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joonberriess · 7 months

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⊹₊ ⋆ “love it when he hit and smack, too, baby lemme lick on your tattoos,”

TAGS — squat-riding!oc, porn without plot, messy sex, slight degradation, dirty talkin, creampies, oc is a nasty pretty thing, she’s cute, jk is pussy-whipped here, oc rides him so good she has him MOANING out loud, blasphemy(?) idk jk is a little devious, oc as a cute coquette and jk as her hot grunge bf, mentions of cum eating

WORD COUNT — 1.9 k

Jungkook knew he was fucked the moment that soft “Jungkookie” left your lips, you were all he could think about for days.

Could anyone blame him though? Even as he sat behind you with his large hands massaging over your soft feet, he still couldn’t believe he had gotten this lucky. “You’re so quiet.” You softly hum while tossing him a look over your shoulder, “Somethin’ wrong?” You purse your glossy lips in a soft pout.

“Nothing baby.” Jungkook gently squeezed your delicate calf, “Just lost in thought I guess.” He shrugs.

You stare at him for a few moments before pausing whatever was playing on your laptop, you turn on all fours and crawl towards him, “Tell me,” you stop in front of him—knees on either side and your face inches away from his, “I wanna hear it.” You softly say while eyeing his lips and chains appreciatively.

Jungkook admires your own dangling necklace with a tiny gold cross hanging so innocently. He licks his lips and sits up, “Do you? Or are you just saying that so you can distract me,” he chuckles breathily, “greedy little thing you are. Can’t even go one second without trying something.” He squeezes your cherub cheek gently.

You playfully pout and tilt your head, “I just wanted an excuse to say I’ll make you feel better,” you gently sway your hips side to side, watching with a tiny grin as Jungkook’s eyes follow your soft round cheeks sitting so perfectly in your pink silk shorts, “unless you don’t wanna..?” You softly breathe out.

Jungkook runs his tongue over his lip as he stares back at you with hooded eyes, “Don’t wanna what, hm?” He’s fucking with you of course, he just wants to hear it come out your mouth.

“Lemme ride it,” you innocently say, “don’t you wanna make it nasty and messy until your cum’s drippin’ out?” You purr softly while leaning in to kiss his cheek and then his jawline, inching upwards towards his ear, “ ‘m so wet for you Jungkookie, feel me,” you whisper while guiding his tattooed hand towards your shorts, exhaling shakily in excitement as he dips his fingers into your panties and slots them right up against your sticky pussy lips.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, letting you latch on to his neck as you marked him up like this was the last time you were going to see him, “You little fucking minx,” he grunts, “greedy little pussy can’t go one day without a fuckin’, baby’s so desperate for cock aren’t you?” He grabs your chin and forces you to face him, “Hm?”

You nod with a tiny ‘mm-hm’, “Always want you, can’t help that you fill my pussy so good… Always leaves me drippin’ n wanting more.” You softly say against his lips while grinding against his fingers, “ ‘s not my fault you made me like this.” You bat your pretty lashes at him and purse your lips.

Jungkook curses under his breath and meanly pinches your clit, “Then get to it since you wanna act like a little bitch in heat,” he pulls his hand out and lands a hard smack across your ass. You moan softly and eagerly clamber on to his lap, he attacks your neck in a flurry of kisses while wildly sucking over your soft skin, “so fucking soft,” he mutters, “there you go baby, go ‘head and take my cock out, wanna watch you ride it like the filthy little slut you are.” He whispers low.

You tilt your head and press your lips to his, your hand makes quick work of pushing his boxers down his thighs until they sit under his balls. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cockhead leaking precum, some of it dribbles down his shaft leaving a clear trail of pearly white on his cock.

“Can I..?” You ask ever so politely while begging him with those puppy eyes and your lip between your teeth.

Jungkook swallows harshly and nods, “Go on, not gonna ride itself.” He guides you over his cock, shoving your silk shorts out of the way and yanking your panties to the side with two fingers.

You bite your lip and position your sopping cunt over the head, sliding him through the sticky mess between your soft folds. There’s low squelching as you slide his cock over your sensitive clit and down to your winking hole. A low moan slips from your lips as your pussy hugs the tip, pink rim stretching to accommodate his thick cock. Your lips part in a ‘o’ after seating yourself firmly on his lap.

Jungkook huffs under his breath and lies back all the way while watching you with hooded eyes, “Not too loud baby,” he murmurs, “nice and slow—fuck, hear that, ‘s your little pussy dripping for me.” He lazily grins while throwing his arm behind his head, watching the way you rolled your hips in slow lazy circles.

“Mm.. ‘s not enough,” you quietly whisper while placing your hands over his abdomen, “can I? Pretty please, promise I’ll make it so good for you if you’ll let me,” you moan while rolling your head back, “ride it just the way you like Jungkookie.” You smile.

Jungkook bites down on his lip and holds back a loud groan, he can’t focus with the way you ride his cock like you’re trying to spell coconut on his dick. Your pussy hugs him just right as it drags over his sensitive cock, massaging his swollen shaft with the right amount of pressure and grip.

His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a muffled moan, “Fuck—yes baby, like that,” he grips your ass cheeks with both hands and moves you back and forth on his cock sensually, “feels so fuckin’ hot around me—nice n wet too.” He pants softly as massages both cheeks before smacking his hands against them.

You bite your lip—half-giggling, half-moaning—and move from his grip to bounce back on his cock a few times. Jungkook moans out and tosses his head back into the pillows, “Shit, like that—keep going.” You reach behind you to place your hands over his while you drag your pussy over his cock repeatedly, riding up to the tip before slamming back down.

Jungkook’s the one moaning and panting under his breath now, occasionally tiny little whimpers leave you but it’s nothing compared to Jungkook who looks like he’s getting the ride of his life. You slide your hips up slowly and then let your ass fall back on to his lap, your bubbly flesh rippling as they slap against his thighs. There’s a faint slick noise in the background as your pussy leaks over his fat cock, your creamy white slick dribbling down his shaft and to his balls.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out softly and pry his hands off your ass, he makes a wounded noise like it pains him to not be holding your ass. He lifts his head to look at you as if asking why, only to let out a long moan as his head slumps back, “Want you to fill me up,” you pout while placing your hands over his chest, knees knocked apart as you raised your hips, “want all of it in my pussy Jungkookie, promise I’ll clean my mess up,” your hips start moving sensually, you purposely clenched for that extra effect.

The bed rocked quietly under the weight of you two, it was accompanied by the dull thumping of your headboard knocking into the wall. To make things worse, your pussy was making these delicious little wet noises as his cock emerged with streaks of white creamy slick. He could see a white ring of slick form around the base of his shaft getting pushed back into your pussy and then coming right back down on his cock.

It was a fucking miracle your parents hadn’t come up to see what all the commotion was about. “Yeah?” He pants breathlessly, “Gonna be a good little cum dump and keep my cum warm in your sloppy little pussy?” He opens his eyes to look down at where your pussy meets his cock. You weren’t lying about making it messy..

“Mm-hm,” you moan, “promise. Not a drop ‘s gonna waste.” You huff and slam your hips down, rocking together before repeating the same thing over again. His cock hit that spot that drove you wild just right, and not wanting to lose the angle you kept fucking yourself back on him just greedily chasing the pleasure.

His eyes caught on to the dangling cross in his face, he watched it swing back and forth so innocently. Jungkook let out a poorly suppressed groan and looked up at your blissed out face in awe. You never failed to look so fucking pretty even in the throes of pleasure/sex. He’d for sure have a picture of you like this in his wallet or some shit.

“ ‘m gonna,” you quietly whine, “ ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper out while bouncing faster, “please, can I?”

Jungkook hisses as he slows you down, “Can you hold it in for me baby? ‘m so close too,” he whispers breathlessly while panting. He sees you give the tiniest of nods before he pulls you down so you’re lying over him, “Good girl,” he grits his teeth and begins plowing you from below, “good fucking girl.” He growls.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you hide your face in his neck, toes curling as he pounds his cock over and over again into your (already) sore pussy. “More, more, more,” you whine out while spreading your thighs apart a bit more.

Jungkook slaps his hips upwards as quickly as he can manage, his balls slap harshly against your ass as the sounds of skin on skin fill the bedroom along with your panting and breathing moans. He buries his face in your shoulder and bites down, not hard enough to bleed but enough for it to mark. His cock throbs and spurts of cum begin flooding your messy little cunt.

He doesn’t think he’s cum this hard ever since the night you both first started having sex.

You had let Jungkook take your virginity in the back of his pick-up truck, bent over with your bruised knees knocking into eachother while he fucked you like a man possessed from behind. Your poor little pussy was so swollen from the rough treatment, the pain and pleasure ended up becoming one and all you could do was beg for more while drool slipped from the corner of your lips. At a particular thrust Jungkook sent you squealing as you stood on your tippy toes, your pretty white sneakers contrasting Jungkook’s black boots as you whimpered and tangled your legs with his.

Jungkook’s mind blanks out as he reaches down to rub furious circles on your sensitive bud, he has you squirming in his lap as you clench down tightly before a low whine of his name escapes your lips. You both slump into each other until you roll off him and on to the bed next to him, “That was–”

“I know,” he replies, swallowing harshly, “you think they heard?” He turns to look at you.

You stare back with a dreamy look in your eye, “Dunno,” you shrug cutely before rolling over to climb over him, “but I feel empty,” you softly say and guide his semi-hard cock towards your pussy, “what? Gotta keep it in somehow.” You motion to your dripping cunt, you hiss in sensitivity before laying down on him, “So what are we eating?” You tilt your head with a cheeky smile.

Jungkook laughs breathlessly, “You’re seriously thinking about food?”

“Not me, I know what I’m eating.” You lick your lips deviously, giggling when you hear Jungkook moan in protest as his cock weakly twitches.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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misojunnie · 2 months

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DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)

does love ever cross the line?

# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au

# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim

# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s

# a/n: hi y’all! I got this request a long time ago and only recently got to it, so I hope y’all like! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist! pls enjoy <3

# word count: 13.2k

# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin open!

# unable to tag: @hohohobo

this was written upon anon request; check it out here!

when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.

[more under the cut!]

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Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.

“It’s too tight.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”

“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.

“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring.

“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”

“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”

“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”

“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.

“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.

Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.

He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.

“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.

“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”

“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”

“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”

“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”

“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”

“I hope so.” you laughed.

“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.

“Let’s show these people who our company is.”

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

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xxblairexxss · 9 months

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Pastries

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst / Fluff

I got carried away and it might be too long for your liking sorry about that! Not proofread!

Charles had asked you to tag along for his interview. It was a casual one. Even the whole set up looked less kind of a formal one and more like a hang-out amongst friends kinda vibe. He had promised to take you out to try the new bakery that had just opened this month and took over the social media the next second they started receiving customers but the invitation for the interview came in last minute and his team had already accepted the offer before asking him since they thought it shouldn’t be a problem considering the fact that he’s on a break.

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“What about the bakery? You promised me last week we could go there…” You hated to be the kind of person but Charles had promised you that he would leave out all work related stuffs and became your full time boyfriend for the weekend but all your hopes were crushed when he told you about his last minute schedule. You had been looking forward to try the pastries you had seen on your tiktok, the pastries videos that you kept on sending to Charles so you knew which one to choose when you visited the bakery.

“I know, baby. The team told me last minute so I couldn’t say no.”

“Then can we go after the interview?” You had been laying on his chest, your legs all tangled up with his while you had the new episode of Black Mirror playing on the screen. Now that you knew you won’t be able to spend time with him this weekend, the new episode was no longer worth watching.

“I can’t. I got another thing coming right after the interview, baby.” Charles knew you would be sad when he told you about his schedule because he had already promised you and though he couldn’t see your face, you didn’t look up to see his face after he mentioned about the interview, he knew you were upset.

“Then what am I supposed to do? I have already cancelled my plan with my friend..” Charles’s gaze followed your figure as you sat up straight and turned to look at him. You looked so dejected and he felt so bad for being the reason behind it.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Charles sat up along and placed his hand on your neck to plant kisses on your sulky face to which you tilted your face away and scooted away with your arms crossed. “Ouch, that hurts.” He tried to lean in for another attempt on kisses but failed when you leaned away again. “Baby, come on..I’m sorry, okay? I know I made a promise but I can’t not go to the interview or I’ll get in trouble. What if I bring you along? You can take over Andrea’s role.” He placed his hand on your cheek to move your face so you were looking at him.

“Will that be okay?”

“Of course. I don’t think there’s anything wrong having my beautiful girlfriend with me. Does that mean I’m forgiven now?” Charles tilted your chin so you would look him in the eye.

“Fine..”

“Can I get my kiss?” He slanted closer to catch your lips and you covered his lips with your palm. “Baby, this is an abuse.”

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When you and Charles arrived at the set, Charles had introduced you to every of the staffs. You had been together for more than 2 years but you rarely tagged along for any other schedules unless during race week. You didn’t really think it was necessary for you to go unless if you were to show your support for him.

You were sitting along the staffs, watching your boyfriend answering questions here and there while scrolling on your phone but one question pricked up your ears.

“Being Charles Leclerc, does that mean you can get all the girls you want?”

You looked up and saw he was trying to laugh away the question. “I don’t need any other girls. I’ve got the girl of my dream right there.” He pointed at you and the interviewer just laughed along before moving on to the next one.

“Have you ever had any girls who threw themselves on you?”

“I bet your body count is high. How much do you think you could reach if you were single and not tie with one girl?”

“If you were broken up with your girlfriend by today, when do you think you can get her replacement. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you.”

“If someone ask to exchange their girlfriend with yours for a one night stand, would you say yes? Surely the girl wouldn’t say no for a one night stand with the Charles Leclerc.”

You were getting more and more uncomfortable. Sure, the first time he was asked the kind of question, you could take it as a joke but seeing the way the interviewer disrespecting you over and over again, there was no sane woman who would just stand there and let themself being spoken as if they were an item. Charles did very well dodging every questions but it was getting on your nerves how he could laugh and played along as if you weren’t being treated like a joke in front of these men so you stood up and gave an excuse you needed to take an emergency call before walking out of the set. Charles’s eyes were trailing on you as he saw you leaving.

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“Baby, what’s wrong?” He took a seat by your side after they were given a short break.

“What’s wrong? Are you being serious right now?”

“What? I don’t get it.” Charles replied and you could sense a hint of dubiety in his tone as if you were a mad person for suddenly reacting this way.

“How could you not get it, Charles? They freaking disrespected me over and over with those questions and it never once occurred to you that they were treating me like an item?” You stared at him in incredulity.

“They were just joking. You can’t even take a joke now?”

“Oh, I can’t take a joke? You called that a joke? Try to have people talking about my body count and they told you how every guys could bang me if they wanted. Is that funny to you?” You sworn he was asking to be slapped in the face with the way he looked irritated right now.

“You are overreacting, Y/N. You can’t take everything seriously.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I was being disrespected how can you—“

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you along with me.” That did it. You went from wanting to explain from your side to just shut your mouth as you stood up and took your stuffs.

“I didn’t even asked you to bring me with you.” You could feel your eyes getting teary and not from misery of what your boyfriend just said, you were infuriated because he didn’t even bother to listen from your side and instead just turned it around and made it seemed as if you were the one at fault.

“Yeah, you didn’t ask me to bring you along but you were also the one who was so morose because I didn’t bring you to get that stupid pastries.” Charles stood up and scowled at you.

“Fuck you.” You immediately stormed away before he could see your tears slipping off and trailing your cheeks. You could hear him calling out your name but chose to ignore it. You hated how the argument went from you complaining to your boyfriend how you were being insulted to your boyfriend made fun of the things you told him.

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You were planning to grab a taxi and head home but decided to search for any bakeries that you hadn’t tried yet and the closest was 20 minutes away. You would have gone to the bakery that Charles had promised to bring you only if it was still opened. You hadn’t had any chances to explore Maranello that much even after being here for the countless times. The scenery, the buildings, the markets and foods were very distracting that you ended up playing tourist around the area.

In the meantime, Charles had to continue the interview and acted as if he didn’t just made his girlfriend upset 30 minutes ago. He tried to ring your phone but of course, all of them were declined.

“Charles, you ready?”

“Yeah? Yeah, I am.” He put his phone away and took his spot back in the centre as the interviewer went back to his spot.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Ah, she got some things to do.” Charles answered while trying to control his composure.

“Great, now we can talk like two single men.” The interviewer said as he took out his phone and cue cards to place it on the table.

“I don’t think so.” He awkwardly laugh and shook his head to the “joke”.

“Why not? We can talk about girls and sex. I was trying to control the topic in case she got uncomfortable but now that she’s gone, there will be so much more fun topics we could talk about. Something like what’s something you miss doing that your girlfriend didn’t allow you to do after you got into a relationship or if you were given a chance to ditch your girlfriend for a one night stand with any girl, who would it be. Nice topic to talk about, is it not?” The interviewer cackled, looking casual and laid-back even after what he had just said which caused Charles to placed his mic away and stood up.

“I don’t think I can continue this interview.” He was going to walk away when the interviewer stopped him.

“Why?”

“If you chose to continue this interview with those brainless questions then I won’t be able to do this.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my questions. If she found it offensive then that’s on her? Girls are always extra sensitive for something small.”

Charles scorned at what he just heard. He couldn’t believe he fought with you over something that was so obvious right from the start. “I refuse to associate with someone who doesn’t know how to respect my girlfriend. We are done here.”

Joris tried catch Charles to talk it out but he was gone in a blink without saying any words and he was left there so apologize on behalf of his friend.

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Charles spent 20 minutes looking around the area in case you were nearby as they had a restaurant and cafe not far away but you were not in sight so he went home thinking he would be greeted by your beautiful face but it was empty. He tried calling you again but none of the calls went through.

You had an enjoyable time of your life. It was as if you didn’t just cursed at your boyfriend and ignoring his phone calls like nothing happened. You went to a random small bakery that you saw on google, went to get an ice cream, and even ended up joining a balsamic vinegar tasting that you saw from a random website. It was nearly dark when you took a cab home looking all joyous and triumph.

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“Where were you?”

“I was…” You looked away, unable to look at your enraged boyfriend.

“Don’t you know how worried I am? You couldn’t at least text me back so I know where you were?”

“I got carried away.” You started twiddling on your phone charm, still unable to look at him in the eyes. You weren’t actually planning to ignore him all day long but you were too busy taking pictures and videos of everything and you kinda forgotten that you have a worried boyfriend waiting for you at home.

“You got carried away doing what?

“Doing some stupid stuffs.” You rolled your eyes and tried to step aside to make your way to the room but Charles grabbed on your arms which jerked you back.

“What stupid stuffs are you talking about?”

“Just some stupid things, Charles. It’s not important.” You snatched your hand away and walked to the room.

“Are you seriously still on this right now? Can we talk without arguing, please?”

You saw Charles following you into the room and stood behind you as you placed all your items on the dressing table. You could hear him gave a long weary sigh when he realized this conversation was going nowhere, again. “I am a girl who loves to overreact and can’t take a joke, ain’t I? Gotta live up to the nickname.”

“Y/N, can we please stop arguing. I was agitated the whole day not knowing where my girlfriend went and she came home acting all fine as if she didn’t just ignore my phone calls and you ended up pulling a fight again.” He turned you around by your waist so he could look at your pretty eyes and you saw how jaded he looked like.

“I’m not trying to pull a fight for fun. I’m just upset, Charles….”

“Okay, then can we stop wrangling so I can properly apologised? Tell me what did I do that made you upset with me so I can apologise for every single one. I already know the reasons but I didn’t give you a chance to explain earlier so you talk, I’ll listen this time. No fighting, okay?”

You chewed on your lower lip and felt your throat tightening. “I was upset because you didn’t want to listen to my reasonings. You acted as if I was crazy for reacting that way. I’m upset before you turned the argument on me. Upset because it was as if I was a burden for joining you on the interview. Upset because you called things that we talked and planned about as stupid.” A sob escaped from your lips as you covered your face with shaking hands.

Charles pulled you into his embrace but you didn’t hug him back. Your hands were still covering your face. “I’m sorry…”

“All these times I always thought you would always got my back but I was so uncomfortable and I thought you would understand me but I was blamed for trying to make a scene.” Your words came out as mumble from having your face covered and you could feel his arms tighten around your figure, latching you in his embrace.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry I said you were overreacting. I don’t know why I was too blinded to see him disrespecting my girl when it was happening right in front of me.” He broke the hug and stooped down to pull your hands away. “Let me see your pretty face.”

“And I’m upset because you called my pastries stupid. I know you gonna laugh because it sounds funny but I always thought I could talk about random things with you without having the fear of being judge.” Your lips trembled as you cried and wiped your tears every seconds, feeling like a fool now for crying over some foolish thing.

“Look at me, baby.” He stopped your hands from wiping another strand of tears and softly held your face. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I’m mocking everything you have ever told me. It wasn’t my intention. I was…frustrated and I ended up saying those things.” Charles pulled you back into his embrace and he could feel your body shook as you sobbed. “I’m really sorry, princess. What else should I apologise for?”

“Are you playing around right now?”

“I’m not! I genuinely wanted to apologize for every single thing.” He was quick to defend himself as you could feel him shaking his head.

“Did you….regret bringing me to the interview?”

“No, not at all. You know I didn’t mean that, don’t you? I like having you with me wherever I go.”

You stayed silent in his embrace and he stroked on your back until you were done crying and pulled away to find his green, captivating eyes. “Your eyes are all swollen now, baby.” He pecked on your eyes that were still wet from the tears. “Now that I’m done listening, don’t you think you got something to apologise to me too?”

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts and calls...”

“Please don’t do that again, okay? I was so close to lodge a police report for a missing person.” He sighed in relief. “Can you tell me where did you go today without us getting into another fight again?”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You told Charles about everything you did whilst he was dying from stress that you were ignoring his calls as you sat on the vanity cabinet and Charles took off your makeup for you.

“And then I saw these kids eating ice-creams so I decided to get one for myself too.” You showed him the picture that you took. “They have lots of flavours!”

“Really? And what did you choose, baby? Must be pistachio again.” Charles had been staring the way you were too engrossed in your little storytelling and thought he might have fallen in love all over again. “Baby, you and your swollen eyes look so adorable.”

“I know.” You circled your arms around his neck and smiled cheekily. “Oh! And I saw puppies! Like a bunch of them!”

“Yeah? Were they cute?” He brushed his lips on your nose.

“They were so cute! And so small too! They were running around and chasing each other.”

Charles pecked on your nose again. “You should have brought me along to do those fun things together.” His arms was placed on both sides of your figure, trapping you in his arms.

“I know, but you were to busy entertaining that prick.”

“I ditched the interview.” He nodded even before you could double check what he just said.

“Why? What happened?”

