#it’ll be a while until we’re close to normal
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Saccharine | Act Two
Male Reader x (G)I-DLE Yuqi
[Act 1] Act 2 (~14.7k words) [Act 3]
Note: this is not intended as a standalone story. If you haven’t already read Act One, I’d highly recommend doing so before reading further so that you don’t miss out on important context.
As the dawn of the final day of 2021 breaks over the horizon, you finish acquiring the answer to your earlier inquiry. Apparently, nothing awaits, as for the first time in a long while, swaths of darkness have been painted over your hours of slumber. It’s been a stark contrast, even compared to the mundane manifestations that have previously filled insignificant periods. Especially for a mind as active as yours, it’s become an unwelcome disruption to your expected existence, plunging you into a deep fatigue that you’ve been unable to shake. And to top it all off, another disruption awaits you upon awakening—this time landing squarely in your inbox.
ASong4You: I’m going to be with Soyeon the whole broadcast, so if we’re going to meet up again, it’ll have to be at or after the afterparty
ASong4You: Should I look for you somewhere?
For as much as she dislikes being called cute, it’s honestly adorable how straight she’s playing this. As if it’s completely normal to have someone make you see stars upon the first time meeting them in person. But the truth of how rattled she is reveals itself in the vulnerability she’s exposed. So, you might as well pretend to play along. Somewhat.
TurnThePage: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s easy to find me at the afterparty
TurnThePage: We’ll see how it goes from there
The read notification acts as enough of a response for you, and you close the app. Until a realization hits and you reopen it.
TurnThePage: Also bring me my fucking scarf
You see another read receipt and the beginnings of a message, but then, a pause. You immediately know; you can hear the laughter she’s undoubtedly doubled over with—the memory echoing in your mind clearer than the chirps of the birds outside your window.
ASong4You: Fuck no, this thing’s comfy as hell
TurnThePage: THAT’S THE POINT
ASong4You: Alright fine, but only if you ask nicely
You nearly do as she asks, but pride jumps in front of the word “please” in your mental dictionary and refuses to allow you access. So—just like you’ve always done—you pivot.
TurnThePage: What if I come gift wrapped with a little bow on top
This time, the memory echoes resonate through your mind long before your phone vibrates with a response. The clarity is borderline concerning, but you cast it aside as you return to her response.
ASong4You: Then you just might get me to do as you ask
TurnThePage: I still don’t get why I have to do something to get my stuff back
ASong4You: To be fair you never had to give me it in the first place
TurnThePage: To be fair, they’re still there, aren’t they?
Read? Yes.
Replied to? Of course not. All you’re left with is a protracted silence that paints a picture worth a thousand words.
TurnThePage: You know what, maybe just keep it for now
TurnThePage: You never know when you might need it, especially at this time of year …
ASong4You: I swear to god I’m going to give you bruises that’ll make mine look like fingerprints in comparison
TurnThePage: Wouldn’t want it any other way.
What a way to start the morning. Your routine passes by in a flash, leaving you facing a familiar screen and the unfamiliar dilemma of what to do with a few hours of free time. Your mind casts itself back to her earlier statement and her plans for the day, inspiring an idea that influences your plans for its remainder. While you may have professional obligations at this event, there’s no reason you can’t benefit from some personal profits along the way. So, you send a few quick emails that net quicker responses, and from there, you’re off to the races. You stockpile a selection of questions, feebly attempting to justify this personal project’s importance, and, a few hours later, you leave. Well ahead of schedule; just in case.
You arrive alone, head held high as you greet the familiar security staff who wave you right on by. This time, you're more selective in your choice of targets—more specific in the questions you ask them. You keep the conversations short, just barely long enough to glean the necessary information without claiming a spot amongst their memories of the night. No more than an hour passes before you know exactly where every performer will be and when they'll be there, affording you clarity on where you want to be and where you need to avoid.
Your efficiency is quickly rewarded as once again, even though you have hours until the broadcast goes live, the performers begin arriving in droves. With your opportunity fast approaching, you tap into the vast repository of knowledge you’ve gleaned over the past couple of years and make a few stops along the way towards your destination. Once your hands are full of items that you know idols tend to request during waiting periods—water, fans, phone chargers, etc.—you step into the waiting room reserved for an absolute all-star lineup of idols tonight.
