to give me a bath."

"What can I say? You're only a little bit bigger than Lila when she was eight, and heaven knows she didn't know how to shampoo properly until she was ten."

"Well, I'm fifty-eight, and I do know how to take a bath by myself. Now, get out."

The Handler smiles indulgently. "Of course. I'll be right outside." Great. She leaves, the door locking with a click behind her. Thank god.

His fingers tremble violently as he buttons the red flannel shirt closed. It reminds him of something Vanya would wear, which brings him a little comfort. Vanya... does she think he left again? He has no idea how long he's been stuck in here. If they think he left, they won't look for him.

They won't look for him.

So what? It's only logical - you left once. Are they supposed to magically know you've been kidnapped? Get a grip, Five.

Sucking in a breath, he continues getting changed. The Handler had left him a pair of shorts that looked incredibly similar to his academy ones, and if it weren't for the fact that he had nothing else to wear, he would've gone out there and choked her out with them. Combined with some threadbare animal socks and black flats, Five is convinced she probably grabbed these at random out of Lila's closet just to piss him off. "I'm done," he calls out, not bothering to hide the bite in his voice.

She opens the door, giving him a wide smile. "Oh Five! You look absolutely lovely," she says, her hands fingers brushing the wet strands of hair out of his face. "Smell nice too."

"Fuck off."

"You really ought to be more polite," She hums, keeping a tight grip on shoulder and leading him down the cement halls. "You do want to eat, don't you?" They're approaching the same hallway from earlier, and though Five hasn't seen a single person, the vomit from earlier has been cleaned up, leaving the floors slick and shiny. The Handler opens the door to his room, pushing him inside. He doesn't bother fighting it - until he has enough energy, trying to run out would be suicide.

Still, he won't give her any satisfaction. "I'm not," His traitorous stomach takes that moment to rumble, and his ears burn at her smug smile. "Don't."

"Teenagers," she sighs. "Always so stubborn."

"You-" The door slams shut in his face, locking with a click.

When he wakes up again, he can smell spices and chicken. For a moment, he can pretend he's in his room, Grace bringing up a dish of soup on a cold winter's day when they've all inevitably gotten sick. The undertones of perfume ruin it. "What do you want." Five feels marginally better after getting some rest, but the sight of the Handler's face threatens to make him sick all over again.

"Lunch, Five." She holds up a bowl of chicken soup, waving it around almost playfully. "I'm not going to let you go hungry."

"Why are you really doing this? What do you gain from playing house?" He can't take this anymore. He's tired, and all he wants is to stay with his fucking family. Is that so much to ask?

She's silent for once, expression unusually weary. For someone who's usually so arrogant, so confident in her plans, it's... unsettling. "How about this?" She finally says. "If you let me feed you, I'll answer your questions."

"...Fine." He needs answers more than he needs his dignity. Smiling, the Handler spoons some broth and holds it up to his lips. Ears burning, Five opens his mouth. It's not laced with anything, surprisingly enough, and it actually tastes good, though he would rather die than admit that to her face. They sit in relative silence, her feeding him one spoonful at a time until the last drops are scraped from the bowl and down his throat. "I want-"

"Answers, yes, I know," she sighs, setting the bowl down. "Always straight to the point. How are your hands?" He's about to snap at her for changing the subject but... they do burn, despite looking unblemished. Now that he's regained his strength, it's worrying - he uses his hands as a conduit for his powers. His powers that still aren't working, he realizes, the little tear he's used to feeling in his chest clumsily stapled shut. With no way to release them, the familiar hum of his powers burning feels almost unbearable under his skin. "Not good, I presume?"

"Why do you care?" He snaps.

"I care, Five, because you're, unfortunately, the only hope of escaping this place." She snaps back, and the fact that she's told him anything remotely honest is chilling enough, but her next words leaves a cold pit in his stomach. "Welcome to the basement level of Hotel Oblivion, Five.”

...She's not lying.

"...Shit."

#sorry five #uh i didn't actually plan for him to be stuck in hotel oblivion lmao #kinda shoehorned it in tbh #whoops #tua #five hargreeves #the handler #my fanfic #my writing #bad things happen bingo #number five #he's suffering tonight bby

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