“I don’t like the way he was talking behind my girl’s back.” He slanted and begin running kisses all over your face again. “Wanna go to the bakery you wanted to go tomorrow?”

“Can we?”

“Sure, why not. I’ll buy you the whole pastries to make up for my mistakes today.”

“That’s a bribery.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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tojisbbygworl · 10 months

Text

He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader bonus~

Part 1 Part 2 bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the spider society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: 18+, NSFW, Handy, Edging/Orgasm denial

“Ah…”

“Oh-oh…”

“fffff…”

He didn’t think sex could feel like this, but here she was proving him wrong.

Nothing will ever be better than being balls deep inside her, but this wasn’t anything to be trifled with.

It felt so fucking good…but fuck he wanted to cum so bad.

Why would she play with his heart like this? The woman was torturing him. But, it’s his fault for telling her he wanted to explore in the bedroom.

He wished she would put her mouth on it already, instead she opted to jerk him off giving the most attention to his very sensitive tip.

It was all cool when they started, a small make out session that was getting more intense every passing second.

Then, “Wanna try something new today?”

Brain fuzzy from the kiss, he responded, “Yes, please.”

She got on her knees and unzipped his pants. Hobie watched her happily as she pulled him out, gave him on long lick, and pumped him slowly twisting her hands while doing it.

“Mm,” some pre cum dripped out his hole. “W-Will you…uhm…” he nibbled on his bottom lip while looking to the side.

He didn’t have to say it. She leaned over and gave him a sweet kiss right on his head. He throbbed in her hand.

“Oo, yeah,” he sinks into the couch with his head leaning back. “Yeah, do that again.”

She chuckled. “Okay, cutie.”

With each smooch, he groaned and thrusted into the air. Not only did it feel amazing physically, the sweetness of it gave him butterflies.

Then she pumped him faster.

He gasped and threw his head back up. With his mouth hanging open all he could do was watch and squirm.

A familiar warmth pooled in his stomach. “Oh, shit.”

“You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, baby.”

She smirked. Then she stopped.

Panting, he stared at her, his heart broken and his dick aching. “What? Why did you-? What did I do?” It was the most whiny he’s ever sounded.

“Is it because I still kept trying to tell you about Jujutsu Kaisen when we started kissing?” Head shake.

“Is it because I came in your eye yesterday?” Another head shake. “Then what did I do?”

You giggled at him like always. “Nothing, Hobie. It’s called edging.”

He lurched his head forward in utter disbelief. “You’re telling me this is a thing that people do? Just stop themselves from getting off?” Nod. “You’re taking the piss.”

“I ain’t never lied to you.” You started up again before he could respond.

The next 15 minutes consisted of pathetic whimpers and voice cracking moans.

“Please don’t-”

“Mmf, just let me-…fuck”

“Babe, please let me cum. Please?”

“Please, I need it. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll-no! Come on.”

“Please…yes…yes…”

“Oh yeah, I’m cumming.”

You quickly pointed his dick towards him. Hobie didn’t have time to react before a stream of hot pearly liquid lunged at his face landing on his mouth, cheek, and eye.

“Ha! Payback,” you cackle.

He gives a weak chuckle of his own, the fuzzy feeling of release coursing throughout his body hitting the tips of his toes. “Yeah,” he panted, “I guess you did get me back.”

When it was all said and done, you wiped his face off with a towel and he rested his arm over his eyes and forehead. “I kind of…” he swallows some spit. “I kind of like that.”

If you haven’t kissed your man on his tip yet…what are you doing

Part 1 Part 2 bonus ii

Masterlist

Taglist:@mxtokko@xoxobabe@avatar4eva@fadingpalacebonkpsychic@hobie-browns-bitch@anikaluv @urivl @kaaylvst@cozmicwonder@princessleila1818@fashominnie@gobblethiskitty@cumbermovels

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk smut #black reader #spider punk x reader smut #spider punk x black!reader #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader smut #black reader smut

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moonrisecoeur · 5 months

Text

gratitude — leon kennedy

author’s note: i don’t love doing taglists bc it’s kind of tedious but a couple people asked to be tagged so i’ll tag them in the comments of this post! please send asks/write comments/add tags to reblog if you liked this! that would be wonderful!

wc: 3.6k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, sugar baby leon, mommy kink, orgasm control, pegging, hickies mentioned. leon is 21 reader is ‘slightly older’.

warnings: mentions but not depictions of financial abuse, dubcon, and prostitution (seen in a negative light; we support sex workers here)

this is a birthday gift to angel! @angelofwoe go give her some love :)

—

5. 4. 3. 2. 1…

incoming call from ‘leon ken(nedy)’

accept or decline?

you look over at your phone while you’re waiting at a red light, driving home from work. you smile, like clockwork, leon calls you at exactly 5 pm each day, and most of the time, you’re coming home. to him. the thought still makes your heart jump a little bit. leon is waiting at home, your home, and now his home too, for you.

he’s waiting for you.

god, your stomach does somersaults. he’s perfect.

you answer the call, clicking it on and waiting for it to connect the two of you, “hello?”

“hey!” he says, and you missed his voice. you smile softly at his enthusiasm, “what should i get and/or make for dinner? don’t know if you trust me to cook in your kitchen unsupervised yet…”

“i would let you,” you say, looking out the window, “though maybe i’d stop by a cafe for dinner on my way home.”

“hey, c’mon now!” he tries to defend himself, but he laughs, god you’re obsessed with that sound, “okay, okay, fair. i get it. really, though, what’ll it be?”

you think for a second, and you realize that leon doesn’t really ever get a choice, he just goes along with whatever you want, “hmm… why don’t you pick, baby?”

he goes silent for a second, “you sure?” and when you make a sound of approval, even though he gave you a chance to back out, he sighs, “fine. don’t say i didn’t warn you when we’re eating chicken nuggets tonight.”

“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” you smile.

—

“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” he smiles at the sound of your teasing voice. he can’t help liking you. i mean, how is he supposed to not like you? not only do you take care of him, buy him nice things, but you’re also so fucking pretty? what the hell?

“anyway, i’ll see you soon, baby. miss me a little bit, but not too much, okay?” you tell him, breaking him out of the daze that is listening to you talk. he feels bad that he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying.

“y-yeah. i’ll see you at home,” he stutters, quickly hanging up, clutching his phone to his chest. home. your… home. god, this was bad. he was going to go insane one of these days if you didn’t stop being so goddamn perfect.

leon had this preconception forever ago that sugar daddies and mommies and whatever the hell else were always old, decrepit people who gave you money for basically doing your best not to gag when you see them naked. people you take advantage of, who you give your body to in exchange for being able to afford anything. it’s an exchange, sex for money (no, sex for power). which would make him a… prostitute? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t want to know.

but god, you are so much more than that, practically his dream woman. sure, you’re a little older than him, but it’s not like girls his age are soft and sweet with him like you are. they expect so much, they expect him to be the perfect boyfriend 24/7. he could do it, sure, but it would be an act. a desperate act of manipulation for him to get what he wants.

what does he want? well, that’s the tricky part. he tries not to let on too much how intensely this one thing affects him, even with you. it would be too much power to let you have over him, and you already have way too much.

truthfully, you… leon doesn’t like to think about it, but you could take advantage of him if you really wanted to. he’s so used to such an easy lifestyle, he can’t go back to struggling and barely paying his bills. you really could use him for the one and only thing he has to give you whenever you please, and it’s not even that he can’t stop you, because he knows he’s stronger than you, but he knows you could dangle your financial control over his head and he would be at your feet, on his knees in an instant.

he doesn’t know why he even bothers to think about it. he knows you’re not like that. hell, he looks at you with half decent puppy eyes and you’re sending him more money just because he looks cuter than usual today. if anyone is the master manipulator here, it’s him, not you. you have only pure intentions, and leon appreciates that even if he can never 100% trust it.

—

leon is a weird sugar baby. he doesn’t ask for things, he doesn’t use up all of his allowance, he doesn’t beg you for every shiny thing that catches his eye. he’s simple, not demanding, not exhausting you of every last penny in your account.

not that you would… really care? leon could do anything, absolutely anything, and you’d forgive him. he doesn’t need your forgiveness, not for the sassy little jokes he makes, not for the way he awkwardly says the wrong thing at the wrong time in conversation. leon was easy to forgive. easy to adore.

but, that's off topic. you try not to think about how lovable the pretty thing was. too easily you could get lost in him, never make it out alive.

he’s not demanding, he just uses your money to pay for his rent and take care of himself, his bills, his utilities and groceries, stuff like that. or well he used to use the money to pay for his rent, but now that he’s moved in with you, he doesn’t even have that expense anymore. he might treat himself and buy himself a little something small he normally couldn’t afford. the rest he’ll save.

can you blame the guy for being so cheap? he finished the police academy, but the job he had lined up fell through. so what is he supposed to do? work a minimum wage job? serve tables until he dies or his body gives out on him? sue him for wanting better for himself.

and so… he met you. he had no intention of using you.. at first. but even now he feels bad. he truly can’t get on board with being a sugar baby, he feels like he’s extorting you. you have to tell him each and every time his bank account number skyrockets that you will always have enough to continue your lifestyle, what's the point of just having the rest of it sitting around when you could be giving it to a pretty little thing like him?

still.. sometimes leon feels awful. can’t help it no matter what you tell him.

he just can’t really afford to say no to the money, because now he has all of his debt paid off and an emergency fund and a savings account for fun trips to take you on and another one for expensive gifts to buy you as a small, tiny, miniscule thank you. it’s only one part of how he really shows his gratitude. you’ve given him a better life than he could ever give himself, and he will never forget that.

how else does he show his gratitude?

–

you make it home, and immediately see the containers of chicken nuggets on the kitchen counter. you chuckle, again, endeared by leon’s choice of cuisine. it was what he wanted, after all, and you always let him have whatever he wanted. it’s so representative of him. they’re inexpensive, perfect for someone so frugal like him. they’re a comfort food, easy on the stomach, they’re delicious, and that’s probably all of the comparisons you could make between chicken nuggets and leon kennedy before you burst out laughing in delirium.

“oh thank god you’re home…” he says softly, reaching to grab your bag and your coat to put up so you can sit down, “i’m so glad you’re back, you must have worked so hard today.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his lips before doing so, and he’s immediately left dazed after just one little half-a-second long kiss. his eyes follow you as you collapse on the couch, “yeah, it was a long one. just glad to be back with you, baby.”

his heart aches for you as you sink into the couch, exhaustion present in your entire demeanor, seeping off of you through the cracks in your composure.

he knows what’ll make you feel better. or at least… he hopes he does. if you’re not in the mood, he’ll just laugh awkwardly and try to play it off.

he takes a deep breath in, bracing himself for the awkwardness that always comes with saying this word, “…mommy,” he whispers, and he immediately has all of your attention, suddenly all that exhaustion in your soul is replaced by an intensity that he can’t quite understand.

one word… and you’re already losing your composure? he didn’t know he was that good.

“baby…” you coo back to him, almost warning him. as if you’re saying, if you start this, you better be ready to see it through.

“wanna help you… feel better, mommy…” he says, his fingertips brushing against your thigh. fucking tease.

you always look at him like he puts the stars in the sky, but now? you’re looking at him like you want him seeing stars.

“you sure?”

“positive,” he mumbles.

again, this is all he has to give you. his love, his soul, his… body. he doesn’t want this to be transactional, sexual submission for money. he’s not a prostitute, but he genuinely has nothing else that even comes close to the value of gifts and money and just fucking everything you’ve given him.

you don’t ask for sex too often, even when he knows you’re horny. you’re so obvious but so understanding that your kinks and preferences are a little foreign to him. in his defense, he’s had one girlfriend right before he met you and she was the most vanilla person in the goddamn world. genuinely he could have switched positions on her and she would have thought it was too much.

“take me what you want from me, mommy,” he whispers, and yet for someone so inexperienced, he does it so well.

so well that you can’t help pouncing on him, pinning him underneath you. he feels your gentle yet firm grip on his wrists, the way your hair falls in front of your face as you hover on top of him, and he just has the softest urge to tuck it behind your ear. he can’t, but he wishes he could.

he doesn't get the chance to think about it much when your lips find his neck and he is immediately melted by their softness, their gentleness that makes him want to just break down and sob. he just wants to be treated softly, just wants to be held down and kissed like you’re doing right now.

“please,” he breathes, ironic because all you do is steal his breath away. your lips touch just over his subtle adam’s apple as you switch sides, pressing kisses into his neck, collarbone, and shoulder. he kind of wants you to bite down, leave red and purple aching bruises covering his neck, make him shudder and tremble with every love bite.

he knows you won’t.

“i don’t damage what’s mine,” you’d said once, and it left him dizzy. so casually asserting your ownership over him like that had his cock twitching in his pants. you very quickly learned to take advantage of his affection towards your possessiveness. you have to be subtle and you can’t do it too much, but every once and a while, you take your opportunity. you make your small little comments, you add ‘my’ in front of a pet name, you eye him like a piece of meat (intentionally being obvious so he’ll notice), etc.

your possessiveness is even better if it’s sort of objectifying. he might just like it more.

he wishes he could touch you, but what would it even be for? if you wanted him to make you feel good, you’d have shoved his face between your legs, tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, moaned as he ate your pussy while looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, so full of an emotion you wanted to study in detail. it couldn’t be love, there’s no way. you settle for something else, even if it’s less satisfying.

devotion.

—

and even with your cock buried deep, deep inside of him, stretching him open and filling him up entirely, he’s still got that same glimmer of devotion in his eyes, but that’s irrelevant.

it’s irrelevant because he’s a desperate mess of a man right now and it’s all you should be concerned with, “mommy, fuck, please, i—”

“say you belong to me, pretty boy,” you groan in his ear, his body shivering and trembling at the pleasure that’s about to hit him. he’s gotta wait for your permission, though.

“yours, yours, fuck, all yours, my fucking body belongs to you, you can- you can use it whenever you want, however you want, for however long. it doesn't matter,” he cries,’s his voice raspy, he trying to keep himself together and he’s failing miserably, “fuck, fuck, god, and i- my body… i owe you my body as a thank you for- oh, f-fuck!- for your m-money, i- it’s all i can give you that’s worth anything-.”

“…yeah? you owe me?” you smirk, pressing your hand against his lower stomach, feeling the bulge your cock inside him. it drives you insane. he’s babbling about something you don’t care to listen to. something about being indebted to you, that sex is him paying you back for how perfect you are. you don’t listen. it’ll just make you sad.

“gonna give me what i want, right? because you owe me,” you say. sure, you felt bad, but you never said you were pure good. you’re entitled to leon and everything he could possibly give you, aren’t you?

he tries to speak, but your cock always makes him as stupid as can be. he tries, oh he tries, to respond, to say yes, i’ll give you everything, i’m all yours to claim and keep forever, but the sounds come out as jumbled moans out of the back of his throat. he gives up trying to talk, clearly that’s beyond him now, and communicates his feelings by holding your waist gently, his fingertips pressing against your skin.

he moans out absolutely pathetically as you thrust in and out of him, keeping him held down with your hands pushing down on his shoulders. his body contorts to your will, his soul too. you could do anything to him and get away with it, with him in this beautiful headspace.

he’s gorgeous like this, and you take a moment to admire him. glassy, distant , tear filled eyes, sweaty blonde hair, skin little with small marks of whatever lip product you use. god, he’s nothing less than fucking perfect.

if only you both didn’t have responsibilities in your everyday lives because the only thing that could make him prettier is if he was like this every single day, fucked out of his mind, desperate, stupid from the pleasure of your cock pushing firmly against his prostate.

“gonna cum, baby?” you ask maliciously, knowing he didn’t have enough of his mind working to even register the question, “gonna give yourself over to mommy? live in her home, let her keep you as a pet? couldn’t leave her even if you wanted to, and you definitely don’t.”

he looks for an out as his eyes shift up at the ceiling, still somehow finding it in himself to be shy.

“look at me,” you growl, one hand moving to his face to cup his cheek, fingertips brushing against his jaw. he obeys, making weak eye contact, blinking the tears away from his eyes, “ask me for permission to cum.”

cruel? yes, because the most his stupid mind can come up with to say is that pretty name you make him call you, “m-mommy…”

you remember him looking at you confused, almost a little uncomfortable, when you said you liked that name. it definitely tracks, you’re his sugar mommy… and you expect him to call him mommy. not exactly revolutionary, but his hesitancy to do so is what makes these moments truly special. earlier, he said it intentionally, mainly to get your attention and get you riled up, distracted from work and responsibilities.

but now? he truly can’t help it falling past his lips. every time he says it, or more accurately moans it, he feels even more attached to it, attached to you. he’s imagined saying it more casually, in everyday conversation, but he could never get over how humiliating it felt.

you graciously let him call you by name most of the time, something he has been endlessly grateful for.

but in this headspace, leon can’t think of a single other word but mommy.

“c’mon, sweetheart. won’t get any easier to think with mommy’s cock deep inside of you. mommy can wait all night sweetheart, but i’m not sure you can.”

he can’t. he knows he can’t cum because you haven’t given him permission, but he can’t ask permission if you keep saying things that make him dumber and slower. he can hold off his orgasm for a while when he tops, he’s gotten decently good at that, but with your cock filling him up like this? he would be lucky if he lasted another minute.

“fuck- ah, mommy… m-mommy, plea…. please…” he breathes heavily, trying so damn hard, it melts your heart how badly he’s trying for you.

“please what, baby? you know i’ll say yes, just ask mommy what you want.”

wet cheeks and trembling lips from him make your heart ache for him. you’d give him anything.

“c-cum, mommy?…. c-can i…?”

you nod, biting your lip, almost more excited than he is to watch him fall apart, “mhm, ‘course, baby… let go for mommy, i got you… here…” you say, taking a hold of his cock to jerk him off through his orgasm to get everything you can from him, milk him for all he’s worth. his body tries to give you everything it can.

his eyes shut tightly as he gives you the loudest moan probably… ever? you’ve never heard him cry out like that, and you wish you could have recorded it to go back and hear it again. his voice breaks, and he takes a sharp breath in, holding it as his muscles tense and spasm until he’s left achy and exhausted and filled to the brim with pleasure.

“awhh…. so cute, baby…” you mumble, “c’mon, give me all of it, don’t make me make you cum again. if it’s anything like the first, you might just pass out, sweet boy.”

“ah… oh, oh my god,” he breathes heavily, twitching, “mommy… mommy, i- mommy, please… please, mommy,” he can’t stop thinking about it. mommy is all he can think about like this.

he cries, literally. the kind where you can’t help sobbing and sniffing and you curl in on yourself in a desperate attempt to self soothe. you half expected it; leon usually cries after more intense sex. he doesn’t know why, but usually he’s embarrassed of it and tries to hide it. he must just be too far gone right now to care.

you pull out, earning a desperate whine that makes you want to rail it back into him, balls deep, watch him squeeze his eyes shut tightly and him scream in pleasure, but you restrain yourself. he's crying right now. even though he would technically consent, he wouldn’t really want it.

you take 30 seconds to clean both of you off, and those 30 seconds are tortuous to him, even if you’re praising him the whole time.

that’s it. his greatest weakness. praise.

no, your praise.

to be told he’s good, to be told he did a good job, to be told you’re proud of him. he sobs as he soaks in your praise like a sponge. he wants to listen to your sweet words every single day for the rest of his life. you whisper to him how he’s perfect, everything about him is, how you adore him, wanna give him everything so he’ll stay with you forever, etc.

in his defense, he has absolutely zero control over what he’s saying right now, but he looks up at you, with tear-filled, red eyes, his bottom lip trembling just slightly, “you don’t have to give me stuff… i’m always gonna be yours.”

and it hits a nerve you haven’t felt in a long time. maybe it’s the subspace he’s in, or maybe you’re reading the situation wrong, so you don’t push it, but something inside your heart feels… off.

to put it bluntly, he shouldn’t be yours. he should find someone he could really love to spend his days with. there’s no reason for leon to stay with you if you stopped giving him money, paying his bills, and taking care of him. at least, there shouldn’t be?

oh, unless…

–

a couple hours later, you’re sitting at the kitchen counter with him, eating cold chicken nuggets and giggling about whatever you were watching on tv. leon looks at you a little differently than usual right now, his eyes softer, fonder than you’re used to. his eyes carefully track your more animated hand movements as you passionately explain something about this show. he has no idea what you’re talking about; he just likes hearing you speak.

he kisses the corner of your lip when you jokingly ask if you have anything on your face, which turns into a full kiss that leaves him a little breathless, that feeling of excitement and nerves returning in his stomach.

yeah, he thinks to himself, pure, unadulterated beauty.

as you kiss, he pulls back to look into your eyes, looking at you as if you held up each individual constellation for him, with a godly reverence that would almost turn you on if the moment wasn’t weirdly romantic.

“baby…?” your voice sounds shaky and unsure, and he doesn’t miss your lack of composure.

maybe that was a good thing. a sign.

he chuckles, “nothing, mommy… nothing at all.”

662 notes · View notes

halfvalid · 7 months

Text

the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore.

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two.

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you.

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.”

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship.

“The Going Merry?”

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours.

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!”

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.”

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below.

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky.

“You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away.

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself.

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon.

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.”

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.”

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.”

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.”

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.”

“Yeah, but I know swords.”

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.”

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.”

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?”

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.”

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.”

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.”

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area.

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?”

You snorted. “No.”

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?”

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.”

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.”

“Was that a question?”

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?”

Zoro actually smiled at that.

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?”

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.”

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was.

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh.

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck.

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength.

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack.

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.”

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you.

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.”

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.”

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him.

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted.

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.”

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect.

“He’s good, huh?”

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.”

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?”

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.”

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.”

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?”

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth.

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?”

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.”

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.”

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?”

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.”

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.”

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?”

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled.

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!”

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.”

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut.

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.”

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted.

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet.

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table.

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him.

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.”

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets.

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?”

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.”

“You don’t know why?”

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking.

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring.

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies.

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch.

Just your luck. It was Zoro.

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water.

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties.

Zoro was avoiding you.

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates.

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment.

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.”

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.”

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes.

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it.

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?”

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.”

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—”

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?”

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy.

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?”

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.”

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.”

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!”

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look.

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.”

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded.

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark.

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry.

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts.

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you.

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso.

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will.

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw.

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you.

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points.

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you.

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck.

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said.

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.”

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?”

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap.

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.”

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?”

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms.

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.”

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.”

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.”

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?”

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?”

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.”

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered.

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside.

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest.

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.”

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least.

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.”

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze.

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow.

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?”

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side.

“You know a lot.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn.

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?”

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned.

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?”

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.”

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?”

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.”

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.”

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright.

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again.

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch.

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh.

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.”

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them.

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.”

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.”

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat.

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?”