One by one by two by one they arrive until ultimately you’re flanked by five. Some of the hottest faces in the industry—figuratively and literally—sit around the table with you, shining brighter than spotlights as you all share war stories and discuss the year in retrospect. Hwang Yeji, leader of ITZY, is happy to share about her members’ Christmas craziness and her own ambitious New Year’s resolutions. Kim Minju, Music Core host and alleged actress, shares about her particular difficulty facing the struggles that all the IZ*ONE members must be feeling post disbandment. An Yujin and Jang Wonyoung, maknaes of the aforementioned group and mega stars of their new one IVE, provide their own insights on the struggles and successes of the past year of their lives. But it’s the sixth member of the conversation you have the most questions for. Because Cho Miyeon is the one who sits alongside you as you ask her question after question about the time spent since she last stood under the spotlight seven months ago.
Under this pretense of an interview—some project about this year being the liberation from lockdowns and what it means to those with fans around the world—you foster familiarity and fondness in the hearts of these fellow aspirants, these industry peers that a fool might allow themselves to call “friends”. Your initial questions are precise, measured, and specifically aimed towards achieving one goal in particular: endearing yourself to the ally of your enemy before your date with the devil. Even as the performers come and go, changing outfits and patiently sitting until their perfect faces are painted enough to be “presentable”, you keep the conversation alive. At first, you keep the flame lit with convenient kindling, sharing stories you’ll happily let leave this room and asking questions you prepared well in advance. However, the group’s congregation precedes two hours of waiting for the broadcast to begin—and that’s not even mentioning the two or so more that’ll pass before they’re scheduled to go on stage. In an effort to hold back the darkness, your stories become less selective and secrets begin to slip past your lips amidst the sea of words pouring out from all involved. You respond to a question about how you choose the topics to write about, then add on an explanation of how you choose what not to write. From there, the conversation shifts, and Yeji ends up sharing a dream that’s been haunting her—one about love and loss and the end of life. You share your sympathies and nearly get far more specific about your own experiences before you catch yourself and course correct, leading the conversation elsewhere. The IVE duo puts forth quite the interesting tale of adapting to dorm life with their new quartet of members and the difficulties of rewriting their tendencies from living with the IZ*ONE members. Once again, you share a similar story and then a bit more, telling of your own shock when your editor had recently been fired and the difficulties of finding a suitable replacement. Not every thread of conversation ends up involving you, but many do, leaving you with an ever-shrinking suite of “safe” stories to share. It truly is a lovely interview. It's also the least important reason you're there.
You’re fascinated by how the conversation ebbs and flows, especially as Yeji leaves for her group’s performance and the IVE duo departs twice to do the same. It leaves you with further opportunity to inject a deeper sense of intimacy into the conversation, inviting the others to join you in confiding your concerns. Minju seems all too happy to oblige in one such moment, divulging to you and Miyeon the depths of her fears of irrelevancy in an industry so cutthroat—especially with a future so unclear. Before you can even begin to offer a response, Miyeon—someone who’s had no need to initiate a conversation due to the frequency of questions directed towards her—speaks up, sharing her own struggles in the aftermath of Soojin’s departure. You offer her the respect of absolute silence as she reassures Minju, revealing the significance of the impact losing only a single member had on her and empathizing with Minju’s struggles in facing a similar feeling but with such greater magnitude. It strikes you suddenly how precarious the platform of popularity must be for these rising stars to feel such fear in the face of the unknowns awaiting them on the other side of midnight. Once the magnitude of the moment has lessened, you offer what empty empathy you can before deciding on a more tangible course of action: deleting the recording, erasing the entirety of three hours of a potential transcript in an attempt to protect their privacy. Both immediately offer their genuine gratitude as they look to you with shock clearly visible in their eyes, refusing to allow you to diminish the significance even as you put forth a paltry attempt to brush it off with a claim that you can use some old recordings or something. Eventually, you all drop it and move on, even if they don’t share your reason for doing so. They never realize why you’re so willing to lie, why you couldn’t care less about the recording. Only you truly know that you’ll never be able to forget this conversation.