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.”

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.”

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.”

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection.

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut.

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.”

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else.

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest.

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #opla #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #opla fanfic #opla fanfiction #dracule mihawk #opla zoro x reader #kiki writes!

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neptunesbbby · 8 days

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Neteyam as your best friend

Tags (CW): Neteyam Sully x Fem!Reader, SFW, aged-up (16+), best friends, best friends to lovers, wholesome, sweet, tooth-rotting fluff, Neteyam as your best friend, reader can be na’vi or human.

Synopsis: How I think Neteyam would be as your best friend.

Word count: 800

Glossary: Kenten (fan lizard), Ma’ite (my daughter), Sa’nu (mom), Skxawng (moron, idiot), Syulang (flower).

A/N: Just thought I’d show Neteyam a little love as well! <3 Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors!

Best friend!Neteyam who has literally been attached to your hip since the day he met you.

Best friend!Neteyam who, when you two were little, couldn’t go a day without talking to you or else he’d lose his mind, and drive his parents crazy until he did.

Best friend!Neteyam who loves to spend all his time with you. No matter if he’s training, going on a hunting trip, or running an errand, he was going to bring you with him.

“Neteyam, could you go out and get these herbs for your grandmother? She needs it for when the war party comes back.”

“Can Y/N come?”

“…Yes, son. Yes, she can.”

Best friend!Neteyam who is the model Sully child, except for when it comes to you.

Best friend!Neteyam who, much to his parents’ surprise, breaks his curfew occasionally just so that he can keep hanging out with you.

“Neteyam we have to go, the eclipse is starting soon. Our parents will skin us!”

“Let’s just stay out here a little bit longer. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“… Who are you and what have you done with Neteyam?”

Best friend!Neteyam who is lowkey extremely protective of you.

Best friend!Neteyam who has always been your mighty warrior, even saving you from a fierce, “fire-breathing kenten” once when you two were just five.

“Ahhh, Neteyam help! What should I do? The mighty kenten is going to get me!”

“Don’t worry, Syulang! I’ll save you!”

Best friend!Neteyam who would (quite literally) take a bullet for you if he had to.

Best friend!Neteyam who teaches you how to fight and use a gun as soon as he learns from his dad that the humans are returning.

Best friend!Neteyam who glares at almost every guy that gets too comfortable with you when you two are older, almost intentionally being the reason why you’ve gone your whole life without actually receiving a proposal.

Best friend!Neteyam who is convinced that no one is good enough for you, (no one but him) and is determined to make you see that as well.

“I’m telling you, Y/N. Kan’ilu is no good. The skxawng can’t even hold his bow right.”

“You say that about everyone, ma Neteyam…”

Best friend!Neteyam who loves to tease you.

Best friend!Neteyam who loves to call you things like “love,” “honey,” and “darling” because he knows how flustered it gets you.

Best friend!Neteyam who’s love languages are touch and words of affirmation.

Best friend!Neteyam who lets you rebraid and oil his hair whenever it needs a little bit of refreshing.

Best friend!Neteyam who lies to you during training and tells you that your form isn’t correct even when it is, just so that he can “adjust your posture”. (He can’t keep his hands off of you.)

“No, ma Y/N. Your arm should be more like… this.”

“Neteyam, this is literally where I had it before.”

Best friend!Neteyam who has a surprisingly dirty mind to say he’s the most respectful Sully sibling.

Best friend!Neteyam who would sneak glances at the way your new top falls over your “chest” while you aren’t paying attention.

Best friend!Neteyam who rarely ever gets caught looking too long until Kiri catches him “counting” the stripes going down your back one day and decides to let him have it.

“Ow, Kiri..! What was that for?”

“Stop staring, Skxawng…”

Best friend!Neteyam who always acts like the model boyfriend around you, and makes sure that you take notice too.

Best friend!Neteyam who takes you out on mini dates to the floating mountains when you two just need a break from everything and escape from it all.

Best friend!Neteyam who is absolutely adored by your friends and family, your loved ones always teasing you, asking you when the two of you are finally gonna “make it official.”

“So… Ma’ite… Have you and Neteyam finally—“

“Sa’nu!”

Best friend!Neteyam who loves when you and his family are interacting with each other.

Best friend!Neteyam who would see you being playful with Tuk and immediately start picturing you and his life together.

Best friend!Neteyam who would still be too nervous to make the first move right away, even if the two of you were practically already dating.

Best friend!Neteyam who vents to his brother Lo’ak about everything and asks him for his advice on how to ask you out.

“Bro, what if I mess everything up? What do I even say? What if she doesn’t see me that way?”

“…You have got to be kidding me.”

Best friend!Neteyam who would go out of his way to make sure everything goes perfect when he does decide to ask you out.

Best friend!Neteyam who is made the happiest man on Pandora when you naturally say yes. <3

©️neptunesbbby 2024 || please do not steal, republish, repost (reblogs are fine), modify, translate or claim any of my works as your own on here or any other platforms, thank you!

#avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow neteyam #neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam headcanons #neteyam x you #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam avatar #neteyam fluff

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saerins · 1 month

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PREV: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS 𖧧 NEXT: #006 COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — the closer you get to itoshi sae, the closer you are to the part of it all that you’d rather skip: your mother, your problems, your baggage.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. tw: reader’s mom—calls her a whore. profanity, verbal abuse, switching povs, jealousy, unrequited love, making out. word count: 9.6k

༝༚༝༚ sorry for the absurdly long wait !!! as you know i was sick and out of it for the past week so this chapter was difficult to get out :( but anw it's here :) gimme a while more for those of you who asked for extras hehe but i hope you guys enjoy this for now !! mwah ily

“who? that guy that you’re always reported with?”

bianca sighs, her bad mood more than obvious to her manager, who’s been with her for three years now. considering she’s been there since her career started, bianca’s not surprised she can tell her moods from just a single look.

“yeah, he’s been… cold lately.”

at least, bianca seems to think so. sae hasn’t been this cold to her since they first got close. she’s biting on her lips, staring at their message thread, her messages going unresponded for a while now.

“bianca, you like him, right?”

her manager’s question goes unresponded, bianca’s lips tightly sealed. but that’s enough of an answer for her.

“why don’t you just tell him? who knows he might like you too? you two spend a lot of time together for two busy people.”

the words give her hope, but it’s not very many. bianca had hoped that after at least a year and more of getting to know each other that maybe sae would start to feel something, anything. it doesn’t look like it. he’s never once initiated hanging out with her, and no matter how many times she’s bugged him for something as simple as, for example, wearing his jerseys, he wouldn’t even budge.

what if people misunderstand, his lousy excuse. isn’t that just another way to say he doesn’t even want it?

“are you sure he’s not just busy?” her manager asks again upon her silence.

sure, that is the logical train of thought. sae’s one of the best midfielders the world has ever seen. not even counting that, he’s beautiful—a face and body that many brands would want to invest in, want help to sell their brand with. it’s entirely plausible that he has a packed schedule, and bianca would think that, if not for the fact that he’s been acting weird lately.

sae always plans his sleep—that’s why he refused her invitation to meet with her friends that night, isn’t it? he was tired and wanted to sleep, but he showed up the next day looking exhausted, more than bianca’s ever seen. apart from that, he even followed that mystery girl from that night; bianca recognises you from your profile picture.

who are you, exactly?

bianca finds herself scrolling through your profile—she already has your username memorised somehow. you don’t post much, and you don’t really post anything with anybody, just things like scenery from work travels and activities like baking, and you’re not tagged in much either, except for this one girl named sumi. still, all she’s able to gather from you is your name and that you work at a sports magazine.

is that all you want from sae? interviews and favours?

it better be.

“anyway,” bianca’s manager sighs as she prepares to go home for the day, having settled everything else regarding bianca’s schedule. “you have the whole week free after tomorrow, you should go to japan and surprise him if you want. maybe take some of that anxiety off,” she suggests, noting that bianca’s face will be perpetually pouting if she doesn’t get to the root of her questions.

on the couch, bianca sits up, the idea registering in her head, grinning from ear to ear. “you’re right,” she agrees, immediately making arrangements to fly to tokyo. “i’ll do just that.”

she’ll go to tokyo, she’ll talk to sae and try to wring it out of him. if it really is nothing, then great, but bianca’s already planning her next course of action if it isn’t.

bianca doesn’t know who you are just yet, but one thing she wants you to get clear in your head: sae is hers and hers alone.

maybe not now, but one day she’ll make it happen. and until then, she doesn’t want anyone to cut in.

you blink and stare in shock as you see the heart on your screen. it must be accidental. has to be. sae doesn’t look like the type to send hearts. you shake it off, bringing yourself back down to earth.

it’s the next day after your drinking session with otoya and the others. your mind’s pretty hazy; you don’t really remember much especially on the later half of the night—you only remember taking a leap of faith and dragging sae into seven minutes of heaven with you. you’re sure you did nothing at all, except talk, but even what you talked about is pretty foggy. what you do remember is that he said he isn’t involved with anyone. you smile just thinking of it.

maybe it’s stupid, possibly falling head over heels for someone like sae who has many more admirers than you can imagine, but you can’t stop yourself from seeing the signs that he’s sending you.

just his texts are proof alone—you know he’s not someone who wastes his time on people he doesn’t see in his future. and you want to think that he’s not treating you like this over something as simple as pure friendship. but you don’t want to get your hopes up. you don’t think you’ll actually believe it until he tells you himself.

after all, there’s still the whole thing with bianca. even if he says he’s not involved with anyone, with the way all the other guys talk about her and sae, you can’t help but feel there’s something more there. but maybe that’s not something you have to concern yourself with for now.

yeah, because right now, there’s an even bigger monster that stands on the other side of your door, pounding on it like the world will end if you don’t answer her. her shrill voice is enough to give you headaches that could last a year, and her demands—even worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, if you don’t open this damn door before they get here i’m gonna kill you myself!”

four minutes now that you’ve been ignoring her. she hasn’t stopped to take a breath. it must be really urgent. she must’ve screwed up really bad. again. you’re pretty tired of it. you wish you’d given up on her already. sometimes.

there’s a stack of cash in your hands that you’re fiddling with. your hard-earned money. yours to supposedly spend as you please. supposedly. but what’s yours hasn’t been completely yours for a while now.

begrudgingly, you yank the door open, your eyes just short of a speck of anger—your mother’s wide eyes are much worse, not a speck of affection for her own daughter. you wonder why your own flesh and blood looks at you like that. you remember how kind sae’s eyes are; why can someone like him look at you like that while your own mother looks like… this?

“here. payment for this month, like i said,” you huff, nearly earning yourself a slap across the face again, except your mother’s holding it in. probably for a more appropriate time.

“not enough. need a bit more.”

you squint your eyes at her in disbelief. “you borrowed even more? we can barely afford—”

“then make yourself of use like your father was!” she cuts in, the disdain in her voice clear, like the day used to be. “really, all you need to do is not be a bitch by talking back and you can’t even do that. i should’ve aborted you when i got the chance.”

she spits those words out as if there was never a day that she loved you. she says them as if she was forced to have you. she storms off as if she has any right to demand you for anything.

you shouldn’t be abiding by them, but you can’t help it. the old picture of you and your parents when you were ten sits sourly at the edge of your study table, their once perfect smiles all smeared by recent memories, fading away as if they were just a fever dream.

“mom and dad will always love you, okay?”

is it a crime to want that loving woman back?

eita would be a good person to talk to about all this, given he knows a fair amount, but he doesn’t know how truly bad your mother’s gotten, and you’re not sure you want him to. you’ve burdened him enough, making him constantly worry about you even when he’s busy, and you’re not sure how much of it you can take from him without starting to feel guilty all over again.

and a part of you wants to warn sae that if he doesn’t want anything bad staining his reputation that he should stay away from you. but there’s the dominant part of you that wants to pursue what you want, without guilt or having to think about others, that wants to give yourself a chance at what makes you happy.

your mother has a tendency of taking them all away though. it wouldn’t be the first time.

for the first time, you find yourself wanting to count on someone other than eita, and for entirely different reasons. you’re texting the person who makes your heart beat faster without a second thought.

your fingers hover hesitantly over the send button. your mind plays the memories with shiro all over again. he used to give you the same feelings sae did. he used to make you think he was all green flags and clear skies and it’s eerily similar to what you feel now.

can you really trust yourself with this?

clumsily, your thumb deletes everything, putting in its place a lame excuse—i’m just feeling the monday blues kicking in early, save me.

maybe one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him about it. yeah, one day.

“why haven’t you told him yet?” eita asks you the next day, when you’ve given up holding strong in your house and decided to defect to his.

you’re out on his balcony, leaning against the back of the chair, enjoying the rare chilly weather of the afternoon. eita’s beside you, barely awake because he always sleeps in and today you just so happened to intrude on some of that time.

sae, for the most part, entertains you whenever he’s free, even now he’s still replying you. but no matter how good your life gets, you can’t get the ick of staying with someone who doesn’t really love you away. hence why you’re here, seeking escape once again. albeit in a different way than you used to.

although, with all the questioning you’re receiving, you think maybe you should’ve just toughed it out. still, you should’ve expected this topic to come up sooner or later. it’s not unreasonable for eita to get worried when you seem to be seeking him out more than usual anyway.

you sigh, it’s a headache that you’re too used to blocking out that when eita asks you about it you’re not too ready to answer him. “and say what? ‘hey, by the way, my mother’s a perpetual gambling addict who will ruin your entire reputation if word gets out at all’? no thank you.”

there’s a small pause when eita thinks your words through.

“what, you didn’t think of the same thing when hanging out with me?”

you look pointedly at him, arms crossed, wind swirling through your hair. “that’s different, we’re best friends, eita.”

eita chuckles, stretching his hand out and laying his head against it on the wooden table, staring at you. “what’s this now? so you got a crush on sae, huh?”

fuck. you curse at yourself internally when you realise what you’d just confessed to.

“didn’t know you two were even talking,” eita mumbles, maybe to himself with how soft he is right now. “guess it makes sense. that guy wouldn’t have taken care of you the whole night if there wasn’t something going on.”

you mirror eita’s position, looking back at him. “don’t tell me too much, but… is he like this with bianca too?”

yeah, you hate yourself for asking about that to someone who’s not sae, but you want to know what eita thinks. because unlike oliver and the others, you trust eita.

there’s a look that he gives you that you’re not too sure what to make of. it’s gentle, and a little unlike him that you might confuse him for actually being half-asleep and caught in his dreams. but he shrugs, looking away, “i mean, there’s a difference in the way he takes care of you two. if you ask me, if bianca asked him to stay he probably wouldn’t. if it came from you, i think he would.”

eita wants to do the opposite, lie a little and maybe turn you away from his friend. but it’s you. it’s someone he could never lie to. not anymore. and he’d rather stay your best friend than get blacklisted for lying to you.

he sees you heaving a sigh of relief.

“you really like him, huh?” he meant to say that in his head, but the words just roll off his tongue.

there’s a lot of other things you’d usually say to distract him and force a change in subject, but given how much you’re already keeping from him about how bad your mother’s really gotten, you feel like you owe him some form of transparency somewhere, as thanks for keeping you sane most of the time.

“yeah, i think so,” you say, the only hesitation in your voice coming from the fact that you’re not sure if you should be telling eita about this.

for his part, he isn’t falling apart. maybe because all along he knew somewhat that this day would come and that he still wouldn’t be ready, still wouldn’t be able to say he wants one person and one person only. but you’re already there. you’ve always been.

“first time you feeling this way?”

“eita, let’s not go there.”

“why not?”

you stop the conversation from going too quickly, regaining the balance. “so… it was true, then?” there’s a reason you say it in past tense. you hope it’s not still true, from a selfish perspective.

eita’s forced laughter is enough of an answer. he still graces you with an answer. “it still is, i guess.”

for the first time ever, the both of you are addressing this. a few years too late, admittedly, but considering you’re two people who hate being straight with each other about these things, it’s progress.

you remember the day the signs got too real to ignore. it was the day you ran. it was the day eita denied everything because he didn’t want you to but still lost you.

A FEW YEARS BACK

“yeah? you’re not gonna even tell me that things between us are off?” he spat, the frustration seeping through his voice, disdain on every syllable.

eita never used that tone of voice on you until that moment.

it was raining again. just like that night he first kissed you. you thought it would forever mean nothing, you thought it would be something comfortable—for the both of you. something with nothing attached.

“answer me, then. you really gonna date that fucker shiro of all people?”

eita was young, and his fame was steadily rising. he had multiple people throwing themselves at him, wanting anything he could offer and yet everything he was offering to you, you threw away.

not that you necessarily knew what was going on in eita’s head, but given how you were acting, you might have an idea. that was why, right? that was why you were pulling away.

there’s thunder, and dozens of cars passing by, rainwater covering the both of you from head to toe because eita saw you for the first time in weeks and he just couldn’t wait to talk to you any longer. you had been avoiding him for so long now, were you even friends anymore?

your normal cheerful expression was clouded over, your glare more than enough warning that he shouldn’t be doing all of this but eita wasn’t going to stop no matter what. not until he got everything out. he was going to wait until you responded to him because you were apparently so fucking good at avoiding people.

“and how is that any of your business?”

eita barely recognised the person talking to him. since when did you learn to hate him that much?

“oh, i’m sorry, i must’ve missed the fucking memo that we weren’t talking or fucking anymore,” eita spat, the sarcasm dripping off his tongue something he used to use on everyone but you. not now, though. he was too angry for that.

you scoffed, walking one, two steps forward, both of you just an arm’s length apart. “then hear this, eita: we’re not fuck buddies anymore, and i have a boyfriend, so just stay away, okay?”

there were multiple voices in his head screaming not to say what he wanted to say at that moment, screaming at him that he would regret it, but he didn’t listen. his eyes wide, a sneer on his face; he was determined to look more vindictive than you were right then. “oh wow, y/n, didn’t know you were such a slut like your mom, giving it to whoever has more moneybags,” he mocked, more than aware of the hurt in your eyes but his temper was bad, and he couldn’t stop himself. “you know what? maybe you deserve all this shit, then, since you’re the same.”

the slap you gave him that day was the second hardest you’d given him in your life, maybe because a part of you was too distraught hearing those words from him that you weren’t in your best condition. that, and maybe the rain. but you ran away crying, as much as you tried to hide it. but eita had been in this position before, had seen what you looked like while running in the rain with tears in your eyes though you tried to mask them as the rainwater. you never liked to cry in front of him, and you never did.

and then, he was the reason you cried. the one person who you thought would never do that.

that night, as you ran straight into your boyfriend’s arms, you thought maybe you deserved it for not being able to deal with other people’s feelings properly. it wasn’t eita’s fault for having emotions, and it most certainly wasn’t his fault that he didn’t want to tell you about it. but you could feel it.

you felt it in the way he tried to hold your hand while walking alone. you felt it in the way he tried to hug you to sleep after he fucked you senseless. you felt it in the way he wasn’t seeing anyone else anymore. it wasn’t that you didn’t care about him, but with everything that was going on, emotions aren’t such a simple thing that you could handle, after all. especially if you didn’t feel the same way.

it was supposed to be a pair of best friends, using each other, nothing more and nothing less and you couldn’t take the heat when you felt eita wanting more. maybe you should’ve done it differently. maybe. and it was funny that you could tell how he felt about you yet at the moment, you couldn’t tell if he meant what he said.

and maybe if you knew better, you would've asked. no, if you knew better, you would've talked to him about it.

but it was all too late.

PRESENT

“oi, snap out of it.”

eita’s normal snappy voice brings you back to where you are, in his balcony sitting and supposedly enjoying the view, because when you’re high up here it almost looks like you have no troubles in life—at least, not the ones you have.

“look, i’m not gonna ask you to ignore what i just said,” eita says, sighing before he looks you straight in the eyes, his green irises much warmer than they used to be. “but can i ask you a favour?”

it takes you a while to respond, only because you can’t tell what he wants from you. your mouth opens slowly and carefully, “what?”

eita scoffs, and this time it’s not in disgust and you can tell. you can tell his mannerisms a lot better now. maybe because you’re both adults, and more transparent. maybe because you both had already lost each other once and know what that felt like, and maybe you both don’t want it to happen ever again. you don’t really know about him, but to you, no one can replace him in your life. his presence is too significant for that.

“stop looking at me like i’m a lost puppy.” he’s scowling now, downturned lips softening just a little, into a pout.

you snort, containing your laughter. perhaps you’d been thinking a little too much about it that you’re starting to look at him with pity. “yeah, okay.”

“that isn’t the favour.”

“then what is?”

he carries a straight face as he talks to you now, his fingers coming up to flick you softly on the forehead. he’s always felt like family to you. sometimes you wish he was. and for his end, he looks at you, knowing that the emotions he has will forever go unreciprocated, and yet he can’t stop being dumb by trying anyway. he knows, already, just by looking at the difference in the way you treat sae, in the way you look at him. you’re so smitten, and if eita even stood a chance, you would’ve been together already. and sometimes he wonders if what he said that night was what pushed you over the edge, was what solidified him as nothing more than just a friend with a temper too harsh sometimes that you didn’t want to count on even if you had no one else.

there was a fault he could find in the way you pushed him away. but there’s more that he can find with himself for saying what he said to you. he still counts himself lucky you never held a grudge with him over that.

eita chuckles under his breath; he can’t believe he’s about to say something so corny but he doesn’t know how else to tell you. “i kinda don’t want our friendship to change,” he explains, and he has to look away because if you’re going to run away again, he doesn’t know how he’ll take it. you’re about the only person who knows every single side of him. sides he doesn’t normally show to people. “so… don’t fucking run away again, or treat me differently just ‘cause you know how i feel. that just makes me feel fucking pathetic.”

because he knows you only pushed him away since you couldn’t reciprocate. you weren’t a slut, and you surely didn’t deserve any of your unfortunate circumstances—nothing he said that night was true. you only had good intentions, and the words that came out his mouth were only bad.

even until now, he hadn’t apologised.

yet here you are. smiling in front of him, for him, because of him. despite everything shitty going on in your life, here he is, asking you for a favour. and you’re nodding your head, preserving the friendship that you needed to stay a friendship, just like you’ve always been.

“okay, i promise,” you say, a childish smirk on your face as you hold your pinky out, to which he obliges and hooks his own around.

“you’re so dumb, i wonder what he sees in you,” eita sighs as he yanks his pinky away.

you’re laughing, the earlier bad memory already whisked away by the sunlight hitting your face. “who?”

“sae.” you freeze on eita’s words, but eita does you a favour and pretends he doesn’t see, doesn’t tease you about it. he wants to know about all of this, even if it’s just from the jealous perspective of being the throwaway option. “he treats you like…”

“like what?” your voice quivers a little, because you’re nervous. you always are when it comes to itoshi sae, somehow. (you won’t admit that right in front of the man himself though, too embarrassing.)

“like he likes you.” eita has to swallow the lump in his throat. it sucks to be talking to you about this, to possibly be talking this guy up, but he knows you need a friend. and he knows you don’t open up easily, so he has to be your best option. eita looks at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if you’d open up a little bit more.

there’s a faraway gaze in your eyes. “eita?”

“yeah?”

this time, that gaze focuses on him, a warm, sad smile on your face. looks like the pity hasn’t fully worn off, but he’ll excuse it this time.

“thanks,” you say, so softly.

looks like you aren’t really ready to talk about it yet. eita rolls his eyes jokingly; trying to be just a best friend seems pretty hard after all. “stop being a sappy piece of shit,” he groans, earning a giggle from you.

somehow it feels nice, being able to take away some of that pain, even if just for a small moment. though, maybe you’d have an easier time around sae, if you would just learn to open up.

“and hey, if you’re still too scared to tell him about any of it, you can still find me, ‘kay?” he tells you, and you nod appreciatively. you probably just see him as a big brother by now. “and if your mom’s still giving you trouble, come by anytime, i’ve been too busy nowadays to bring anyone home anyway.”

you gasp, acting shocked. “oh really? wow, a changed man.”

“mhm mhm, i just fuck ‘em in the club.”

your playful jab on his arm comes faster than it usually does.

you wonder if you can ever repay eita for everything he’s done for you—be your punching bag, letting you stay at his house rent-free sometimes, accidentally ruin his date night others. you think of how he feels about you and you think probably not. you probably can’t ever repay him for how much sanity he’s given you back when you were at your lowest. so maybe you’ll start by not running away this time.

but your mind drifts to his words. you’re going to have to tell sae some time, but you know how it turned out the last time you told someone with such a high status about it. you remember how shiro turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how his warm demeanour changed when it suited him, how he used everything to lord over you.

you wonder if sae will be the same. you don’t even know if these feelings are fleeting or not. are they even worth it?

is sae going to be worth a try? or is he just going to turn out just like shiro?

yeah, you’ll take your time telling him. you want to get to know him, so it’s hypocrisy from your end, but if he’s a good guy, he wouldn’t mind waiting—that’s what you tell yourself, because like hell do you want him to know about your family as you are now. pathetic, scrimping from paycheck to paycheck, desperately clawing your way up into a normal class. next to him, you’re too inadequate.

but then, why is your gut telling you otherwise?

sumi comes bounding in on monday morning, straight to your desk after her morning meeting with the boss. she looks exceptionally happy today, her eyes beaming bright and her smile nearly infectious.

“i swear to god, i think my hard work is paying off!” she exclaims excitedly, careful to keep her voice down even then. she bites on her lower lip, suppressing a grin when she passes you a proposal she’d done up.

on the first page, it’s titled as such: proposal, by suzuki sumi. when you flip to the second page, you’re overwhelmed by a huge close-up picture of one of the top players in soccer right now—isagi yoichi. she giggles when she sees your face contort in surprise, nodding in excitement.

“let’s just say, thanks to a friend of a friend, i managed to talk to isagi at the airport and he personally agreed to do an interview with us,” she proudly explains, answering your unspoken questions. she’s already happily chattering away about her plans for when his interview’s booked—which you learn is still a few weeks away, and may be delayed depending on whether his schedule has any last minute changes.

“that’s lucky,” you comment, passing her proposal back to her. there’s pages and pages of meticulously planned questions and interview segments, along with possible video footage they could do to add onto the company’s youtube account. sumi’s obviously enthusiastic about all of this, more than you’ve ever seen her since you first spoke to her.

it’s nice to see sumi finally happy for once, given how hard she’s been working at this company. she’s the first friendly face you saw when you first came here anyway, and had it not been for her, your work life probably wouldn’t feel as warm as you do now.

“i know, right?” she sighs, content, dreaming about how the interview would go already, about how happy the boss will be with her once their numbers skyrocket. after the lifeline you threw for them by somehow getting to know itoshi sae, it’s been hard for anyone else to keep up. she smirks at you, “remember what i said on your first day here?”

sumi had said a lot of things, actually. most of which were mostly gossip and not actual work, but you can guess what she’s hinting to. “yeah, that it pays to have connections, right?”

you remember those words, only because you’d unintentionally thought back to eita once she’d said them. your attention flits back to sumi, who looks wantonly relieved—she must’ve really been worried for herself then, considering how bad the job market is right now. she never told you, but you could sense she’d been worried about her performance, and whether or not she’d get enough bonus this year to have that dream wedding she’d always cooned over.

“mhm, and you have two indispensable ones yourself,” she points out, winking, taking a sip of her coffee. “otoya eita and itoshi sae, while i’ve just now gotten isagi yoichi.”

she spends the later part of the morning texting you about how she’ll need your help to pull it off, while you juggle work, sumi and apparently sae at the same time, because for some reason, he’s gotten real chatty over the weekend. not that it’s unwelcome—it’s a pleasant surprise.

right, because when you’re out with sae, who has a heck of a pr team—people who make sure to keep him in line, you’ll have to be careful. you can’t let just anyone see you out and about with him, not when he has a ton of crazed fans who would probably butcher you just for dating rumours. your mind drifts off, wondering how bianca deals with it. though, considering she comes from a long line of famous figures, you guess she’s used to it, having to grow up with all that attention around you.

you look at the clock—it’s around ten minutes till your work day ends. your heart speeds up at the notion of seeing him again, even if it’s only been two days since you’d seen him last. you wonder how you’re going to survive if he has to be away for months at a time for his games if you’re already yearning to see him this much now. shaking the feeling off, you straighten up, retreating to the bathroom to freshen up before you go.

at the same time, parked in the corner lot, sae stares at the caller ID on his phone as it vibrates, surprised. he picks it up, wondering why she’s calling when it’s probably late wherever she is.

“hey, it’s your favourite girl,” bianca’s voice squeals over the line. “guess what?”

“what is it?” sae is, for the most part, not too surprised. bianca has a habit of calling him a lot of the time. more and more frequently nowadays. he wonders why.

“i’m in japan right now,” she reveals, giggling, and sae finds a bad feeling dawning over him. “pick me up? i just got to the airport.”

“sorry, can’t pick you up tonight.”

“what? i thought you’re gonna be in japan for a while.” he can just hear the disappointment in her voice.

“yeah, but i’m busy now, so…” sae trails off, not knowing exactly if he should say anything about you.

“oh, with the guys? you could just skip out on—”

“nah, it’s with someone else,” he settles for, wondering what the sudden silence from the other end of the line means. he’s not sure he wants to find out right now, so he’ll have to talk to bianca some other time. “i gotta go—”

“are you going on a date?” bianca’s tone seems more inquisitive than he’d like, but her question has him thinking.

is this a date?

bianca stays silent as he ponders about it, waiting with bated breath because this is the first time in two years that sae had ever rejected her request, and judging by how he’s struggling, he’s undoubtedly meeting a girl. is it you? she curses under her breath as she pushes her hood over her head, determined not to let anyone see her sweat right now.

“yeah,” sae says, the decision coming to him as soon as he sees your familiar face approaching, that polite little smile on your face. “i’ll talk to you later.”

indignant, bianca exhales sharply, her temper taking over her as she huffs a “don’t bother” into the receiver before hanging up.

sae looks down at his phone, staring at her name on the call log. he makes a mental reminder to check in with her later, but for now, he shoves that thought aside—tonight, he’ll focus on you. just you.

and when you effortlessly command all his attention by slipping into the passenger seat all too naturally, he thinks that whatever ripple effect this may cause may be worth it. for him. and now, it’s his mission to make it worth it for you too.

“so,” you say, all sparkly-eyed as you look at him excitedly. “where are we going tonight?”

you thank god that you decided to dress up a little more today when you see that he’s taking you to another high-end place. this time, it’s on a rooftop of a five-star hotel, with views overlooking the tokyo skyline; a view you never thought you’d actually see in person.

it’s breezy enough up here that it’s not too stuffy, and there are step lights and string lights all around the venue but they’re dim enough as to not reveal sae’s face too much. (not that anyone hear even bothers to look at anyone else passing by, all too engrossed in their hushed conversations.) you notice he’s always handsome no matter what he wears—and today it’s a black button-down shirt with black pants, a casual dark jacket hanging over his shoulders. your eyes linger over the little bit of his chest that you can see; you can tell he’s muscular under there.

“distracted much?”

sae’s voice startles you, and you can see him smirking a little as if he knows what you’re thinking. your cheeks heat up a little, acting coy. he’s reaching a hand out, probably something you didn’t notice while you were deep in your thoughts, and you take it, letting him lead you slowly to your seats.

as you take a seat and the waiter hands you the menus, your eyes flick up, looking at the man across from you. he reads the menu silently, and you notice the sliver of black ink that extends across his palm. it takes all you can to suppress a grin.

“i can always give you another one anytime, you know?”

for some reason that you probably know, sae catches on to what you’re talking about pretty quickly, the dim lighting failing to conceal the way his ears turn red. “so you like giving me hearts?”

you don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice, having to conceal your own nervousness. “i think you’re the one who likes receiving them,” you quip, hiding your face behind the menu.

there’s a rustling noise, rousing your curiosity and making you put the menu down. sae doesn’t respond to your earlier comment but he does give you a tiny smile, putting a two-pack of macarons on your side of the table. he must’ve taken it out of his pocket while you weren’t looking.

“what’s this?”

“macarons,” he shrugs, though you’re not really asking that. he picks up on it. “i was in paris for some event over the weekend. thought you’d wanna try that.”

(sae looks at your reaction as you pick the small bag of mini macarons up, eyes staring at it in awe. he thinks maybe you recognise the name on the plastic—it’s the name of the most popular bakery in paris. it costs a lot more than he thinks macarons should, but when he sees the subtle smile on your face, it’s definitely worth the price tag.)

you’re not so big on surprises, especially when your mother loves giving you some on the daily, but this is the kind of surprise you like. the kind that makes that incessant vibrating in your purse worth it. the kind that trumps your want to be in control.

and even throughout dinner, sae keeps surprising you. maybe it’s just that you’ve never experienced much, or that you never expected much from him, but every little thing he does seems meaningful to you. the way he makes sure to ask if you don’t like to eat certain food before ordering, the way he drapes his jacket over you when the wind picks up, even the way he slowly leans across the table to clean the stray crumb off your face with his finger.

every gesture seems to tell you something—something that you don’t dare to think of because you’re scared that it’s not true, that you’re the only one starting to fall.

“you know, if you’re constantly like this around girls, no wonder there’s always dating rumours with you,” you huff, too afraid to ask him directly.

but sae always manages to decipher your intentions somehow. he tilts his head, earnesty dripping from his words, “whatever ‘this’ means, i’m only like that with you.”

it doesn’t do your heart any favours, making it pound a million miles an hour because whatever sae’s confessing to here wasn’t on your bingo card for the day.

“itoshi sae, you’re too much.”

“sae.”

“huh?” you look up at his face, only to see him averting his gaze as he turns to look at the skyline, the wind rippling through his soft pink locks.

“call me just by my name.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, gaze dropping to the table. it’s not like you purposely didn’t, but the fact that he’s asking you like this, like he’s being needy about it, heightens your emotions so much more.

his fingers find their way across the table again, this time to your chin, tipping it up, urging you to look at him. “say it.” it’s not commanding, or mean, or forceful, and his fingers are gentle, even his gaze and his intentions.

“sae.” his name rolls of your tongue slowly, and the way he smiles at you after that makes you feel inexplicable, knowing that you’re the reason he looks like that.

he doesn’t even say anything about it, just a smile in acknowledgement before he says he’ll go and pay the bill. you stare at his back as he goes, the contrast in your lives very apparent at every instance he takes you out—because it’s always fancy and expensive with him, a world you know nothing of, a world you once thought you’d never experience in this lifetime.

yet here you are, experiencing it thanks to him. you wonder if you’ll still get to once he knows about your family. he’s sort of a celebrity, right? there must be things he cares about that won’t line up well with your situation.

yeah, you don’t think you’ll ever get that out of your head. not until you ask him about it.

and you’re tempted to—especially with the vibration you’re constantly feeling tonight. taking the opportunity while sae’s away, you fish your phone out of your purse, picking the call up reluctantly, only because you’re mildly curious what else your dear mother could possibly want from you.

“you ungrateful little whore—”

“what do you want?”

yeah, you know you shouldn’t have picked it up. you really shouldn’t. and you don’t even know why you were even mildly worried that it might be your mother in danger and needing your help when she clearly wouldn’t do the same for you.

you hate yourself the most out of everyone. you knew clearly you shouldn’t have picked it up. and now your mother’s on the other line, cussing you out for ignoring her all night. then going on about some cruise she’s going on next week and how she found a secret stash of cash that you’re keeping in the kitchen cupboards, how you’re going to get it from her for hiding it and how kind it is of her to even warn you in the first place.

it’s fine.

you kept it there to distract her from your real money, safe in the bank. if she thinks she’s stealing all you have, it probably won’t cross her mind that you still have any. she doesn’t even know you’d worked multiple jobs back in university, only thought you were good for hooking up with men and purposefully disrespecting her.

a hand around your shoulder makes you jump back in shock, your eyes greeted with sae’s own.

“everything okay?”

“y-yeah, it was just a scam caller,” you lie, immediately hanging up and stuffing it back in your pocket.

as you clamour on about how both of you should really get going, sae catches the way your fingers tremble ever so slightly, how your lips threaten to downturn—are you about to cry?

but when you turn around and force a grin, joking about how you’re going to pull a dine and dash on him, he knows you won’t. whatever’s bothering you—you’re locking him out of it. he doesn’t like it, but can he even complain?

and when the both of you are back in the car, the night feels strangely short somehow, and sae reluctantly pulls out his gps. “what’s your postal code again? i’ll drive you back.”

there’s a short pause before you offer him the string of numbers, and sae’s brows furrow when he keys it in. “you’re heading to otoya’s?” he asks. he knows you two are close, and have been, but this sinking feeling in his heart is not something he’s familiar with.

you bite on your lower lip. you don’t want him to have any false assumptions, but you’re not exactly ready to tell him the truth either—that you’re just running from your problems, that eita’s house is the only other space you have.

“are you… still involved with him?” sae asks, voice soft, looking away like he did earlier.

it reminds you of that night you got drunk. you remember how you needed to know. so you figure maybe you owe him the same. “i’m not involved with anyone,” you tell him, smirking. but he looks at you like he’s waiting for more and you remember too, what you want to hide from him for now. “i just—i don’t have—”

“hey, you don’t have to say anything,” sae cuts in, the slight quiver in your voice enough indication that this isn’t something you’re prepared to say. he’s known that for a while now. “you just can’t go home, right?”

you’re more than a little grateful that he is the way he is, that he doesn’t force anything out of you like shiro used to. “yeah,” you admit, awkwardly looking away. “i usually just stay at eita’s until… i’m ready to go back.”

there’s an awkward silence that stretches on for a while before sae concedes to it. “you could stay at mine.”

did you hear that right?

you furrow your brows. “what?”

sae’s mouth hangs open for a while, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “i could drive you to otoya’s if you prefer that. but… if you wanna stay at mine, that’s fine too. i have a couple extra rooms, you could just pick one.”

what you actually wanted to hear was why he’s willing to do that for you when he hasn’t even known you long, but you hold your tongue. there are doubts in your head—like privacy issues since he’s a celebrity, and rumours if you ever get caught entering or exiting his house, and what exactly does he see you as?

but there’s the selfishness part of you that wants to go for it. and you listen to her.

“then, can i stay over? just one night so i won’t intrude too much,” you assure him, being polite because you’re scared you’re overstepping your boundaries. or that he’ll think you’re a creep even though he’s the one that invited you.

sae can’t help but snicker, and you can’t help but stare as he rests his head against the steering wheel, staring at you. “are you interested in me, y/n?”

you pout, because he’s hit the nail on the head, the embarrassment flying to your head. “okay you know what? if you’re gonna joke about it just take me to eita’s—”

this time sae bursts out laughing, and you feel even more mesmerised; it’s unfair how easy it is for him to do that.

“okay okay, i won’t say that anymore,” he appeases you, hand coming up to ruffle your head. “and feel free to stay as long as you want.”

“i’m gonna steal your jacket, by the way, since you like to joke around so much,” you huff, though sae only chuckles at whatever you say now.

“sure, take whatever you want.”

“and you’re buying my necessities.”

“for when you’re at mine? sure.”

“sae, one day i’m gonna kill you.” because he’s still laughing, obviously getting a kick out of your earlier embarrassment.

“you can’t do that.”

“and why not?”

and sae’s face immediately leans forward, just inches away from you. he’s so close you can feel his hot breath against your cheeks and it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest.

“then i won’t be able to give you that kiss you asked for.”

your breath catches in your throat, sae coming closer ever so slightly, his gaze falling to your lips for a split second before he shatters your hopes by pulling away, setting the gps to the nearest convenience store. but he doesn’t drive off just yet.

not before he makes sure to look at you one last time, that dazed look on your face, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to pinch your cheek gently, leaving an imprint of himself in your heart.

“come on, we’re here.”

after a half hour of poking around the convenience store and getting whatever you need (you also had to stealthily creep some disposable underwear in your basket and make sure sae didn’t see them when paying), you arrive at sae’s apartment—nestled in one of tokyo’s most luxurious neighbourhoods. a far cry from your own.

he carries your bags for you, leading you to his unit, straight at the top, on the thirty-second floor. his is the corner unit, and he gestures for you to walk in front of him.

“1-0-0-9,” he tells you, both hands full.

“huh?”

“the combination, it’s 1—”

“no, i heard you,” you interject, a little exasperated. “but you shouldn’t just hand the passcode out to anyone.”

“i don’t,” he assures you, saying it matter-of-factly. “i trust you.”

you hurry to key in the code, so easily flustered by the way he seems so willing to tell you anything. “then don’t blame me if one day you come back home to find the place ransacked,” you jokingly warn him.

sae conveniently ignores that comment, placing your items in one of the spare rooms nearest to the living room. as you walk in, you marvel at how spacious and clean his apartment is. it’s all cold marble floors and high ceilings, and you can already tell it must be so nice in the day with all the natural lighting flooding in here. the wide windows must let all the sunlight in, must be much brighter during the day than yours is.

you follow him as he tells you where everything is; the spare room right next to the living room, the toilet across from it, the kitchen right next to the balcony exit, accessible from your own room. his apartment is so huge it makes you wonder if he ever feels lonely in it.

in the living room, you see multiple pictures in frames, most of which you assume are probably his family. you recognise rin, present in most of the pictures. they look happy, at least. there’s also one with eita and the others, and some others you don’t recognise. none of bianca or any other girls, you note.

“all good?” he asks once he’s done with the mini tour.

you nod apprehensively, still tense about the fact that you’re staying the night at his place. “yeah, i’m just gonna wash up first.” you don’t even let him say anything before you’re bounding off into the spare room he gave to you, trying to calm yourself down because it never hit you until now that you’re really here, in sae’s place, ready to make yourself at home when you’re not even anything to him. though, you really hope that there’s something.

“calm down, y/n, just gotta take a shower and you’re good as new,” you whisper to yourself, calming yourself and taking deep breaths.

outside, sae’s gaze lingers on the door to your room, your shadow visible from the bottom gap of the door as you move about. he can’t even come up with a good enough reason to tell himself why he bothered to let you stay here, except maybe that he selfishly didn’t want you to stay with otoya.

is that bad?

before he can ponder anymore about it, the door to your room opens and you sheepishly walk out, a grin on your face as you approach him. “so… i forgot something.”

and now you’re going to ask him for it.

“what is it?”

“i swear i didn’t forget on purpose, okay?” you’re pouting, and he finds it mildly adorable. “could i borrow some clothes?”

sae nearly bursts out laughing just from how nervous you seem. though, from how you’ve been every time you saw him, from his hat to his jacket and now you’re asking for his clothes, he can see why you’re a little nervous.

“do you always forget around otoya too?” he means that redundantly more than anything, just a passing comment, but you answer anyway.

“well, i always just wear his jerseys.”

you really were just answering honestly, but the way sae grips your wrist and guides you to his closet is almost comical. you allow yourself to think that he’s doing this out of jealousy, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you follow him.

“you have a walk-in closet?” you gape, looking at the sheer size of it. it’s nearly as big as your entire room.

“take whatever you want, my jerseys are in there,” sae says, pointing you to the sliding door closest to you.

that’s how you end up coming out of the showers a half hour later, dressed in his national jersey, his name in block letters at the back. you’d take a picture just to savour it, but you’d like to think that hopefully this isn’t the last time you’ll get to wear it.

when you come out, sae’s already washed up, probably has his own bathroom in that big bedroom of his. his hair’s wet, dripping onto his thin white t-shirt, eyes finding your gaze as you walk towards him and bow deeply. you’re a comfortable distance away from your mother, phone switched off and discarded into one of the drawers in the guest room, only because sae was kind enough to let you stay. for multiple nights even, if you want to.

“thank you,” you tell him, and it’s for more than just tonight, more than just dinner and a shirt and a bed to sleep in. somehow, ever since you’d met him, he’s been there for you constantly, even if he doesn’t mean to be. it still counts for something, you think, because you can’t even remember the last time you felt like a giggly high school girl having a normal crush even if it’s on a not-so-normal person.

“not gonna ink it on my skin now?” sae teases when you straighten back up, and you roll your eyes.

“don’t blame me if you wake up with a dick drawn on your face.”

“is that what you want?” sae asks you, and you get the feeling he’s not even invested in your quip, his mind elsewhere.

sae’s face is right in front of yours, like so many times before now, it feels like. it makes you think you’re not that delusional, that he could feel just the same as you do—excited, tired, confused.

“i already told you what i want,” you whisper, and you would probably kill yourself if you were thinking clearly for being so open and vulnerable in front of him right now, but then it doesn’t matter.

none of it matters when his lips are on your lips and you can taste the mint lingering on his tongue, when you can feel the way his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer, but gently, like he’s trying not to seem too eager but so close to failing. his hair tickles your face, the way he keeps coming back for more leaves you breathless.

your arm comes up behind his neck, keeping him close. his kiss makes your mind hazier than any alcohol can, his grip falling to the back of your thighs, your lips still connected as he lifts you up onto the counter of the kitchen, his body nestled comfortably between your thighs as he knocks the air out of your lungs.

it’s as if he’s telling you you’re not crazy, that you’re not imagining anything, because he’s here with you right now, out of anyone’s watchful eyes and he’s kissing the fuck out of you simply because he wants to. no dares, no alcohol—just itoshi sae and his crumbling resolve to hide his yearning.

by the time he pulls back, both of you are trying to catch your breaths, foreheads leaning against one another and it leaves you wondering whether it’s as you think or if he’s just entertaining your wishes.