In hindsight, you'll find it funny how everything unfolded. Coming in, you intended to be memorable. You wanted to be likable. You needed Miyeon to smile upon hearing your name. In all aspects of your planning, you succeeded. You just never accounted for the effect she'd have on you.
The missing trio returns shortly after, and the conversation thankfully returns fully to simpler topics, allowing you a brief respite. You can’t help but let your posture slip as well, resting your head on the back of the couch as your body slumps to the side. It isn’t until you feel the couch shift slightly that you realize you’ve halved the distance between you and Miyeon, who seems to adjust her own position on the couch. But she doesn’t pull away. She moves closer … just slightly. Not enough to close the gap, but enough to tease the possibility. Even for you, someone so perfect at performing the part you need to play, it’s enticing—even more so when considering the events of the past week. With your current position atop the peak of anticipation, a strong breeze could be more than enough to unseat you, and instead there’s a raging storm of possibility seated less than a meter away from you, demanding you detour away from your current path. Somehow, you manage to resist your urges, reminding yourself you’ve come too far to divert from the opportunity at the end of the tunnel. As tempting of an unknown as Miyeon might be, you know you’ll never forgive yourself if you miss out on the opportunity to know her.
What is it about her that leaves you desperately investing time and effort into figuring it out?
How does she seem to have the most specific comments at the most opportune times?
Why the fuck is Song Yuqi the reason you can’t sleep at night?
Regardless, it ultimately matters little, as it’s minutes later when you rejoin the conversation and less than an hour before the quintet is called to get ready to perform. You stand as well, offering them thanks for their time and well-wishes for their performance before mirroring their hopes to see each other at the afterparty. Miyeon is the last to leave, reaching back to close the door and holding your eyes for two moments longer than you’d expect before shutting it and leaving you alone.
-x-
Roughly ten minutes later, their performance comes on the broadcast and you enjoy the f(x) homage before quickly tuning out upon its conclusion. With another two hours to go before the broadcast’s end and the subsequent mass exodus to the hotel hosting the afterparty, you concede to your fatigue and decide to rest your eyes. One set alarm later, the world around you fades and you drift off into the darkness. Upon your arrival in dreamland, you’re surprised at the darkness’ refusal to disperse, leaving you blind within an expanse of eruptions. On one side of you, you can hear the crashing of lightning as a thunderstorm rains down its wrath, while on the other, you can hear the crackle of flame as it spreads and ignites vast swathes of this obscured landscape. No matter where you try to look or turn, the dueling elements match your movements, perfectly mirroring one another as they come ever closer. Just as you’re about to melt under their might, you are quite literally saved by the bell as your alarm clock rouses you back into reality.
Only five minutes of the broadcast before the real party starts. Literally. You stand, stretch, then step out of the room riddled with remnants of secrets shared over the past six or so hours. Within the halls of the venue, you can hear the voices of the groups as they sing their final performance of 2021, leaving you alone among the staff and solo performers. Solo performers like Miyeon, whose gaze immediately captivates you as she confidently closes the distance.
“Hey you. How’s it going?”
“Doing good, kinda just still getting my bearings after waking up,” you answer, intentionally letting a yawn escape to sell the point. “What about you?”
“Well, I was looking for Soyeon, but I think my other members might have left a long time ago. Maybe I’ll see them at the afterparty but … wait, did you say waking up? What have you been doing for the past two hours?” Miyeon asks, jealousy spreading across her face as she arches a judgemental eyebrow.
You put forth your best sheepish expression as you explain, “Ah, gotcha. But, uh, yeah … I watched your performance—you were amazing by the way—and then decided to take a nap. It’s been a long day, so catching up for a couple of hours was very helpful.”
Miyeon’s eyes roll and arms cross as she scoffs, “Lucky you, I’m still exhausted!”
“I mean, I’ve heard caffeine can’t fix everything,” you say, teeing up your suggestion as you capture her eyes once more. “But it’s definitely worth a shot.”
“Or two,” she immediately adds, smiling in a way you can’t help but mirror. “You think anywhere’s going to be open tonight?”