“you know something?” he speaks, voice hoarse as his teal eyes look at you from behind those beautiful lashes of his. you swallow the lump in your throat, forcing a what? out even if it’s barely audible at best. “i’ve been wanting to do that too.”

you must’ve been wrong. you’re not the one that’s a lot to handle. he is.

“why is it that you always somehow know what i’m thinking?” you wonder out loud, an arm around his shoulder for support. you’re both still as close, still as mesmerised by the other.

sae doesn’t really know what you mean by that, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m just made for you,” he comments offhandedly, and you find it hard not to shrink from the nervousness. by now, he should already be able to tell you have a crush on him. your only saving grace is that he probably feels the same. otherwise, you have no doubt he’d probably go out of his way to avoid you.

“you have quite the tongue on you, you know that?”

sae chuckles softly, a smirk lining his lips as he continues staring at you, admiring every single inch of your face. “you would know.”

completely flustered, you gently push him away, hopping off the counter and skipping towards the guest room, offering sae one last thing to think about before you shut the door on him—“maybe next time you’ll know about me too.”

and once your door is shut, sae exhales shakily, the thought of your words and their insinuation consuming him for the entire night.

you really are a lot to handle.

extras !

that heart reaction from sae was absolutely an accident. he meant to go for the thumbs up.

after that kiss, sae had to help himself. he wasn't planning on going any further, but you turned him on a lot more than he thought was possible.

despite his feelings, eita still thinks he isn't ready to commit to just one person.

your feelings towards your mother are complicated—you know she isn't loving at all now, and yet you still hope for that small chance that she might revert back to the mother who once promised to love you more than anything else. it's something that eita was always against because he knew how much it hurt you. it's part of why you don't like to speak to eita about it and hear all of those things.

bianca got drunk to forget after sae rejected her request; when she drunk dialled him, he was too busy giving you a tour of his house.

sae has never invited bianca over to his house even once. he also has never lent her any of his jerseys (as she mentioned in the start of the chapter).

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

#itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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fanby-fckry · 2 months

Text

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

24 min. ago

time sensitive question how flirt boy

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

2 min. ago

thanks guys

#the fucking radio demon parody account replied to my post #with extremely UNHELPFUL advice #and charlie #is ur advice unisex? #bcuz if thats how you got vaggie #im judging you both #irl source

( 697 notes )

⚪️ Anonymous said

r u dead?

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

4 hr. ago

Ha! Bold of you to assume I can be killed :)

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

4 hr. ago

Show your face and per’’haps,’,’. I’ll come~.to you

🎀 charlies-angel Follow

32 min. ago

This account is fake. Nobody knows where Alastor is, anon. Stop wasting your time.

#this parody account is in really poor taste

( 14,581 notes )

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 1

if I make it outta this alive, I’m gonna tell my crush I’m in love with him.

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 1

fuck

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

1 hr. ago

ya know, I don’t think I’ve confessed to someone and meant it in over a decade?

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

53 min. ago

haha would it be crazy if I said I forgot how?

#its literally part of my job to flirt with people #then i catch feelings and suddenly #i get all tongue-tied #i cant fall back on my old scripts either #he hates bullshit #he wants me #the real me #but the real me doesnt know how to do this!!!

( 268 notes )

💀 be-gay-do-crym Follow

2 hr. ago

apparently people are canceling @.niffty-lady ? wtf?

🌕 m00nlight-h0wling Follow

1 hr. ago

they are and it’s actually the stupidest thing i’ve ever seen

#and the bar was really fucking low #considering the amount of dumb chaotic bullshit my dad gets into ↯ #niffty lady

( 22 notes )

👓 creepz0 Follow

3 hr. ago

It’s time to CANCEL @.niffty-lady

Here’s why:

Niffty LITERALLY KILLED a man in cold blood and now PROFITS off of his death

This so-called “lady” is INCREDIBLY rude to fans, ignoring requests leaving fans on read and answering asks with a NASTY attitude. NOT very lady-like if you ask me

Is associated with the VERY PROBLEMATIC @.real-radio-demon (self explanatory)

Writes TOXIC and PROBLEMATIC ships (spidermoth, radiohusk, reylo 🤢)

Writes NSFW when she herself is CHILD-CODED

PROOF is under the cut ⬇️

. Keep reading

#callout post ↯ #niffty lady #anti niffty lady #niffty critical

( 5,101 notes )

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

3 hr. ago

Despite popular belief, I am not dead!

Well, not any deader than I’ve been since 1933! Hahaha!

↯ #is alastor dead? #ha! no ↯ #alastor the radio demon #real radio demon broadcasts

( 147,381 notes )

⚪️ Anonymous said

isn’t it disrespectful to write fics about someone you killed irl?

🪡 niffty-lady Follow

4 hr. ago

I have no respect for Adam. Hope this helps! <3

#answered ask #anon ask

( 136,247 notes )

📺 voxblr4k Follow

5 hr. ago

Is the radio demon dead?

. 96,460 votes • remaining time 6 days, 19 hours

#polls ↯ #alastor the radio demon ↯ #is alastor dead?

( 19,292 notes )

🪡 niffty-lady Follow

6 hr. ago

Forbidden Fruit

Adam x Reader | 10k words | Rated E

⚠️ Major Character Death

Tags: Smut, Whump, Sinner Reader, Forbidden Love, Bad Ending

After a night of reckless passion, you quickly became Archangel Adam’s favorite sin. Your love, as forbidden as the fruit of Eden, was destined to end in tragedy.

https://archiveofoursouls.hell/works/63595697

#niffty lady fic #adam x reader #angel x sinner #sinner reader #smut #whump #forbidden love #bad ending #rpf #aoos link #aoos fanfic

( 49,933 notes )

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

6 hr. ago

Well, it looks like I’ve got some time on my hands!

I’m sure many of you have burning questions you’d like answered

So, ask. me. any’,thing. :)

#ask me anything #ama ↯ #alastor the radio demon #real radio demon broadcasts

( 16,628 notes )

🐍 x-hiss-lord-x Follow

Dec 12, 2019

i can't have beef with the power of friendship trope because if someone wanted to hang out with me i'd probably reconsider my stance on turning the city into the 10th circle of hell

🐍 x-hiss-lord-x Follow

Dec 12, 2019

besides i can always just redirect my dark urges towards being violently protective of my new friends. there's no rule that says you can't do that.

🌈 hells-disney-princess Follow

7 hr. ago

I found Sir Pentious’s old voxblr blog, and I think I’m gonna cry

🌈 hells-disney-princess Follow

7 hr. ago

He made the ultimate sacrifice to protect his friends and the hotel during the extermination. He did exactly what he said he would in this post.

I wish I could thank him for everything he did for us. And I wish I could’ve done a better job of protecting him.

I don’t know where Souls go when they get erased; I don’t know if they go anywhere at all. But I hope that wherever Sir Pentious is now, he’s with people that he considers his friends.

#rip Sir Pentious #we miss you #irl source

( 348 notes )

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

8 hr. ago

↯ #alastor the radio demon #real radio demon broadcasts #the ink spots #we’ll meet again #Voxify

( 4,102 notes )

⬜️ voxblr-meta Follow

9 hr. ago

Fanby’s Fake Dash Masterpost

#meta #fake tumblr dash

( 3 notes )

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clockwayswrites · 11 months

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 4

WC: 439 Materpost CW: Mild Family Drama

Thankfully it wasn’t long before Danny could get home and take a hot shower. The casserole he’d taken out of the freezer was fine to go in the oven at that point, and he tossed it in as he finished drying off his hair. It was getting long again. He’d kept it a bit shorter since he’d started working and figured he’d be due for another cut soon. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to schedule it, or else he’d just put it off until it was unmanageable.

And then he was left staring at his phone.

Thinking about Jazz.

Maybe he should give her another call— another chance.

The phone was ringing before he had thought much about it.

“Danny?”

“Hi Jazz— Jasmine, sorry.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” she said, but Danny could hear the reprimand in her tone. “What going on?”

“I just…” Why was this so hard? “…wanted to call back? Our last call cut short and I didn’t get to tell you everything.”

“Lacey needed me.”

“That wasn’t— I wasn’t trying to say you shouldn’t have ended the call, I just thought I’d try again. I know you’re busy there. You’re still planning the baby shower, right? I’ve got some vacation—”

“Lacey and I talked, and we don’t think you should come,” Jazz said over him. “And not until the baby has been through all their major shots either. It’s just, you’re around disease a lot and we don’t want to take any chances. You get it, right?”

No, he really didn’t. He was emergency response. Jazz would know that if she ever listened to him.

“…Can I at least get the baby something? Do you have one of those list things?”

“It’s called a registry, Danny.”

Danny held back a sigh. He didn’t want this to end in a fight. “Okay, do you have a registry, Jasmine?”

“Of course we do. But we don’t expect you to get us anything off of it,” she said quickly. “We’ve picked out everything based on the latest research into cognitive development and reviews so nothing on it is… cheap.”

“I have a job.” This was going to be like the fight about his schooling all over again— where Jazz called his paramedical degree a trade school. Like there was something wrong with a trade school anyways. “Just send it through, okay? I’ll see whats on it and I won’t send anything that’s not. And I won’t try to visit.”

“Danny…”

“Give Lacey my best, I’ve got to go,” Danny said, hanging up before he could say the angry words that were bubbling up in his throat.

----- AN: So maybe I'm still not over my sil calling my masters of science a trade school. Though there is nothing wrong with a trade school at all and I'll fight anyone who says so. I honestly wished we had more of them in the US. But yep- I might have picked some of the less lovely traits of my sil and a friend to put into Jazz here. I'm not trying to bash her, I just think it would have been so easy for her to go this way if nothing ever came of her parent's research and she didn't have to adjust her world view to helping save her little brother's life nightly. And if all she saw in that little brother now was someone who supposedly didn't try and maybe resents for having to always be the Big Sister.

Danny could sure use some hugs though.

Due to the new post editor and being shadow banned, I no longer tag! You can subscribe to this post instead to be notified in the same way.

#dp x dc #though dc really isn't in this part #I said it was a one shot as long as it was one chapter #but man would this be a great place for a chapter break...#I'm my own worst enemy #quick death #abson

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precious-little-scoundrel · 1 month

Text

| Ida’s Law

Introductory Part

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlisting and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life, if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Warnings: disturbing content- if you made it through last one this one should be a breeze, however it picks up where we left off so expect mentions of war, wounds, illusions to past rapes, Nazis being racist fucks, possibly some internalized misogyny about it all and some hopefully very 🥹🤧 reunions

A Note Going Forward: With this part now published, I am happy to open this series up for prompts. Ideally I’d like this series to end up being exclusively prompt-inspired and will be putting out prompt lists accordingly. I think that will be a fun way to keep the interaction going, stretch my own skills and explore all the different scenarios that may intrigue y’all. You’re welcome to come up with your own prompts, too. All are welcome, none guaranteed but let’s be real -I’m obsessed with this AU so I’ll likely do it. For now I’ll be keeping all writing to POW Camp and Liberation and Post-Liberation timelines.

“Well, what do we know?” Ida Brady asked the first officer out on the other side as they began to filter through the laborious processing of the camp. She counted them down, one familiar face after another appearing through the doorway again with no worse indignity than the new identification tags hanging from their necks.

“I hate a guy named Johann, and I like a guy named Fritz, and the lieutenant guy wasn’t bad.” Maureen declared, straightening her precious cap atop muddy auburn tresses. “Who went and named their son Fritz after the last war? I mean really? Who does that to a kid? It’s like he’s making up for it now, though, awfully nice.”

“Mm, I thought so, too.” Ida hummed, “Might keep an eye on that one, work on him a bit. You think, Kendeigh?”

“Work on him yourself, Ida.” Maureen scoffed.

“Not much to work with.” Ida retorted, the first general reference to her disfigurement she’d made. “What do you know? What’s up?” she left off to inquire after Tallulah Smith who came out the other side of processing looking more than exasperated.

“Know? They don’t know squat.” she said, “Never heard of a Cherokee.”

“I’ll be.” Maureen was grinning sharply. “Wasn't enough being a woman for ya Smith, ya had to go and be a brown one.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” She griped, “They kept insisting I was a fighter pilot. That’s what all the ‘dark ones’ are, according to them. Told them I’d rewire their insides and maybe then they’d take my engineering degree seriously.”

“I’d like to see that.” Maureen murmured, drowsiness beginning to take over at the comparative calm of their new surroundings.

“Looks like we got everyone, yeah?” Ida peered over the heads of the crowing room and counted out her charges in a silent tally.

“Looks like.” Smith agreed. “Got billet assignments?”

“I do. Colonel Clark, most senior prisoner here, said the combines are strict but the rooms aren’t. Let’s try to behave until we feel our way, then we can swap, if they allow.”

“It’s going to smell like feet no matter where and who we share it with.” Smith pointed out and Ida heaved a great sigh as if that were the hardest prospect she’d yet encountered.

“Mm.”

“Buck is out there!” Maureen suddenly cried out, grabbing at Ida’s arm, pointing out the window at the muddy yard.

“How nice. Gotta get this sorted first, eyes in, Kendeigh.”

Maureen reluctantly tore her eyes away from her dearly missed pilot. “Yes sir.”

“All right,” Ida’s voice carried as well as it ever had, commanding immediate quiet and attention, “those in the 350th, 419th, -the hundredth!- on me. Gather ‘round. That’s it, come on. Alright, well, we made it, well done. Truly, well done to all of you. Now I know you well enough to not accuse any of you of being pure idiots, just because we made it to where we wanted to go doesn’t mean any of what’s ahead is going to be easy. Be wary, don’t let your guard down, you don’t know plenty of these men and they don’t know you, I’m sure there are measures in place for spying already. Be sensible. I am certain we can rely on the kindness of those in the hundredth, but even then keep in mind, if you are cold, they are too, if you're hungry, you best believe they are hungrier, the last thing we need is a crisis of chivalry in here. Rely on them, except their help, but don’t ever take from them. Understood? And one more thing, since the human spirit is irrepressible I feel it’s warranted to make one more housekeeping note. None, and I do mean none, no inner relations at all are allowed. I don’t care how cold you are, how sweet he’s been, or how much you’ve missed him. The Red Cross aren’t sending rubbers, and don’t ever take the promise of a pull out. Do you want a one-way ticket to a death camp or a bullet to the head? Get pregnant. Simple as that. You think the Jerries think poorly of you now for being female? Try being a matron. The point is to blend in as much as possible, keep that in mind. Whatever you do, keep that in mind. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Colonel?” One voice demurred, raised hand and respectful title only forerunners for an obvious objection incoming.

“Yes? Sanchez, isn’t it? You’re not one of mine, I think.”

“No, sir, 55th -fighters.”

“Yes, well, welcome. What’s your question?”

“No offense sir but- what about the guards?” Sanchez asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Brady replied with typical candor, “I believe so far we’ve seen a mix here. I’m sure our friends can give us tips on who to watch out for.”

“No sir, sorry I meant-“ Sanchez kept her teeth clenched until her thoughts seemed to form better, “-you said no relations. What about the guards? No disrespect meant colonel and I don’t know about yours, but mine -they weren’t pulling out.”

“Mm.” Maureen thought that if Ida smashed her lips together any tighter they’d turn whiter than her skin, the bent aviators she had managed to preserve this entire time did a remarkable job of masking whatever feeling was stiffening her spine to the current degree, but all the same, her spine was stiff, “no offense taken, an excellent point. I’ll inquire about any possible…remedies. Anyone else?”

A multitude of hands shot up and Ida Brady scanned them with bewilderment until she realized her lapse in specificity. “Anyone else with questions, I meant! Saints alive. No? Good, let’s claim our bunks and see about a wash.”

After the dark interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.

And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.

“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.

“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.

“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.

“Fine.” she assured.

He was searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”

“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.

The Major’s lanky frame staggered under her surprise attack, perhaps more from shock and ill preparedness than poor rations and a weakened constitution. Or at least Ida, hoped that was the case.

Well, there went all intentions for discretion about partiality on their part, five seconds had gone by and Maureen still hadn’t let go, her valued cap about ready to knock off her head and his too. Seeing the gig was up, Cleven even belatedly brought an arm up to hug her shoulders, his pleased face bashfully pacifying her intensity. “If it isn’t my favorite bombardier.” Cleven mumbled, his lips failing not to tug upwards in the tiniest of smiles, and he gave her a pat on the back.

“Buck!” Smith was coming in hot behind Kendeigh and knocked Ida’s shoulder in her haste to get around her and join in. “Thank Jesus you’re here.” she grunted as she squeezed him and Kendeigh both, “I mean -we’re sorry you’re here but since we’re here-“

“Glad you’re here, too, Smith.” he assured her gently, another pat on another back and Ida watched Cleven’s composure began to flake as he took stock of their roughened appearances. “It’s gonna be ok now.” he offered, and coming from someone else that statement would’ve sounded a great deal less impressive than it did coming from him. It also sounded hollow without Bucky’s typical parroting of the upbeat sentiment. “Let’s get you girls sorted.” he nodded at Ida who fell in alongside him, if only to distance and displace Kendeigh and her over familiarity just a tad.

“What’s your Kommandant like?” Ida asked by way of conversation as Gale directed them in a trudge along the brown paths towards his specified hut.

“Think I know him as well as you.” Gale admitted, “Tried to stay low, been no reason for socializing. Wouldn’t advise a trip to the camp doctor though.” He added the last part after a beat.

“Why?”

“Your Johnny says he’s got an experimental mind.” Gale smiled wryly but there was a grieved look behind it that made Ida’s pulse pound in alarm, “If you go in with a cold, you might come out with a radioactive arm instead.”

“Noted.” Ida muttured with a shiver, wishing to god her jacket hadn’t been taken off her a couple stops ago, the sun was waning in the dull sky and the breeze was frigid without it. “Speaking of doctors,” she decided to go for it, “is Johnny -my John- is he alright? At the gate it was such a racket, was he…standing?”

Gale paused in his step up into the combine, brows knitted in surprise and she noticed along with him that their little march had drawn quite a little audience from the fellow inmates. Females in a Stalag -what a novelty. “Yeah, John’s fine. He’s fit.” Gale still had that quizzical look on his face.

Ida swallowed hard and gave him another curt nod, one she wanted to come across as grateful but wasn’t sure it did, her battered cheek was responding less and less to her mind’s commands. “Right. This us?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d try to keep as many close as possible.” He explained, “Welcome to paradise.”

“What did y’all name this shack?” Maureen asked him as she stepped over the threshold, it was dark inside and smelled of lumber and smoke.

“We haven’t.” Gale admitted, forlorn at the realization that things like that didn’t occur to people like him. If Bucky had been here, he’d have had it named in an hour, and something awful, too. Something that would make them all laugh.

“Damn oversight, Gingerale.” Maureen teased merrily but Cleven noticed the dimming light in her eyes as she took in the cramped, uninspired utility of the place. One wooden doorway after another.

“Talked it over with Colonel Clark during your processing,” Gale said, “decided it were best if we mingle you all among the men we know. Boys from your squadrons, friendly faces. A few of you in each room.”

“I call dibs on yours.” Maureen unabashedly grinned up at Cleven but Ida saw how a heartbroken look of protectiveness skittered across his features.

“Alright.” he muttered without a fight for once.

“Mm, Smith, Sanchez, Tong, you in here.” Ida decided and having snapped her fingers she was moving on to the next stuffy room. Asking Cleven at each about their current occupants, and with the precision of memory required of a woman who had to memorize her opponents on the promotional ladder, chose their new bunk mates accordingly.

“And where’s Johnny bunked?” she asked him in a low tone as she watched the next set settle in from the doorway.

“In with me, further down the hall, Demarco, Hambone, a few others.”

Ida seemed to hesitate as she eyed up an extra bunk in the current room that the last of her girls were settling into.

“Don’t be a stick, colonel,” Maureen spoke up gently, a surprising liberty even for her, “you need friends right now. Bunk with us. Everyone’s going to be fine. Can’t be all places at all times, ya know?”

Ida didn’t reply but after a moment she admitted, “I should go see John.”

Gale and Maureen exchanged a look and then moved in unison to catch up to her as Ida Brady walked, brisk as if she were back home at Thorpe and about to pick a fight with Jack Kidd, down the long hall to one of the last rooms. “In here?” she asked Gale, pointing at the closed door -they liked to keep it so for warmth and privacy, and to acclimate the guards to it being closed when the radio was out.

“Yeah that’s us.” Cleven replied, reaching out and snagging Maureen back a step as Ida turned the handle. “Let’s give ‘em a minute.” he suggested, referring to the Bradys.

He held her jacket sleeve for a brief moment before turning it to grab her hand, he’d missed those hands. To his horror their usual calloused elegance was a swollen paw of bruises. “The hell, Maureen?” he whispered in shock, turning it over to examine it, grip strong around her wrist before she could pull away. “Who did this?”

Maureen did her best to shrug, “Some bitch stood on them.” she said simply, and surrendered the other hand for a similar heartbroken inspection.

Kendeigh was indeed not as visibly marred as Ida Brady or a few of the others, but still, Gale kept turning her crushed hands over and over, recalling with vivid agony the way he’d admired them at all manner of work before. To hurt them that way, to restrain her so meanly- “Maureen,” she’d never heard his voice dip so low, and his eyes were simmering where they cataloged her hurts, “what’d they do to you?”

“What’d they do to your face?” she shot back, perhaps more perturbed by the immaculately symmetrical scars on his once porcelain face than her own condition. Women expected the treatment they’d gotten, in some twisted way, but this on the other hand, it disturbed her.

Gale looked taken aback by her question and quickly dropped her hand to touch his right cheek as if to remind himself the scar was obvious to everyone. “Flak.” he replied a beat too late.

“Awfully precise.” she snarked.

“I asked you first.”

“I told you, a bitch stood on them.”

“I’m your superior officer.”

“Who it looks like someone had some fun with,” Maureen snapped back, “who did this?”

“What happened to you?” He hit right back but his voice quavered.

“I’m fine now. I wanna go see the boys. Come on.”

“Just- give them another minute.” Gale insisted, pulling her back away from the doorway again, “It’s a lot.” He reminded, “For a brother to see his sister like -that.”

Maureen couldn’t argue with that, besides Gale looked so sad and more fragile than she’d ever seen him, and the gentle hold he had on her jacket was as needy and scared as a child’s. “I’m glad we’re in this together.” she whispered.

“Me too.” he admitted, guilty and sad over how true that was before letting her press her lips to his.

Ida Brady didn’t know what she expected when she opened the door, not much she supposed, just a living brother with any luck. It was a decently tidy room, plates stacked on a rough hewn board at the far end, eight bunks lining the walls, stacked three tall. A table was in the middle and there sat dear old Crank and Hambone too, Murph with Benny. A card game was ongoing.

They looked so fine, quite normal, all in all.

All motion in the small room stopped upon her entrance. Cards were dropped and cigarettes forgotten in open mouthed shock.

“Holy shit -colonel?” Demarco didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, and his disbelieving horror over her appearance came through loud and clear in his greeting. She hadn’t seen him at the gate.

The same for Hambone’s face, one that had never bothered to be discreet in pleasant circumstances, much less in shocking ones like seeing a notorious superior officer come in looking about as battered as a body could get -although his torn cheek was one to talk. Crank recovered first, in his mild, stammering sort of way, glancing at the lean figure who still stood looking out the lone window.

“Well, if it isn’t Ain’t Pretty Brady.” Crank clapped uneasily, summoning her nickname from basic just to cut the tension, it served to startle John.

He turned from the window abruptly, blank faced and unblinking as he realized the sister he had been watching for had already arrived. If their ole nan from the motherland had suddenly materialized before him he could have hardly looked more haunted or aghast, wide fringed fox eyes and that straight fold of a mouth -always so very held together, her little brother. Even after his third belly landing.

But those startled unblinking eyes...

Ida wanted to tell him to blink, that it was all alright now, that they were both alive and that it was good enough, it had to be. But she seemed to have fully lost all power over her throbbing cheek at last, she could feel her lips move in a motion she realized with supreme panic was likely a wobble of emotion. She ripped her aviators off, as if seeing her eyes might help his to come alive.

“John John?” she croaked in greeting, oblivious of the childish endearment tumbling off her lips in a room full of soldiers. If it were something their family was in the habit of doing, Ida Brady might have rushed him like Maureen did her pilot, or held out her own hand to be held, asked for a gesture from him -after what she’d gone through, surely it couldn’t have been weakness to want a clap on the shoulder, a flick to the bicep, a little “well done” for staying alive.

But she just stood there and watched him clock her shame. She could feel her swollen lip splitting in real time as the swelling and incessant trembling tore the taut skin apart, they’d passed around a single canteen in processing and it wasn’t enough, the walls of her throat felt collapsed together. Maybe she should have asked for a mirror first, maybe Cleven or Kendeigh or Smith should have told her she’d bring a whole room to a frozen standstill by her looks alone. They’d seen her at the gate -were these meager lightbulbs really so much more illuminating?

“Eye-eye.” Johnny let it out in a breathy rush as if he’d suddenly come to, and then he was in front of her, hands cradling the sides of her neck, thumbs hooked gently under her bruised jaw. A calloused pad swiped away the ticklish trickle of blood sliding the crease of her mouth.

Eye eye -his onetime baby babble for Ida, and she’d never let him forget it.

She could have wept at the useless sentimentality of it, of the gentle familiarity of familial hands, at the seething loyalty storming across his face.

“The fuck did they do?” he articulated at last, voice gravelly as shit but also reminiscent of the squeaky olden days when his castrato role suddenly no longer served one Sunday in choir.

“You’ve got legs.” she answered instead, sounding maniacal in her happiness.

He looked at her like she’d gone fully crazy as well as beat, “Yeah? Yeah I do.”

“They said, they said you didn’t.” she chuckled, a bizarre merriment trying to take hold in her relief, “During interrogation, that bespectacled cunt told me you had your legs crushed when you crashed.”

“No? No- no I jumped.” He insisted, then let go of her face to step back and gesture to two fit legs, as long and lanky as she remembered, as long and lanky as her own. “I jumped, I’m fine. They told you that?”

“Yeah.” Ida said, “Told me the longer I didn’t comply the longer you were without medical attention. I -I’ve been so…uneasy…about you.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, hands back on her shoulders and she was grateful for it despite the bruises he was gripping, grateful for the way he kept touching her like he was going to hold her together with his own two hands, same blood, same flesh, same memories, maybe whatever she’d lost he could supply back like a blood donation. “Those sons of bitches.” he cursed them.

“Plasma for planes.” she agreed.

He kept looking at her, at her cheek and at her ragged hair and at the missing buttons, “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” he suddenly asked, wide eyed. “You know i’d rather die than have you tell.”

Ida scoffed, and gave him a grin, the best one she could manage with her cheek and split lip, “What do you take me for, Johnny?”

“A cold hearted bitch, I hope.” he returned the small smile but his voice cracked, still that hint of something long gone and juvenile.

“That’s what their Lieutenant called me.” Ida confirmed, a little proud, and sensing a renewal of his inquiries, Ida chose to take the offensive and call out for a conspicuously absent Kendeigh, “Candy! Didn’t you want to tell Johnny about your charming admirer? The Lieutenant?”

Kendeigh came round the doorway hastily, her lips puffy and cheeks oddly red. Cleven followed after and matched her, and his blush did nothing but highlight those scars of his. “Brady.” Maureen greeted, boldly hugging Ida’s very stiff brother without care —due to his red cheeks and rigid shoulders Ida concluded Cleven had given his own inner-relations talk to the men—, “Yes, I wanted to -oh hello Crank, Benny you son of gun- wanted to tell y'all about my ticket outta here -hell Hambone, how’d you manage to get uglier? -see my integrator, he found me fairly fetching. I think one of these days he’s gonna roll up in his shiny car and take me away from here and you’re all gonna wish you’d taken time to learn a little know-how about Alligators and their hibernation tactics in the winter. He was enthralled.”

There was an awkward silence hanging in the room, Crank grimaced a smile out of sheer generosity of heart and Benny Demarco still sat with his cigarette neglected on his open lip. Cleven, used to her preening brazness kept a tight lip, though a thousand questions seemed to swirl in his eyes.

“He the one who stood on your hands?” John Brady asked her without hesitancy.

Maureen whirled round then, comedy hour over and an angry flush creeping up her neck at his directness. “No.” she snapped. “Can’t some of them be alright?”

“A German’s a German.” he countered.

“There’s Fitzs and then there’s Johanns.” she disagreed nebulously and only Ida got her reference.

“And a shower is a shower,” Ida butted in before this became an experiment in an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force “which we need, badly. We’re…filthy.”

“We’ve got working sinks, trough sinks.” Cleven clarified with an apologetic look as if it were his fault the showers only ran once a week and poorly at that, and the water they had was frigid already in autumn.

“Water is water.” Ida reasoned in return, wondering when Johnny was going to finally let go of her arm.

“We’ll clear it out for ya.” Cleven said.

“And we’ll guard the entrance.” John added emphatically.

“Thanks.” Ida muttured, “Some of us could use to mend our uniforms.” she added, refusing to blanch at the subtle inventory of her jagged tears and crusted blood being made by every man in the room.

Maureen at least had her jacket intact. Her cap, too.

“Here, you can have my trousers while I stitch yours.” her John decided and was unbuckling his belt before she even registered the hand gone from her shoulder.

“What?” Ida balked, “You’re going to go ‘round in your skivvies?”

“Not as uncommon around here as you’d think, Ida.” Gale said, a small smile on his face. “I’m afraid order and decorum has gone to shit without you.”

“Well I’m here now.” she replied sternly but didn’t stop Johnny as he stripped.

“And so am I.” Kendeigh grinned and all Ida could do was to bless the saints for having let only one terror into the camp, were Bucky Egan to be here too, things would become intolerably lax. As soon as she thought it she repented it, sending up a prayer for the poor, absent bastard.

“Say Benny, you’re shorter, can I have your pants?” Maureen pleaded.

“Why mine?” Demarco protested, only offended at the height implication.

“Because Cleven’s too tall and I’ve already been in his pants.”

“Maureen!”

“Ida, order somebody to give me their pants.”

“You can have mine.” Crank offered kindly, and then stood up and bashfully began to unlayer. It left him in skivvies, a snuggly sweater and his flight jacket.

“It’s a good look, Crank,” Maureen grinned at the finished product as he handed the trousers over. “I’m seeing you in a different light.”

“Maureen!”

“Just sayin-“

“Take the pants with you to the washroom!” Brady interjected desperately as Maureen looked ready to strip right here and now. “Jesus, Kendeigh.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Maureen ribbed him, out for blood in her tired state and if she couldn’t have that of the Germans she would of her friends’.

“Alright let’s - let’s settle down.” Gale implored, a tired expression firmly etched onto his face and Ida herself considered giving up on the wash altogether and tumbling into the available bunk to court the oblivion of sleep. Were it only blood and dirt she just might, her usual tidiness be damned.

As it was -it was, there was…the filth was so much worse.

And if Ida thought on it too long she’d go mad and want to pour boiling lye on herself to wash herself clean and to kill the shame of it. She’d have to scrub the pants before she gave them to Johnny to be mended, it was bad enough for a brother to see the blood and busted seams.

“Yes, settle down for God’s sake.” she echoed Cleven, and something about her hoarse voice compelled Maureen to temper herself more than any direct order could. “A wash, come on, let’s get the girls. Oh and one more thing, Cleven-“ Ida turned to Gale and found him alert, eager to help. She was afraid she was only setting him up for failure but she had to make an effort to find those “remedies” she’d promised Sanchez. “There any lemons around?”

The incredulous look on his face suggested he thought she knew better, but he was ever polite in his reply, “No, colonel. No lemons.”

“Mm. Nutmeg?” she tried to recall each wicked trick she’d heard condemned when a girl got herself in the family way without the needed family in place.

“No, no nutmeg.”

“Mm.”

“Nothing but potatoes and cigarettes, ma’am. Do you- why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she assured, “Just, a hot toddy sounds good right about now. You know?”

“Uh,” he floundered, half in suspicion and half in genuine confusion, “never had one.”

“Well then,” she grinned as she passed him, “that’s something to add to our to-do list for when this is all over. Jameson, though, none of that Kentucky stuff.”

“Yes ma’am.” his tone was vacant, smiling concern brittle, “You uh, you alright, Colonel?”

Ida gave him a withering look and then Gale too, had cause to be repentant.

“Come on Kendeigh, let's get the rest.” Ida gestured as she followed Gale back into the hall, aware of Johnny’s eyes still on her, still taking stock, “They better not be in bunks without a wash. Come on, showers, everyone! Out, come on out. You can sleep afterwards. Out! Would one of you be so kind as to wake us up in time for roll call?” she inquired of the male officers straggling behind her in the hall.

“Course! Yeah, for sure.” about five offers went up.

“You wake Me up.” she clarified coming to a full stop, wary of the enthusiasm, “I’ll wake up the rest.”

“I’ll get you up.” Her John said.

He’d probably sit and watch her sleep, too, needle and torn pants in hand, like a creepy little owl but that was one of those things she figured make or break a family, you either find it endearing you have a brother who rarely blinks or you go mad. Today, after all of it, she didn’t mind having a guardian Angel. Or a watchdog. Speaking of-

“Hey,” she asked him, “you two flew out together, where’s Bucky?”

But no one had an answer for that, not even Little John.

💋Hope you enjoyed AND REMEMBER -prompts are now open.

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#masters of the air #mota #mota fanfic #mota oc #Intergrated au #those who can #john egan #john brady #gale cleven #benny demarco #gale cleven x oc #john egan x oc #john brady x oc #Maureen Kendeigh #Ida Brady #Tallulah Smith

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j0hnj4ej3n · 8 months

Text

drinking with nct dream

word count: 1.6k

warnings: mentions alcohol consumption, puking, slightly suggestive!! let me know if i’m missing anything~

notes: this was just something i’ve been wanting to write for fun because i was drinking with friends at a bar recently and it was honestly one of the best nights i’ve had in a while so i just wanted to be delusional with those memories and with it for 7dream hehe <3 hope y’all enjoyed reading and do send in requests if you have any and i’ll consider writing them~

𔘓Mark:

The both of you appreciate a drink or two every once in a while. Just to wind down and have meaningful conversations over some drinks. With alcohol in each of your systems, the mood switches from giggling over random things and silly memories, to having deep and vulnerable conversations. And then back to laughing your asses off over nothing at all. Mark gets a lot more affectionate when he gets tipsy and most times you end up on his lap by the end of the night. “Dude, you’re actually reallyyy pretty y’know?” “Shut up.” You would reply, getting shy and Mark’s throwing his head back, laughing at your flustered reaction. You love moments like this because Mark always holds you close and you’ve both completely let your guards down, it’s sweet and intimate and you’re both just happily dwelling in each other’s presence. “I’m sleepy…” Mark mumbles after the two of you empty a few more bottles. “Mmm, we should probably go to bed,” “No, no, here…” Mark mumbles into the back of your neck, pulling you down to lie with him on the couch. You chuckle to yourself because you find sleepy, tipsy Mark so adorable. He leans up slightly, to kiss you softly on the cheek, mumbling a soft ‘i love you’ as he pulls you closer by the waist and falling asleep.

𔘓Renjun:

There’s a lot of things you find impressive about your boyfriend, and one of them is his high ass alcohol tolerance. You wouldn’t say you’re a lightweight, but your tolerance is nothing compared to Renjun’s. So you feel the safest when you’re out drinking with your friends and Renjun tags along. “Okay, i think you’ve had enough tonight my love,” Renjun tells you, pulling the shot glass gently out of your grasp, ignoring your whining. “But i don’t want to waste them~” “Don’t worry about it, i’ll finish… okay? i’ll drink them… you just chill for a bit,” Renjun tells you, brushing your hair away from your face and letting you lean your tired frame against him. If you ever had to puke, Renjun doesn’t shy away from holding your hair back and readily cleans you up after too. He brings you water and lets you fall asleep beside him as the rest of your friends party on into the night. Sometimes he nags at you for drinking more than you can handle but Renjun can’t even deny that you look so cute with your cheeks red and your eyelids heavy from the sleepiness that alcohol brings. Plus, Renjun likes being able to take care of you. And even in your drunken and unconscious state, you make his heart flutter when you reach out to interlock your hand tightly with his, with your head on his shoulder.

𔘓Jeno:

“Woah… you’re gorgeous…” you tell Jeno with both hands on your cheek, looking at him with your doe eyes that are glazed over now because of the amount of drinks you had tonight. Jeno chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. He doesn’t like drinking, so he’s really just over at your place to make sure you’ll be fine till tomorrow morning. You aren’t a huge fan of alcohol yourself but you’ve been stressed recently so you invited Jeno over to hang out with you while you drank. “You really think so?” Jeno asks with a sheepish smile on his face, if you were drunk off alcohol, he was getting drunk off you and all your shenanigans tonight. You nodded, feeling shy and kind of embarrassed, not knowing you voiced out your inner thoughts. Jeno reaches out to hold your hand, caressing your knuckles, “You’re lucky then… since we’re already together.” You gasp, “You’re my boyfriend?” Jeno nodded as he smiled at the shock on your face. “Oh my… I won,” you muttered out which had Jeno scrunching his face in laughter. He thinks you’re crazy adorable right now, “Truthfully, I think I’m the one who won,” Jeno said as he placed a quick kiss against the back of your hand. “Oh man… I should have recorded all that to show you tomorrow.”

𔘓Haechan:

There’s music playing in the back, a ‘wine night’ playlist you and Haechan curated together for nights just like this. You both share a liking for wine and would drink together when you had time. It’s one of both your favourite ways to spend time together amidst busy schedules. You both found solace in letting the wine relax your mind and bodies. The two of you would have deep talks about your own lives, the future you both dream of together. Sometimes you’ll sit with your legs over Haechan’s lap as he kneads his fingers into your calves. Or Haechan will lay his head on your lap as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s romantic, with the dimmed lights, the scented candles and the soft music playing in the back. Tonight, you’re both on your feet, swaying to the music in each other’s arms, empty wine glasses on the coffee table. Haechan holds your back securely with one arm and your thigh with the other as he dips you, causing you to laugh at this sudden move. He presses light kisses against your exposed neck before he pulls you back upright. “After all this time, I’m still crazy about you…” he whispers against your lips and you kiss him eagerly to show him that you feel the same way too.

𔘓Jaemin:

Jaemin doesn’t like alcohol, almost despises it. But who is he to stop you from having fun? If you’re happy, then he’s happy, genuinely. Even though he’s completely sober, he lets you drag him to the dance floor, a giddy smile plastered on his face. You’re kind of tipsy as you sway to the music, singing passionately along to the music from the live band. Jaemin’s so amused by you and the joy you’re radiating is so infectious that he’s singing along too. His hands never leave your body though, either holding into your hands as he twirls you around or on your waist to hold you steady. When the two of you get home, you’re more out of it than when you started dancing. And you’re literally all over him, Jaemin knows it’s not like you can help it since you become a lot more touchy when you’re tipsy. You’re planting kisses along his jaw and down his neck and you can feel the vibration on your lips when he lets out a low chuckle. “Honey… we shouldn’t,” Jaemin tells you as he gently pries you off him. You groan at the distance he places between you two, slightly disappointed that he’s rejecting your advances. “You’re drunk…” Jaemin states as he cups your face in his hands, “I’ll help you get ready for bed, okay?” You sigh but end up nodding, feeling tiredness wash over you. You’re dozing off as Jaemin helps you remove your make-up and change into more comfortable clothes. You don’t quite remember how you fell asleep but Jaemin’s already preparing you breakfast when you wake up the next morning.

𔘓Chenle:

“No!” You exclaim as you lost yet again, meaning you have to take another shot. You’re already feeling so warm on the inside and you’re sure your face is red by now. “You have to drink! Come on~” Your friend urges from the seat in front of you. You sigh as you reach out for the shot glass, but before you even bring it to your lips, Chenle pulls it out from your hand and downs it from beside you. “She can’t take anymore, I’ll drink for her,” Chenle says as he places the shot glass down, inciting a series of ‘oooo’s from your group of friends. Chenle has always been like this, which is why you find him so reliable. As annoying as he is, he’s quick to catch on when you’re uncomfortable or when you’re reaching your limit and never hesitates to step in for you. His tolerance is literally so high, you’d be out cold and Chenle isn’t even a bit tipsy. At times like this, you think Chenle’s kinda cool, romantic even. When you doze off, Chenle stays right by you, covering your exposed legs with his sweater as you sleep. He isn’t all that nice though, because you always wake up with unglamorous pictures of you in the groupchat, sent by the same boy who took shots on your behalf all night.

𔘓Jisung:

“E’rything's spinning…” Jisung mumbles into your hair. You knew this was a bad idea, Jisung isn’t great at drinking and the boys insisted on playing some stupid drinking game that got your boyfriend drinking beyond what he could take. “Do you need to puke?” You asked him as you pat his thigh, trying to get his attention and you can feel him shaking his head. “You smell great…” Jisung says under his breath as he snuggles closer to you. “Baby, you bought me this perfume,” you tell him as you try to hold back your laughter. Jisung keeps mumbling silly things as he leans against your shoulder. “You’re so pretty,” “It’s crazy… I feel like I’m in a sauna…” “Can we go get ice-cream?” You sigh as you inform him that it’s 3am and there are unfortunately ice-cream places open nearby. “What?? It’s 3??” Jisung huffs and goes silent. You think he dozed off so you stay still, just scrolling through your phone aimlessly, waiting for him to sober up a bit before bringing him into the room to sleep. That’s when you feel the gentlest kiss on your neck and you wonder if you’re imagining it. And there it was again, Jisung’s soft lips against the base of your neck and it lingers longer than the previous one. “Jisung?” “Mhm?” “What are you doing?” “Kissing you.” “Why?” “You’re just so pretty…”

#nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream fluff #j0hnj4ej3n

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upat4amwiththemoon · 6 months

Note

Maybe could be considered a part 2 to Vigilante Shit but it would be Blackhill mom's officially meeting and talking to Kate. If you want more funny antics it could start with Kate seeking into R's room or something like that.

P.S. love your mom fics!

Vigilante shit | 2

Summary: Sneaking out to make out and beat bad people up.

Pairing: BlackHill x daughter!reader, Kate Bishop x female!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1424

a/n: blackhill <3 would recommend reading part 1

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

It’s been two weeks since Natasha and Maria caught Y/N sneaking back to her room after a vigilante mission she had with her girlfriend Kate. Which means it’s also been two weeks since Y/N has seen Kate, as her mothers thought grounding her was needed. It probably was, but she can still be annoyed about it.

Y/N is sitting on her bed, reading Jane Eyre with music playing from her phone. Her moms are downstairs cooking dinner for the three of them. A sudden clattering sound makes Y/N moves her attention away from the book. She looks around her room, but notices nothing moving or changing, so she turns back to her book.

The clatter can be heard again.

This time Y/N slams her book down to her bed, though not before putting a bookmark to the page she was in. She stands up and walks around her room, looking around for anything out of order. Just as her gaze goes over to the window, a small rock hits it, making a clattering sound.

With a frown, she looks out from the closed window. “Kate?” She mumbles, unlocking the window quickly. “What are you doing here?” Y/N whisper shouts, her head leaning out the window.

“I’m here to save my princess! Have you seen her? Her mothers locked her into a tower.” Kate giggles, her hands over her mouth in a cup like way to make sure Y/N can hear her.

Y/N scoffs with a grin, “come inside, idiot.” She glances between Kate climbing up the fore ladder and her closed door, desperately hoping her mothers haven’t heard the commotion. “You know I’m grounded, right?” She mumbles when Kate is finally inside.

“Yeah,” she kisses her before closing the window, “but I really missed you.” Kate goes to sit down on Y/N’s bed while looking at her room. She hasn’t actually been there before, as they tried to keep their relationship secret from Y/N’s moms.

She tries to act annoyed that Kate is endangering both of their wellbeing by sneaking into her room while her moms are home, but she can’t help but be happy her girlfriend is here. “I missed you too.”

Kate smiles, waving her fingers in a come here motion. As Y/N steps closer to her, she pulls her to her lap, wrapping her arms around the lower part of her waist. “How long are you still grounded for?” She speaks quietly, knowing her parents have an extra good hearing.

“Like another week, I think.” Y/N rolls her eyes, thinking her moms went overboard with the amount of grounding. “I’m also apparently never ever allowed to leave the house with you alone. So, you’re going to have to get used to hanging out here.”

Kate giggles, “I’ll live with that.” She tilts her head, suddenly dropping her smile. “Except I have to meet your parents before that, don’t I?” She frowns, her body tensing up at the thought of officially Maria and Natasha.

“You do.” Y/N hums, her hand going up to play with Kate’s hair.

“What if they won’t like me?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “They’ll like you..eventually.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’re just a but apprehensive of you after the whole vigilante thing.”

Kate groans, her forehead thudding against Y/N’s shoulder. “They hate me. I haven’t met them yet and they already hate me.”

“They don’t hate you,” Y/N cradles Kate’s head, “they just don’t like that we’ve been sneaking out to fight people.”

“Well,” she sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You think?”

Kate gives Y/N’s shoulders a couple of light bites when she laughs. They start giggling together and fall down to the bed, Y/N on top of Kate.