“Speaking as a self-aware coffee addict myself,” you dramatically declare. “I’m absolutely sure someone was smart enough to stay open and cater to those in desperate need.”
You feel the corners of your lips climb up your cheeks as her eyes light up, brighter than a flash of lightning as she responds, “God, I hope you’re right! Then let’s go; you want a ride?”
“Of course, after you! We’ve been here for far too long.”
Your conversation from before resumes seamlessly, allowing you to speculate with her about the inevitable insanity that’s sure to define the upcoming countdown. From within the tinted windows of the company car you can see the last nightfall of 2021, a year you’ll define by shadows and the lights that cast them. It’s borderline hilarious how backwards this entire year has seemed, with your capitalization on lockdowns leading to terminally online fans thrusting you into the spotlight while (G)I-DLE’s scandal forced them to take a step back into the darkness. Some might take this opportunity to reflect, maybe even celebrate their growth and accomplishments; you know, ask the world to give them their flowers or something. Not you. You’d rather guarantee tomorrow’s bloom by spending today sowing seeds. So, you make absolutely sure to get Miyeon’s drink order right before you run inside and order the trio of drinks. One for you, one for Miyeon, and one for her manager. Just in case, because you’ll never know when you’ll need to cash in on the priceless value of a good word.
Later—a week, month, year from now—you won’t remember the words shared in the back seat of the car chauffeuring you to the hotel. Some matter, more than usual, but none of them resonate soundly enough to derail the train of thought chugging along through your mind: why does Miyeon, this wonderful girl who smells faintly of roses and whose cheeks get rosy pink near the end of her drink, tolerate her transgressions? You want nothing more than to ask, but you keep your cards close to your chest, knowing that now isn’t the time to reveal your hand. You’ve come too far to risk going all in now.
You need not test your patience for long, for shortly after your brief diversion, you hit a cluster of traffic outside the hotel—an impeccable indicator of your intended timing. Even from a distance, you can see the ever-shifting stream of stars shuffling into the hotel’s lobby, where you’re sure that a whole galaxy of partygoers awaits within. Almost immediately, you shift the conversation towards the delicacies on display, getting Miyeon’s perspective on her peers and their approach to parties. On one hand, it’s fascinating getting insights directly from someone within the ecosystem rather than interpreting the ripples that reach the edges of the pond. On the other, it creates the exact kind of conversation you’d hoped to inspire—a cautious yet fervent discussion of many of the quiet things everyone’s dying to say aloud. And with a significant number of idols across a multitude of generations congregating in the area, you have plenty of kindling to keep the passionate conversation ablaze, all the way through the line of cars and even up to the entrance itself.
You arrive together, head down slightly as you whisper back and forth with Miyeon, continuing your soft scrutiny of the other arrivals. Once inside, even though there’s a sea of individuals milling about, your eyes immediately find your intended target. Near one of the back left doors out of the main hall stands the only person who matters—a short little blonde wearing a cute black dress and an expression so shocked you’re surprised the whole building hasn’t short circuited. You find satisfaction in the surprise in her eyes as she desperately attempts to process your arrival. In that stunned countenance, in the vulnerability visible, you find your victory. You find the moment you’ve dedicated the entire final day of the year to. Now to find a drink.
After bidding Miyeon a fond farewell and wishing her luck in finding her other group members, you take your leave and begin wading through the crowd, intent on reaching a high-visibility area. You can't even make it over to the punch table before her hand is clasped around your throat.
No words are spoken. None are necessary. You knew the implication of your actions. You knew full well the exact contents of the message you'd send by arriving with another member of her group. And as you look down at her, you're met by the fire in her eyes burning bright blue, hotter than you've ever seen. Her seething expression presents a question. Your shameless smile presents your own. Somewhere along this charged connection between you two, a spark ignites the fuse. There's no backing out now.
It's only a matter of time before you two burn this whole damned building to the ground.
“Hey, glad you could make it,” you say, as if this whole situation were the most casual thing in the world.
“Just for once, won’t you fucking listen?” she asks, pulling her hand away and balling it into a fist as her voice drops dangerously low. “I know you think you have your reasons for hating me and I’ll even concede that some of them might be valid, but you have no reason to hurt her or any of my friends. So fuck off.”