During their giggling, that has gotten a bit too loud, they fail to notice the footsteps coming towards the room. “Y/N, the dinner i-“ Natasha stops talking as she notices her daughter isn’t alone.

“Mom!” Y/N jumps up, falling off of the bed in the process. Kate scrambles up from the bed, her eyes comically wide as she stares at Natasha staring at the two with a scarily calm expression. Y/N stands up, the three of them stand there in silence. “This is Kate.” She mumbles

“Maria!” Natasha shouts. “Come up here.” Her hands are crossed over her chest as she leans against the doorway.

Maria comes up, “what’s up?” She frowns, looking at Natasha with a questioning look, until she walks into the room. “Oh.”

“This is Kate, Y/N’s girlfriend and vigilante partner.” Natasha state.

“Is it now?” Maria takes a stance similar to Natasha, scaring both of the girls.

Clearing her throat, Kate offers her hand, but she doesn’t take any steps closer, so she is too far away to actually shake their hands. “I’m Kate. Bishop. Kate Bishop. Girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Romanoff and Mrs. Hill.” She has a toothy smile, way too large to be genuine, though it falls when she realizes she’s still holding her hand up.

Natasha raises her brows at her rambling. “We know who you are, what we don’t know, is why you’re here while Y/N is grounded.”

“We-“

“Downstairs,” Maria interrupts Y/N from saying anything, “both of you.”

The four of them sit around the kitchen table, Kate and Y/N on one side, Natasha and Maria on the other. Kate is sitting unnaturally straight, hoping to show the two women that she is good enough for their daughter.

“So,” Natasha starts, “you two have been dating for a while.”

“And fighting crime.” Maria adds, making the couple shrink in their seats.

“Yeah.” Y/N mumbles. She’s holding onto Kate’s hand tightly, both of them clammy.

“That was totally my fault!” Kate suddenly shouts out, raising her hands, which ends up her banging her knuckles to the edge of the table, “shit, no, no, I don’t normally curse.” Her eyes are wide as she once again goes on a tangent. “I just mean, that, it was my plan to start fighting.”

Frowning, Y/N stops her girlfriend from talking, “no, it was both of our plan. You aren’t taking the blame for this.” She looks at her, her brows scrunched together.

“I don’t want your moms to be mad at you.” Kate whispers, though it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Well, I don’t want them to be mad at you either.” Y/N whisper shouts back.

Natasha and Maria glance at each other, deciding for put an end to this before it goes on for too long, “we aren’t mad at anyone, so please, calm down you two. We just want to talk, set up some ground rules.”

“Like no fighting crime.” They calm down, Y/N more than Kate, as the latter is still incredibly nervous to be in front of the two women. “And no more sneaking in either.” Maria raises her brows as she turns to look at Kate.

“Sorry.” She mumbles, blushing under her gaze.

Natasha leans her elbows against the table. “We’ve been talking with Clint,” Kate perks up at the name of her mentor, “and if you two promise to follow the rules, we’ll start properly training you.”

“Really?” Y/N gasps.

“Yes, but,” Maria continues before the two can get too excited about it, “that means you two will not go out without one of us, the bedroom door stays open, and you’re still grounded.” She looks at Y/N.

“Uhuh, understood, we’ll follow every rule!”

“Every rule!” Kate echoes, quickly nodding, trying to hide her grin.

Maria chuckles while Natasha rolls her eyes with a grin on her face. “Alright.” Natasha stands up. “Go on then, go to Y/N’s room, keep the door open.”

With a giggle, Y/N stands up, takes hold of Kate’s hand, and starts pulling her towards her bedroom. They hug each other tightly once they’re inside, with the door open, and celebrate the potential of becoming real Avengers.

They jump onto the bed. “That didn’t go as badly as I thought.” Y/N smiles, leaning her head on Kate’s shoulder.

“It went well!” Kate wraps her arms around Y/N, pulling her on top with a laugh. “I love your moms.”

Y/N slaps her arm, “don’t love them more than me.” She grins.

“Never.” She kisses her, though it’s messy from all of their giggling.

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videovamptramp · 1 year

Text

love’s never been much to me (but i’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need)

// wednesday hates the new girl. //

warnings: minor character death (not that important) wednesday being mean, wednesday being a jealous asshole, sensitive reader, crying, harsh words. angst but happy ending <3

when your parents first sent you and your sisters to a boarding school in vermont, you tried your hardest not to be upset about it. you understood your mothers death impacted your father in ways you couldn’t imagined. you were sure it impacted you in ways he could never fathom as well— but you couldn’t help but feel like an outcast on the first day. your older sister elise was fitting in great, as soon as she showed up. her high grades put her in honors classes, and her contagious smile along with that charming, intelligent intellect caused people to migrate to her quickly. your younger sister sabrina was no different, she was beautiful, and had the best style out of anyone you’ve ever met. it wasn’t hard for either for them to make friends.

you however, tugged at the longsleeves of your tight black cropped top, and you kept your eyes open and aware of your surroundings. everyone at the school looked like they were either rich, or smart as hell. “hey i really like your jeans.” a tall, dark haired brunette tells you as she approaches you. you smile, “thanks! i love your cardigan.” you compliment her, and she smiles back at you. “i’m yoko. i think your my new roommate.” she admits, and your eyes widen. “oh shit, seriously? i haven’t even gotten a chance to see my roommate yet. i just put my stuff on the empty bed… but the rooms nice. you’ve kept it clean!“ you begin to ramble, and yoko laughs. “you seem nice. i think we’re gonna get along great.” she proclaims, flashing you a grin.

yoko was your first friend at nevermore academy. she was bright, generous, gave great fashion advice, and was someone you knew you could trust right away. it didn’t take long for you both to become nearly inseparable. that’s when you begin getting close to enid, divina, and even bianca; some of yoko’s other close friends. you and enid have the most in common. you find yourself hanging out with the blonde whenever your roommate is busy with nightshade society. it isn’t until you and enid have plans for the mall one afternoon, that you end up in her room. that’s when you see her. wednesday addams. her long braided black hair, her long lashes, and that all black outfit. you had barely seen her in the halls, but had no classes with her at all.

“i hope you and your friend aren’t planning on staying here. i’m working on my novel.” wednesday states, barely looking up from her typewriter. you look at her with pure interest, “you’re a writer? what are you writing about?” you ask curiously, and she rolls her eyes. “things a peabrain like you wouldn’t understand.” she mutters, and you giggle at her cattiness. “ignore wednesday, she’s allergic to color and all things nice. let’s go y/n, the mall closes at 6 today.” enid says, as she grabs her coat. “okay! sabrina’s tagging along, she said she needs some new shoes.” you explain, and enid smiles, “that’s fine! i love her! i heard she has a crush on joey from physics.” enid admits, and you gag. “ew! he looks like one of those guys that doesn’t wash their ass.”

enid bursts into fits of laughter as you both make your way to the door, “bye wednesday, it was nice officially meeting you.” you wave at the raven haired girl, who doesn’t even spare you a glance. “i wish i could say the same.” she grumbles, and you can’t fight the smile that tugs on your lips as you and enid make your way out. as you two walk down the hall, and towards sabrina’s room, enid pipes up; “hey, don’t take anything wednesday says personally, she’s like that with everybody.” enid explains, and you shake your head. “oh it’s fine! she’s pretty cute.” you admit with a blush, and enid shakes her head in disbelief. “wednesday and cute don’t belong in the same category. maybe violent, or irritable; even sassy fits.” enid jokes and you laugh. “well, she’s still pretty. even if she doesn’t quite like me.” you say as you walk into your younger sisters room.

“who doesn’t like you?” sabrina asks, as she looks away from the mirror where she was fixing her make up in, and over to you and enid. “wednesday.” you say, and sabrina furrows her brows, “who?” she asks. “my roommate. she’s in our grade, super grumpy, wears all black.” enid explains bluntly as she takes a seat on sabrina’s bed. “is she short?” sabrina asks and enid nods eagerly. “yup that’s her!” the blonde exclaims. “oh god, y/n/n, you like her? she’s emo.” sabrina points out, and you pout, “what’s wrong with that?!! she’s totally cute!” you declare, and enid flashes you a pointed look. “and totally hates you.” she reminds you, and you blush sheepishly. “hate and love are two very similar things.” you joke causing enid to groan and throw a pillow your way.

you start seeing wednesday a lot more after that. you always go out of your way to say hi to her, or even talk to her. even though she never seems excited to talk to you, she doesn’t ignore you, and you take that as a good sign. sabrina and you have always been the closest out of your siblings; she was only a year younger than you, yet you two were more like best friends than sisters. that’s exactly why she’s the first person you confess to about having a crush on wednesday.

“you can’t be serious, y/n/n. she hates your guts!” sabrina points out as you two eat lunch under the old oak tree. you had just admitted it to her, and the brunette was staring at you as if you had three heads. “i know! but she’s so hot! and have you heard her voice? ugh… i got it bad, the other day i asked her if she came her often… to school!!” you groan, and she shakes her head, chuckling softly. “damn… i for sure would have thought you would’ve fell for yoko… or even enid. but wednesday? seriously? have you guys even had an actual conversation that didn’t involve you trying to awkwardly flirt with her?” sabrina asks, and you nod.

“i was talking to her about her novel the other day… she’s a smart ass, but she’s definitely smart. like probably smarter than elise.” you admit, and sabrina laughs. “damn, maybe you should ask elise how to tutor you in the art of being a bitch.” she jokes, and you giggle. “maybe. she’s definitely too busy with jake. have you seen the way she gets when he texts her?” you inquire as you eat a cookie off your sisters tray. “yeah, it’s disgusting.” the younger girl says after rolling her eyes. “she still hasn’t talked to me because i stained her flannel. i got her a new one and said i was sorry!” sabrina exclaims, and you laugh. “she’s taking it personal. you’re gonna have to gravel. or just buy her food after her debate club. she’s always hungry after arguing.” you retort, taking a sip of your chocolate milk.

“ugh, she was made for debate. i’m thinking about joining the soccer team.” she reveals, and your eyes widen. “awww that would be awesome! you’d be great!” you say honestly, and she flashes you a smile. “thanks y/n/n.” she says softly as she finishes her sandwich. “hey that reminds me! my friend xavier was saying something about a book club on thursday’s at the library. you should check it out!” she says as she opens her backpack and pulls out a flyer. she hands it to you, and you take it, skimming over it. your eyebrows raise slightly, “huh, i actually think i’m gonna check it out. i need new book ideas. i’m tired of re-reading ‘black house’.” you tell her and she beams. “i thought of you as soon as he showed me the flyer!“

unbeknownst to you and sabrina, wednesday also received the same flyer from xavier. that’s how the two of you both ended up in the library on tuesday. you’re a bit early, and so is she, along with a few other students. you take a seat right beside her, and she glances at you. “are you lost? this isn’t the romance novel book club. they meet on tuesday’s.” she cattily remarks, and you chuckle. “i didn’t even know they had a club for that.” you admit, ignoring her comment. wednesday can’t help but continuously glance at you; you’re wearing baggy jeans, a tight fitted top, along with a pair of gray converse. wednesday is wearing an oversized black knitted sweater, fishnets, and a pair of black doc marten boots. her hair is braided and she looks gorgeous as ever.

“i actually don’t enjoy romance novels. it makes me feel like i’m reading really cheesy fanfics. my little sister gave me the flyer for this club. i need new book recommendations.” you say simply, and wednesday purses her lips, “this is a book club for thriller and horror novels.” she points out, and you nod. “i know. i read the flyer, addams.” you joke, and she looks at you. “what’s your favorite book?” she asks, and you blush sheepishly as you reach into your bag and pull out your old copy of ‘black house’ by stephen king. “i know it’s a bit basic but he really does have wonderful novels. i really enjoyed ‘she’s gone’ by david bell as well. the ending was a plot twist. poor girl.” you ramble slightly, and you blush as you realize she’s staring at you. you tuck a strand of curly hair behind your ear, your eyes meet hers, “what’s your favorite book, wednesday?” you ask her, sounding genuinely curious.

“the original frankenstein book is unmatched. but i suppose the haunting of hill house is good as well.” she answers curtly and you smile at her as she avoids your sweet gaze. “i too carry a copy of frankenstein around because it’s my favorite.” she confesses, making you grin. “you’ll have to lend it to me sometime. if that’s okay of course.” you say so gently she nearly grimaces at how soft your voice is. she reaches into her backpack, and pulls out the old copy, before handing it to you. you reach for it, but she pulls it away abruptly. “black house. i’d like to read it.” she declares, taking you by slight surprise. you nod vigorously, “sure! here!” you say happily, as you shove the copy of your favorite book into her free hand. you gladly take the original ‘frankenstein’ copy, and flash her a smile that makes her nauseous.

“hello everyone. i see we have quite a few eager readers. i’ve picked out a few good reads, and we’ll all have a vote on which one you all wanna read this week.” one of the teachers you hardly know interrupts your moment with wednesday, as she sits down in front of the group. wednesday doesn’t say a word to you during the rest of the session. though, she cannot seem to stop thinking about you as she reads ‘black house’. the little side notes you wrote— the highlighted parts you thought were important. she finds herself enjoying the book, and she can’t believe someone like you actually has good taste. perhaps wednesday misjudged you.

she’s pulled out of her thoughts one evening by your giggling. you’re laughing at something sabrina and her friends were saying. that’s when wednesday sees you take a hit of one of their wax pens, blowing the smoke in your younger sisters face, and giggling wildly. she shakes her head, prying her eyes away from you. nope. you’re still an idiot, she thinks. an idiot who seems to be interested in good books. but that’s your only redeeming quality in wednesday’s opinion.

“hey wednesday, are you enjoying the book?“ you ask as you approach the raven haired girl. wednesday looks over at where you were just sitting with your group of annoying friends and little sister. they seemed to have scattered, and she hadn’t even noticed you making your way up to her. “it’s not terrible. i truly enjoy the way he doesn’t shy away from the gruesome details and thoughts.” she explains, and you nod in agreement as you sit next to her. she doesn’t tell you to get lost even though she should. your girly perfume fills her senses, and she sticks her nose in the air as she looks away from you. “yeah, stephen king is already not afraid to cross any lines, but peter straub is totally fucked in the head. i like it.” you confess in a dorky way that makes wednesday turn her head and stare at you for a second.

“what?“ you ask curiously, wondering what she was staring at. “how did i never notice how much of a dork you are?” she asks, and you roll your eyes, blushing deeply— you pull your knees up to your chest, and you stare at your shoes. “maybe because you’ve never bothered to get to know me.” you joke, before looking at her. the sunlight is hitting your hair, and the way your bangs falls just above your eyelashes— wednesday never noticed how brown your eyes are. they change in the sun and she’s never noticed that about anyone. “well, you are insufferable… but i suppose i don’t mind speaking to you.” wednesday mutters, and you smile widely. there’s that nauseating feeling again. she wants to kiss wipe that smile right off your face.

“oh! i finished frankenstein! it was so fucking good but so fucking sad— i almost don’t want to read ‘black phone’. i know i’m gonna end up crying again.” you admit, and wednesday shakes her head. “you cried? i understand frankenstein is tragic, but crying is a bit dramatic don’t you think?” she asks, and you shrug. “i’m a sensitive person. here’s your book, thanks for lending it to me. if you have any other book recommendations i’d really appreciate them.” you confess shyly, and wednesday takes note of the rosy pink blush coating your cheeks and nose. she doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on getting to know her and talk to her. shouldn’t she have scared you off by now like she usually does with everyone else?

“thomas harris. silence of the lambs. i have a copy in my room, i’ll lend it to you tomorrow.” she states, and you smile widely. god she wishes you’d stop doing that.

wednesday begins to notice everything you do. the way you laugh, or mess with the holes in your jeans when you’re bored. you heart your ‘i’s’, and chew on your bottom lip when you’re nervous. you’re kind to everyone, and she hasn’t encountered a single person who has spoken badly about you. wednesday finds herself at a loss because she actually wants to talk to you, but she realizes she never wants to talk to anyone. she can’t for the life of her figure out what’s so different about you. or how she went from hating you, to thinking about you nearly every hour of the day. she even catches herself thinking about your giggle in the middle of class.

in december wednesday finds you sitting alone in the garden; a spot she enjoyed coming to be alone. just when she was about to tell you to get lost, she got closer, and heard the sniffling. “y/n?” wednesday’s voice causes you to jump a bit. you weren’t expecting anyone to be here and see you like this. you look up at her; those bambi eyes are red and full of tears, and your cheeks were stained, as if you had been crying for awhile now. wednesday forgets who she is and immediately feels concern wash over her. did somebody make you cry? was she going to have to commit murder? “what happened?“ she asks demandingly, before she takes a seat on the bench beside you. “i-it’s my moms birthday today…” you trail off, trying to hold back tears but failing miserably. “oh. did you call her?“ wednesday questions, and you shake your head, “she— she p-passed away last year.” you explain, and wednesday looks at you intensely.

“i’m sorry.” she sounds sincere, and it takes you by surprise as you stare at her with those vulnerable eyes. “she probably misses you as much as you miss her.” wednesday adds, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. “y-you’re sweet. thanks for sitting with me.” you thank her gently, and she responds with an eye roll, “i’m not sweet, and if you tell anyone i sat with you, i’ll cut all your pretty hair off.” she threatens, and you sniffle as you blush, an inevitable smile creeping onto your face. “you think my hair is pretty?“ you ask, and for the first time since you met wednesday addams, the heat rises to her cheeks causing them to turn a shade of crimson red. “shut up, y/n.” she says warningly, shooting a murderous look your way. instead of lookinh terrified like anyone else would, you stare at her with an expression of pure adoration.

things change after your encounter with wednesday in the garden. you catch her staring more than she normally would, and whenever you approach her, you notice she doesn’t seem as annoyed as she used to. sure, she’s still as grumpy as ever, but your presence didn’t annoy her anymore, and that was strange. she normally gets irritated with everyone, but you somehow have become an exception. wednesday was not only okay with you coming up to her and talking her ear off, she was also looking forward to it. thoughts of you and even your voice would plague her mind. she thought of you before she fell asleep, and as soon as she awoke, there you were on her mind like clockwork.

it isn’t until wednesday sees you talking to aaron from botany, he seems to be staring at you with a glint in his eyes. you’re smiling at him in that way that always makes wednesday’s stomach flutter. but you’re directing it at him instead, and that nauseating feeling she usually gets, turns into a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach. suddenly she has never hated anyone more than aaron jeffery. she glares at him; she’s certain if he notices he’ll probably shit himself. but he doesn’t notice; you do. you turn your head, and your eyes lock with wednesday’s tenebrous orbs. you light up at the sight of her, and now your smile is directed at her. you wave cutely, “hey wednesday!” you greet her from across the courtyard before looking at aaron. “i’ll see you next period!” you exclaim, and he nods with a smile as you rush over to the raven haired girl.

“hi.” you giggle as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. wednesday tenses up, “hi. what were you talking to jeffery’s about?” she asks, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. “we got assigned to be partners earlier this year in botany class, and we just sort of became friends that way.” you shrug, and wednesday has an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. “oh.” is all the shorter girl responds with, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “is there a problem between you and aaron? like some sort of secret beef i don’t know about?” you ask half jokingly, and she shakes her head. “i don’t like him.” wednesday answers quickly. “he stares at you like he’s never seen a girl in his sorry little life. don’t get me started on the way he dresses.” wednesday rants a bit, and all of your confusion seems to dissipate as a wave of realization washes over you. wednesday addams is jealous of aaron, because she thinks he likes you.

“but aaron is crushing on stacey mathew’s.” you remind her and wednesday scowls. “i don’t care. since when does that stop boys?” she mutters, and you tilt your head to the side, like a confused puppy. “wen… are you jealous of him?” you ask her, and the way you’re smirking makes her shoot a murderous glare your way. she’s not an idiot. she’s completely aware she’s jealous of that tall boy and his kind smile that wednesday doesn’t have. but to admit she’s envious of him, would be to admit how she feels about you. wednesday would rather die before admitting that your voice is something she looks forward to hearing every single day. or even how every time she reads a stephen king book she thinks of you.

“jealousy is a feeling, y/n, and we both know i don’t do feelings.” she declares trying to sound serious. you raise your eyebrows, “then you wouldn’t care if i said he was cute?” you question, clearly just trying to get a rise out of her, and it obviously works because she glares at you. “he looks like a burnt chicken.” she hisses, and you giggle wildly. “no feelings my ass.” you retort sarcastically, and the raven haired girls expression stays firm. “i don’t have feelings, y/n! much less any regarding you and that fried roach.” she snaps in that usually harsh tone she always saves for other people, and never you. yet today her stare is harsh and it’s directed towards you. the trace of softness you usually see in her big brown-black orbs is gone; instead there’s something inscrutable in her gaze and you can’t quite figure out what it is.

you frown, “no feelings regarding me at all? is that your polite way of saying you don’t care about me whatsoever?” you ask uncertainly, and she rolls her eyes. “i don’t care about anybody. everybody at this school is a dimwitted, supernatural moron with no concept of reality or the real world. if that bothers you, maybe you should just go run along and follow aaron jeffery around everywhere like a lost, pathetic puppy. the same way you follow me around.” her tone is so cold, and so unlike whenever she speaks to you. she sounds the same way as when you first met her. you blink a few times, and then, something terrible happens to wednesday. not the good kind of terrible that she loves— no, the terrible that makes her stomach twist and churn… your bottom lip begins to tremble and the heart she’s been so intent on hiding from everyone, falls into the pit of her belly.

tears well up in your eyes, and suddenly she’s replaying every cruel word she just said. they were all because you were right. she was jealous of aaron. “you could’ve just said you didn’t want to hang out with me. or that you don’t like me… you don’t have to be so cruel just because you know how i feel about you.” you manage to say while your voice shakes and wednesday can see the look of hurt in those chocolate brown eyes. you turn around and rush off, leaving wednesday alone with her thoughts and unwanted emotions. that interaction hadn’t gone as she planned, but what could she do about it? chase you and beg for forgiveness? admit that what you said was not only true but spot on? she was jealous, and she did know about the way you feel about her. though you weren’t aware of what she was feeling for you. the more she got to know you, the more she realized she liked. even the things she was supposed to hate, she found made those dead butterflies in her stomach resurrect and flutter around with pure life.

she found herself having to pretend to dislike your presence, but it seemed as though you could see right through wednesday and her grumpiness. you even dealt with it just to hang out with her. though, there were undoubtable moments where you just knew wednesday returned all those feelings she claimed she didn’t have. you would ramble on and on about a book or show, and when you’d look up her eyes would be on you, taking in every word. even when she wasn’t looking at you, she was listening. you knew because she remembered every detail, down to the silliest thing. though it was never silly to you, it always made your heart skip a beat. almost everything wednesday did for you, made your heart rate pick up. you noticed everything when it came down to her; the way her gaze would soften up whenever looking at you, or how she let you hug her and hold her hand.

yet, wednesday’s words sounded so serious and cold. you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, wednesday addams has hated you this whole time. maybe everything was in your head, and she really didn’t like you or anyone else at this school for that matter. maybe wednesday really was as heartless as she claims to be… but you don’t believe that. you can’t. there’s too many things she does that prove her wrong, yet if you ever called her out on them, she would most likely deny everything. if she didn’t want to like you, wasn’t that just as bad as not liking you? she knew she liked you, and she still didn’t want you. that hurt you more than anything else regarding your love life has.

when enid sees you crying she rushes in your direction, excusing herself from ajax and their mutual friends as she follows you towards your dorm. “y/n, what happened!?” she asks in pure concern as she follows you into yours and yoko’s shared bedroom. “did— did wednesday make you cry?” she asks cautiously, and you sniffle, nodding. enid feels a wave of nerves hit her. if wednesday was in a bad enough to mood to snap at you, maybe that meant everyone should stay clear from her today. there’s no telling what she’d do to people she actually hated. “what happened? did she say something to you?” the blonde asks patiently, and you look down at your converse. “dimwitted, supernatural moron… and a pathetic puppy. that’s what she thinks of me.” you whisper, and enid frowns.