You don't offer a response—at least not directly. You brush past her, gesturing for her to follow as you make your way towards your original destination: the bar and, most importantly, away from the center of the crowd.
Your tone is hushed as you speak, drawing her closer to you. It’s not a visual you’re especially fond of, but a necessary sacrifice in the name of privacy. “I’m not gonna stand here and lie to you by saying that my reasons for talking with Miyeon are entirely altruistic,” you concede, pausing for a moment as you smile at the bartender and give him your order. “But I am speaking the truth when I say I have no intentions of letting her get caught in the crossfire. Unlike some, I’m considerate enough to keep innocents from getting involved.”
You turn back and witness her reaction, drinking in the delicious disbelief as she declares, “How dare you! I give everything to make sure they’re not affected by my actions!”
Someone else might have believed her, but you know better. “What about the audio tech you punched while filming with your members?”
You find another flash of vulnerability in her eyes, but in a blink, it disappears, hidden behind her defenses. “That was the third shoot in a row he’d made a mistake and clearly he wasn’t listening to the previous warnings!”
“And the outfit you ripped in half mere hours before performing?” you ask, taking your drink from the bartender and sliding him a fair bit more than its cost. You give him a certain type of smile and he nods in recognition, swearing silence and allowing you to dedicate the entirety of your attention to the interrogation at hand as you resume walking towards the fringes of the lobby.
“The stylist showed up hungover with multiple botched outfits for our first ever awards show!” she fires back as she follows close behind.
Another sip. Another step. Anything to create some semblance of distance away from the crowd. “And the CUBE employee guidelines? The list of rules that every new hire needs to know in order to protect themselves from you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffs, but the sudden hurt in her eyes reveals the truth behind her lies.
“Alright, I’m sure you have plenty of excuses ready, but I think you’re intentionally avoiding the obvious question,” you say, stretching out the silence with another slow swig from the glass as you continue to walk. “Don’t you think that the best way to protect your friends from collateral damage is by not causing it in the first place?”
Her eyes avert once more, refusing to acknowledge you or the truth. “It’s not that simple. Just—god fucking damnit—please don’t rope her into this. I don’t know who’s told you those stories or what they’ve told you, but …”
She trails off suddenly, cut short by the singsong sounds of a familiar friend’s words on the wind. For once, you have no trouble finding her eyes as both of you tense upon hearing Miyeon’s voice in the crowd, moving in your direction.
“Well, it’s been fun, but I know that she’s looking for you, so—”
“I’m not done with you yet.” Her voice cuts in, ending your sentence as her eyes sweep across the room, scouring the sea of stars as she searches for the voice in question. “You’re coming with me—I’ve been here before and I know somewhere private we can finish this conversation.”
You raise your hands in mock surrender, smiling wide as you respond, “Very well, princess. Lead the way.”
“Do not fucking call me that,” she growls, grabbing your arm and all but dragging you towards a pair of nondescript doors amongst many others decorating the wall. Her surprising strength aside, you’re happy to oblige, following in her footsteps as the proximity lets you catch a whiff of something unfamiliar on the lips you’d so closely acquainted yourself with. With a sudden realization, you receive an unspoken answer to the question of what she’d been doing prior to your arrival; you discover what’s fueling the fire behind her eyes. You realize that she’s running on liquid courage as she quietly opens the door and pushes you inside. All the bright lights fade as she slips past and the door closes behind you, plunging you both into darkness.
Your mind’s still working in overdrive as you stand in the darkness, but as you place your drink down and break the silence, you can’t help but test just how long her fuse truly is. “Really, a supply closet? Could you get more cliché?”.
Even before she turns on the light—even before she turns and you see the fire in her eyes—you know your words have acted as a final spark just based on her posture alone. Because she does turn on the light and she does turn to face you. But she doesn’t look at you the same way. You’re no longer the threat you might have been ten minutes ago. No, when she looks at you now, she wears the cruel confidence of a huntress ready to strike. Guess who that leaves to play the part of the prey.