“you’re none of those things, y/n. you’re a great friend and i know wednesday didn’t mean what she said. she’s just a grump.” enid points out and you shake your head. “i think she did, enid. i can’t keep trying so hard for her to like me. i should’ve taken the hint a long time ago and just left her alone.” you mutter, looking up and meeting enid’s eyes. her eyes are empathetic and sincere, “no, y/n, wednesday loves you! she just doesn’t want to admit it! she’s changed since she started hanging around you… she’s been nicer in her own little wednesday way. there’s less threats, and hate towards color or people. it’s because of you.” she insists, and you look at your fingers that you’re playing with nervously.

“i’ve seen the change, but until she apologizes or tells me how she feels herself, i think it’s best to keep my distance from wednesday…” you trail off, and enid can see the words hurt you to say. she frowns, but nods, “i understand and respect your decision, even it means i will have to deal with a very grumpy wednesday.” she murmurs and you flash her a sad smile. “sorry, enid…” you trail off, you thoughts immediate going to the raven haired girl you’re so helplessly in love with.

wednesday notices the change right away. it’s been a week since she said those mean things to you, and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. wednesday went from being the only person you’d seek out to talk to, to being the only person you’re avoiding. she feels like she’s been hit with the plague, because you won’t even look at her anymore. it drives her crazy when sees you and you don’t light up the way you used to, or even smile in her direction. she never thought silence (one of her favorite things), would drive her this mad when it was coming from you. she hated to admit she missed your voice, and all the things she thought she hated about you… like the way you talk too much, and practically shower in that girly perfume that tickles wednesday’s senses in the worst way. when she smells it in the halls her belly burns.

“she’s been miserable without you.” enid cuts into wednesday’s thoughts one lunch period, as she notices her roommate staring at you from the other side of cafeteria. you were sitting with elise and her friends today, looking absolutely miserable. it was no secret your older sister often was one of your biggest bullies, though it came from a place of love, the things she said still affected you. much like wednesday, she said things bluntly and honestly, not caring if she hurt anyones feelings. “she’s the one that decided to stop sitting here.” wednesday says back, her tone harsh and abrasive. enid rolls her eyes, “because you called her a dimwitted, supernatural moron, wednesday!” enid points out, causing everyone at the table to look at the two.

wednesday shoots daggers at the blonde, “i said it in regards towards everyone at this school!” wednesday hisses, and enid shakes her head in dismay. “it’s the same thing. not to mention you called her a ‘pathetic puppy’, don’t you have any idea how much your words hurt? especially to someone who has feelings for you.” she states sternly, and the raven haired girls careless expression falters. a trickle of silence passes, and wednesday speaks. “i didn’t mean it.” the shorter girl mutters, and enid raises a brow as she reaches for her fruit cup. “then why did you say it?“ the werewolf questions curiously, causing the short girl sitting beside her to sigh in frustration.

“because she was gushing over aaron jeffery!” wednesday snaps and enid raises both of her eyebrows in amusement. “and why did that bother you? i thought you and y/n were just friends; didn’t you say you hated the idea of love and romance because of your parents?” enid inquires, and wednesday grips the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles change in color. “this isn’t romance or love, i merely believe that y/n can do better than someone like that gross ogre.” she declares simply, and enid smirks, clearly not believing wednesday. “she can do better? as in someone like you?” enid asks with a shit-eating grin on her face, and wednesday glowers at her roommate.

“you may be my roommate, but i wouldn’t think twice about ripping your tongue out with my bare hands.” wednesday threatens the blonde, causing enid to giggle. “oh my god! you really do have feelings for y/n!” enid whisper/yells excitedly. “you have to tell her!” she exclaims, and wednesday keeps a straight face as she looks back down at her open book, deciding to simply ignore enid’s presence. “i mean, sure, you may have royally messed up by saying those things to the only person who’s genuinely not afraid of you, but she’s a sweetie. she’ll understand if you just tell her you were jealous.” enid rambles, and wednesday snaps her book shut, glaring at the blonde.

“call her a ‘sweetie’ again and i really will rip your tongue out.” she hisses as she stands up and walks out of cafeteria. enid gulps, and she looks over at you who’s watching wednesday walk away. wednesday’s head is plagued by thoughts of you. she goes to her room and tries to work on her novel, but she can’t concentrate long enough to get anything done. her homework got done later than usual because of how much she’s thinking about you. the raven haired girl sighs in frustration as she looks over at thing who’s sitting on the corner of her desk.

“i messed up.” she says aloud, making thing perk up at the sound of her voice. he makes his way towards her, and she looks at him with eyes of vulnerability. she’d never let anyone see her like this, but thinking about you and your face of hurt makes her feel enormously guilty. “what did you do?” thing taps, and wednesday purses her lips. “i… god this is embarrassing… i was jealous of aaron jeffery.” she says his name with disdain, curling her upper lip in disgust. “i know, i know. why should i, a superb young woman, who is by far the most amazing person at this awful place, be jealous of a burnt chicken like him? well, because y/n thinks he’s cute. can you believe that? she thinks he’s cute.” thing is silent while wednesday rants, finally allowing all of her feelings to come seeping out in her rushed words. “what was i supposed to tell her? that i think she has the most soul crushing smile on the planet and i would die to see it over and over again? that when she smiled at him it made me want to add him to the list of murders? she makes me sick every time she looks at me, like there’s a bunch of moths in my stomach that are about to fly out of my mouth. i can’t tell her any of that.” wednesday hisses, and thing taps, “you are in love.”

wednesday viscously glares at thing, “love is for morons!” she snaps, “you are a moron.” thing taps back, and wednesday goes silent. “yes. i suppose i am. i mean, i did let her get a way.” she whispers, and thing taps again. “talk to her. say sorry.” he insists, and wednesday purses her lips. “i’m not saying i’m going to, but hypothetically if i were to apologize, how would i do that?” she inquires curiously.

you rub your temples tiredly after you finish revising your essay for botany class. you had been doing homework all evening and were finally done. though, your homework was slightly prolonged due to the way your thoughts would trail off towards a certainly pig tailed addams. you would think about the way her eyes would pour into you, or the way her lips would twitch into the faintest of smiles as she would listen to you go on and on. yet, you can’t help but think about what she said. truthfully, you wouldn’t be so angry if she’d just apologize. sure, the words hurt, but you’d forgive her if she just said she’s sorry.

but she hasn’t even tried to speak to you, and that’s what hurts the worst.

*knock, knock*

the light knocks on your door cause your head to snap in its direction. an envelope flies under your door, and you furrow your eyebrows as you stand up and make your way towards it. you pick it up, your name is written on it and you recognize that handwriting anywhere. wednesday. you open the door, but there’s no one there; you can see thing thumping down the hall towards wednesday’s room. you can’t fight the smile that tugs at your lips as you open the envelope, and pull out the letter inside.

“y/n,

please excuse how late this is. i understand if you don’t read this, but if you do, would you do me the favor of coming to my room whenever you can? i wish to say a few things to you in regards of our last conversation. if you don’t come, that’s alright too. i’m deeply sorry for what i said. you were right, and i was jealous. you aren’t a moron, or pathetic. you aren’t like anyone at this school. — w.a”

your heart flutters in your chest as you read the letter. wednesday wants to apologize? was this some kind of trap to hurt your feelings again? you chuckle at the absurdity of this, but you can’t help but feel your cheeks heating up at the sincerity of the letter. you take a step out of your room, and close the door behind you. you hold the letter in your hand the entire way to wednesday’s room. when you knock the door flies open, and there’s wednesday standing in front of you with an unrecognizable look on her face. “you came.” she states observantly, had she really thought you wouldn’t? you were crazy about her after all. “you asked me to.” you respond softly, and there are those butterflies in her belly again

“i didn’t mean what i said. i’m sorry i hurt you.” she says, and her usual monotone is laced with vulnerability. your eyes often as you pull her in for a tight hug, “oh wednesday.” you gush as you squeeze her tightly, and she feels a wave of heat wash over her. she immediately feels okay as soon as you embrace her. “do you… forgive me?” the raven haired girl asks carefully, and you pull away, nodding eagerly. “of course! i… i guess a part of me knew you didn’t mean it. i know you’re not good with feelings, and that’s why i try my hardest to understand your reactions to everything i do. but i really hope from now on, you try your hardest to understand my feelings as well.” you explain timidly and she reaches for one of your hands cautiously. you gladly accept and interlock your fingers with hers.

“i promise i’ll do better. i’m barely starting to understand my own feelings for you, and they’re a bit overwhelming.” wednesday reveals, causing you to blush. “well, if you ever need help sorting them out, you know i’m here right?” you ask, and she looks at her for a moment. thing taps on the desk, “invite her in, moron!” and wednesday blinks as the back of her neck gets coated with a crimson blush. “would you like to come in right now and help me sort through them?” the goth asks smoothly, and now it’s your turn to blush. “i would like that.” you respond and she lights up as she steps aside, allowing you entrance into her shared bedroom. a wave of relief hits her, as she realizes you’re back and she doesn’t want to ever lose you again. that’s when wednesday realizes she may be in love with you, and that terrifies her.

though, losing you terrifies her even more… so if making you hers and keeping you by her side forever is what you need, then she’ll be content with doing so.

///////////////////////////////

a/n: this was my first fic on here!! i’ve never seen the netflix series so excuse me if i get anything wrong, i’m just crushing sooo hard on jenna ortega rn 😂

#wednsday addams #wednesday addams x fem reader angst #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #lgbtq #this is my first post #be kind #lesbian fanfic

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justhere4kpop · 11 months

Text

Needy and Clingy

Choi San x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, +18

Your boyfriend goes out drinking with his friends, and you join but you have to stay sober to drive home...however, your boyfriend certainly gets needy and clingy when drunk. Good thing he's cute.

w/c: 2508

tags: @byuntrash101, @gxlden-bxbyy, @yunbug, @starillusion13

Masterlist

When San said he and the guys were going out drinking I just told him to have fun, I don’t mind him hanging out with his friends, in fact please do. I knew I’d probably have to pick him up from the bar, he is a lightweight when it comes to drinking. I was just hoping he’d go out and have fun with the guys and stop worrying about work so much, how he looks, how he sounds, if his face was clear, did he look bloated, he ate too much. I just wanted him to have a good time. As he got closer and closer to the day of the team dinner he kept dropping some not so subtle hints asking if I wanted to join.

“The guys love having you around too.” he said while we were cleaning up dinner.

“I know.” I smiled. “I like being around them too.”

“And you know if you’re just going to have to pick me up anyways.” he pouted a little.

“Sannie? Do you want me to join you for dinner?” I looked at him growing tired of the little run around he was doing.

“I mean if you’re free you might as well, and you can have a few drinks and-”

“All you had to do was ask.” I cut him off. “If you want me there that badly I’ll be there. I don’t think I have to work terribly late tomorrow.”

“I love you.” he smiled and kissed the top of my head. “I just don’t think I’ll have the best time I can if you’re not there.”

“I already said I’m coming.” I chuckled and pecked his cheek. “Help me clean the rest of this up.” I handed him a plate.

Of course I ended up running late, I had to finish up some paperwork and lost track of time. I’m sure they’re already at least a few bottles in….lord knows what I’m walking into.

“JAGIYAAAHHHH!!!!!!!” San exclaims and the rest of the guys join, seeing me walk into the building….Oh Lord.

“Hi Sannie, how much have you had already?” I walked over to see the table of about 7 empty bottles. “Have you each had a bottle?” I chuckled.

“They started before I got here.” Yunho said still very sober despite the 2 bottles in front of him.

“Jagiiiiii” San whined.

“Hi baby.” I smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek but he wasn’t having it nor was I allowed to have my own seat. He pulled me into his lap and kissed me like he’d never see me again.

“Look how red she is.” Jognho pointed out.

“Not as red as he is.” Seonghwa commented.

“I’m fine! I’m better than you are.” San said, looking at Seonghwa.

“Here have a few.” Wooyoung handed me a glass and I took it with ease. I don’t know if I’ve ever been drinking with the guys before but either way this night was about to get interesting.

“No no, I’ll stick with two.” I held my hand up as Wooyoung tried to give me a third shot. “I have to drive us home.”

San pouted but loosened up as my hand started playing with his hair.

“You got a pretty lady boyfriend?” he smiled.

“I do, he’s probably the most perfect being on the planet.” I chuckled. “He’s kind, loving, handsome, knows how to take care of things, he’s funny.” As I spoke San’s face dropped.

“Ooohhhh, you have a boyfriend??” he frowned. “I wish I had a girlfriend as pretty as you….why are you sitting in my lap if you’re taken? Do you want to cheat on him??”

“No…Sannie…it’s you?” I chuckled and patted his head.

“Me?”

“Yes….” I sighed. Oh god. “We’ve been dating for 3 years pabo.”

“He’s so drunk.” Wooyoung laughed at my boyfriend whose face was as bright as a tomato at this point and had definitely passed the one too many point a long time ago.

“I am not.” he frowned looking at Wooyoung. Gosh he’s pouty when he’s drunk.

“You’re clingy and drunk, what if she has to pee.” Wooyoung kept at it. I see…pouty clingy drunk and chaos drunk…never good together.

“We’ll go together.” San argued back.

“Clingy.”

“No! In love! Sorry you losers don’t know what that feels like.”

Oh gosh and here comes the accent. Yeah….he’s drunk.

“Oh I know I don’t know what love feels like? Hmmm? Don’t forget who introduced you two.” Wooyoung got defensive.

“We’re soulmates we would’ve met anyways.”

“Were you singing before I got here?” I asked changing the subject.

“Wan’ me ta sing t’you?” he smiled.

“Maybe later.” It’ll be way too loud if he does it in front of the guys because they’ll start competing.

“I lub oyu.” he nuzzled into my shoulder.

“I love you too.” I kissed his cheek.

We got more food and the guys wouldn’t stop drinking, I made San stop before he vomited.

He started humming in my ear and swaying us gently while the others talked.

“y/n? How’s work?” Seonghwa said, looking over.

“Busy, sometimes it’s like I’m the only one who’ll do anything…I’m tired all the time and my god my boss is just oblivious to the whole thing.” I sighed. “Somedays I’m so close to walking out it’s not even funny…”

“Forever you’re my heart.” San whispered quietly, still humming to Star 1117 while holding me.

“Okay I better get you home, you’re starting to sing love songs again.” I looked over at my very red boyfriend, half awake but smiling like a lovesick fool.

“You look so pretty all dresss up.” he smiled as I held his hand to get him up.

“Yes yes my work clothes are very nice.” I chuckled.

“They’d look better on mh floor.” he pulled me closer.

“Sannie-”

“I lov tha way you say my name.” he kissed me.

Yeah time to not be in public….San is a sweet polite boy, he’s kind, caring, compassionate, literally everything you want in a partner….he’s also really fucking hot, nice body, cheekbones that I could cut my finger on, the softest lips I’ve ever felt in my life, and of course what’s behind those kissable lips…his devil of a tongue. Not to mention the bigger devil just hiding under the waistband of his pants.

“San, you gotta help me a little here baby.” I said, trying to pull him out of the car to get up to our apartment.

“Isn’t your boyfriend up there?” he pouts

“Not right now he’s not. Please stand up.” I pulled him up. I see he forgot we were dating….again…. “You’re still my boyfriend, and seeing as you’re in the car and not the apartment I’m not lying.”

“Oh…right.” he giggled and got up. “I have the prettiest girl in the world.” he held my hand and I walked him to the elevators.

Once we got inside the quiet apartment I got his shoes and coat off. You’re probably thinking to yourself, “Y/n…why do you put yourself through this?” Well one…mind your business, two it doesn’t happen often, he knows he’s a lightweight, I like it when he lets go and has fun, three look at those puffy cheeks he’s so cute.

“Sannie you should go shower, you had dance practice today and you’ll feel better in the morning if you do.” I held his cheek since he was leaning in to kiss me again.

“But I’m just gonna get all sweaty gain.” he pouts. “You’re so pwetty baby.”

“Thank you. You’re drunk.”

“Drunk on youuuu.” he captured my lips again. “Pleaseee I can treat you so good baby.”

“San, you’re drunk I really don’t want you to-”

“I won’t regret it! Besides I’m much better, this is our apartment, you’re my girlfriend, we’ve been together for 3 years 360 days 51 weeks 4 minutes 29 seconds, our 4 year anniversary is next week, I want this completely sober, completely hammered, and everywhere in between.” he kissed me again.

Sometimes he really has a way with words….that damn tongue.

“Please let me thank you for being with me.” he kissed me again, and again and down my jaw and pulled my hips towards him. “Need you so bad Jagi.” he groaned.

“San….” I was losing this battle, he was needy…clingy….and just straight up down bad.

“Please let me have a taste.” he whispered sinfully in my ear.

Damn Tongue.

My knees shook as he kissed down from my ear to my neck, his hands moving down to hold me up. He picked me up with such ease, the only thing giving away his intoxication was the slight wobble he had. He threw my clothes off making our way towards the bed calling them the biggest distraction he’s ever had.

“I love you.” he sat up to undo the belt on his pants to leave him in the white tee he was wearing and just his boxers, already tenting as he threw the pants on the ground. His skin was this light golden that practically gleamed in the right lighting, the golden hue of the streetlamps causing him to look ethereal.

“I love you.” I said back as he reached forward for my hand and I laced our fingers together.

He kissed down my chest undoing the bra I had on with one hand, he made his way down my stomach stopping just above the panties I had put on for today. Ever the dramatic he is he decided to take these off with his teeth rather than his hands, slowly dragging them down my legs until he could pull them off and throw them behind him. He brought one of my legs up to his shoulder and began trailing kisses down from my ankle. I was getting flustered and hot, a little worked up and just in awe of what such a simple act can do. He was getting closer and closer to where I wanted him, I’m sure he could smell it, could see just how wet I was getting.

“This all for me?” he asked looking up at me. I nodded at him. “Use your words baby.”

“Yes Sannie….all for you.” I moaned as his tongue darted out between my folds, his lips encased my clit as he started to suck gently on the bundle of nerves. He was on a mission, he was starving and needed whatever he wanted. His one hand hand my hip pinned down so I couldn’t buck into him his other had long since let go of my hand so he could use his fingers to get me closer and closer to that sweet bliss I craved at this point.

“It’s been too long baby, haven’t tasted you in forever….haven’t felt you in forever.” he moaned as his finger made a squelch. His own hips moving against the bed desperate for some friction.

“San…fuck…right there.” I moaned and bit my lip as he found that soft spot inside me.

“Let them hear you, get another noise complaint.” he smirked and began to rub just against that spot, my hips jerked and I could feel the coil threatening to snap. “Come on baby girl, looks at you so pretty.” he went back to using his tongue on my clit.

I moaned out his name as I came all over his hand and face, his chin dripping in arousal. He licked his fingers clean and sat back to take his shirt off, then his boxers, a wet spot forming right where the head of his cock stands. He took his boxers off and moved forward to capture my lips.

“I love you jagiya, you’re so perfect. Perfectly made for me.” he kissed me hard and slid his cock over my folds, my hips twitched when he hit my clit.

“Please.” I moaned out wrapping a leg around his hips.

“Fuck, no matter how many times I make love to you, it’s always like the first time. Feel like I could bust right now.” he groaned as his hips started moving slightly. “Fuck baby…” he smirked.

I could get lost in the noises and whimpers he makes, almost as good as his singing voice. He gets so needy when drunk. Just the little whimpers in my ears as his hips snapped into me had the sheets drenched in another second, my second orgasm hitting me hard.

“Fuck you feel so good.” we both said in unison.

He reached down between us to play with my clit, the sensitivity hitting like a ton of bricks.

“Shh it’s okay, Sannie’s got cha. Clenching me so tight baby I might bust soon.” he moaned loudly.

He threw my legs over his shoulders, hitting deeper and deeper with every thrust.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl, fucking those moans right outta ya huh? Gonna cum on my cock again pretty?” he groaned.

“Fuck, Sannie, oh fuck please.” I moaned and he pressed down harder on my clit, this time soaking the sheets and our lower halves.

“Oh fuck that’s so hot, baby can I cum? Please? I’ve been good, treated you so good…even made a mess. Please can I cum.” he begged adding kisses for extra insentive. “Please.”

“Please.” I nodded and he let my legs go as his hips jolted sporadically as he came.

“I fuckin’ love you, so damn much.” he kissed into my hair and then down my face to my lips.

After getting cleaned up together this time, and replacing the sheets, it was finally time for bed. I fell asleep in my favorite place in the world.

“Honestly Jagiya, I don’t know how you put up with me when I’m drunk.” San chuckled hearing me call off from work the next morning.

“You make a pretty convincing argument when you want to.” I laid back down and kissed him.

“I meant it when I said I love you.” he rubbed our noses together.

“I never thought you didn’t mean it lover boy.” I chuckled.

“The guys and I were talking before you got there and well…I was going to wait to give you your present next week, seeing as it’s out anniversary…but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” he smiled and rolled over opening his bedside table and turning back around. “y/n? You make me happier than a kid in a candy store, and smile brighter than the stars in the sky. I think you’ve waited long enough to hear me ask you this and I think 4 years is good enough to know that I don’t want anyone else. Will you marry me? Choi Y/n?”

“Who said anything about taking your name.” I kissed him tears in my eyes and slipping the ring on. “My boyfriend is going to be so upset when he hears I got engaged.”

“I think your fiancee is going to be much happier from now on.” he chuckled but rolled his eyes ever so slightly.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #choi san #san #san x you #my writing #my stuff #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut

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