“Here’s the fucking problem.” A single step forward, shortening the gap between you two. “You have so much shit to answer for …” Another, and she’s halfway to you. “But I’m so fucking sick of hearing you talk.” Once more, and you have to hold your breath to keep from fanning the flames of the inferno looking up at you. “So I’m gonna make you forget every sob story you’ve heard about me.” She continues, pushing her body against yours until you’re backed up against the wall. “Because I’m not the Disney villain they make me out to be …” Her hand wraps around the back of your head, pulling you close as she whispers in your ear, “I’m so much fucking worse.”
Her fangs flash for a moment before plunging into the side of your neck, nearly piercing your flesh as she hungrily sucks at your skin. Immediately, your hands latch onto her sides, desperate for any semblance of a tether to reality as your adrenaline skyrockets and your head spins. You try to snake a hand up her shirt—try to find some possibility of going on the offensive—but she immediately pounces, smacking it away as her own hands start exploring.
“Oh, not so tough now that I’ve got you right where I want you, hm?” she taunts, denying your ability to catch your breath or muster a response as she crashes her lips against yours. It’s so unlike you to be caught without an answer—so unlike you to be the one without a plan. Last time, things were under your control, but this time, any inhibitions you might have expected her to carry seem to have been left at the door. This time, she’s the one with hands up your shirt, scratching and clawing and exploring every centimeter of the chest that contains your pounding heart. Your hands shift down, finding a perfect fit as you cup the curve of her ass and lean into the kiss. The sweetness of cherry clashes with the familiar burn of hard liquor, adding to the endless list of sensations vying for your attention.
Your eyes finally snap open as her lips unlatch from yours and her hands pull away, allowing you the briefest of moments to inhale some much-needed oxygen. Even in her silence, you feel her emotions emanating throughout the room. Temptation. Jubilation. Vexation. Exhilaration. Oh, and lust. So much fucking lust. All it takes is the tiniest raise of her eyebrows and a hint of a smirk to fuel the flames as she sinks to her knees. There’s a dark edge to her words as her eyeline meets your beltline and she chuckles, “Wow … looks like someone’s excited to see me.”
You can’t help but let out a small laugh of your own as you wonder how you’ve let things get this far. It’s you. It’s her. It’s the fact that you’re about to do this in a fucking storage closet of all places. The fact that you managed to survive meeting her and still came back for more. None of the choices that’ve led you to this moment have been correct, but you’re already flying Bad Decision Airlines, so why not fly first class? “Aren’t there more important things that mouth should be doing?”
Her eyes roll with the poise of a practiced gymnast as she deftly unbuckles your belt and unbuttons the top of your slacks. The ungodly glint in her eyes gleams once more as she leans forward and captures the zipper between her teeth, dragging it down as she looks up at you with wicked intent. Go ahead, you hear through unspoken words. Keep pretending like you’re in control—like you’re not putty in my hands.
Your pants hit the floor, and you’re concerningly convinced that your pride’s soon to follow. Her hands glide up your legs, ghosting over your calves and teasing your thighs before snaking their way inside the underwear your cock has been straining against since you first laid eyes on her. Immediately upon contact, you can’t help but shiver. Not because of the cold—that’d be impossible with this much heat in the room. It’s the culmination of the anticipation that’s been building within you all week, no, for months now. If not longer. … Definitely longer.
And it’s all been leading up to this: your cock pulsing with anticipation as she drags your underwear down and takes it in her hands, letting her warm breath wash over it as her tongue runs over her lips and she reaches out to—
You both freeze, locking eyes. She sees the conflict in your eyes. You see the concern in hers. You both stop—separating as she rises from the ground and you get dressed in a hurry—because you both heard the same songbird from before, this time singing your name as she searches through the crowd.
“What. The. Fuck.” Her not-quite-question hangs in the air, acting as accusation, bewilderment, chagrin, distrust—nearly a whole alphabet of bad vibes—all at once.
You raise your hands in the air, attempting to act innocent for once. “Hey, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Obviously, that’s a lie and it slips seamlessly off your tongue. “I had no ill intentions when getting to know Miyeon better and growing our professional friendship.” That’s a lie too. “I was genuinely enjoying talking with her.” That one … isn’t?
Ultimately, her skepticism never leaves, but she forces herself to do so. After taking a quick peek out of the door, she slips out, rejoining the ever-shifting mess of a crowd that continues to speak so many words while saying so little.
-x-
Shortly after—specifically after finishing your drink—you do the same, sneaking out and finally joining the New Year’s Eve party in earnest. You rub shoulders with a couple managers, compliment the dress of a soloist, and even round out the numbers for one group’s drinking game.
Once you finally step back and return to the periphery to get a refill, you get a wonderful view of the lobby and the celebration of the industry you’ve spent the past four years trying to conquer. Surface level analysis would likely call it beautiful; those with a bit more insight might point out the darker components that keep the machine running smoothly. But as entrenched as you are, you know the truth can be found somewhere between the two extremes. Nights like tonight, where the honest truths spoken earlier drown out the honeyed lies you hear all around you, remind you that the pressure exerted by the spotlight on these young stars surrounding you can produce truly resplendent diamonds. And looking out across the floor, it brings a smile to your face to see so many shining so brightly.
It’s just such a fucking shame that leverage is only found in the darkest rooms of the penthouse suite. As much as you’d like to linger on the line of thought, a familiar flash of brilliant blonde in the corner of your eye cuts it short. A quick glance confirms your suspicions: it’s a bad idea led by the best of intentions.
“Hey, you,” a bubbly voice calls to you.
“Oh, hey Miyeon,” you say, allowing the warm smile to naturally develop even as you struggle to silence your internal screaming. “How're you?”
“I'm good, glad I finally found you!” she exclaims, shining brightly as ever. “What’ve you been up to, enjoying the party so far?”
“Oh, you know. Mostly just making the rounds, getting to know people better. Listening to their jokes, laughing at most of them while finding few of them funny,” you say, sharing a shocking number of words for them all to be true. “What about you?”
“I found my pseudo-siblings! It’s always nice to catch up with Sana and Jiwon, especially since it’s been a little while since a big in-person event like this has happened,” Miyeon explains, smile unwavering even as you see her mind cast back to the past two years. “But all that aside, I wanted to introduce you to my groupmate and very close friend, Yuqi.”
Your eyes lock. Your breath catches as your throat dries up. Somewhere in the background, the music shifts to a slower song and you can even swear that the lighting changes slightly, casting a golden glow on her face. Maybe it’s all just your imagination.
What’s undeniably real is the smirk she wears so well, silently presenting you with a question even as the arch of your eyebrow presents your own. For once, she drapes herself in shockingly steady confidence, causing you to almost feel proud of how well she’s hiding the shared history between you two. This time she’s the one who shatters the brief silence, bowing slightly as she says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard nothing but good things.”
You mirror her bow, painting on your own smile as you respond, “The pleasure’s all mine; I’ve heard so much about you too. How’ve you been enjoying the party so far?”
You watch as her smirk widens, showing hints of the predatory smile she wore not too long ago. There’s no stopping your own expression as it morphs to mirror hers. Both of you know full well how much danger you’re putting yourselves in—how little subtlety there is to the game you’re playing. Each of you toes the line of letting slip your little secret, but neither of you seems to care. Instead, she simply says, “Oh, it’s been fine so far. Uneventful compared to what’s coming.”
“Indeed,” you volley back. “This is my first time at one of these New Year’s parties. Do you know if there’s usually a big event around midnight?”
“Isn’t there always?” Yuqi asks, chuckling incredulously as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Some people definitely stick around for the countdown,” Miyeon explains, her smile warm and welcoming.
“And the others?” you ask, clearly offering the bait for Yuqi to pounce on if she so desires. But she’s not the one to do so.
“There’s a reason the invitations suggested booking a room in advance,” Miyeon adds, allowing the implication to hang in the air as hints of humor find a home in her smile.
“Then I should be glad I’m so good at following directions,” you jest, refusing to grant Yuqi the satisfaction of allowing her to stare into your soul as you hold Miyeon’s gaze.
“Indeed,” you hear Yuqi growl from behind surely gritted teeth. “It’s so nice to come to one of these parties and not have to worry about unexpected circumstances.”
“Normally I’d agree,” you begin, finally flashing a genuine smile in her direction. “But what better time to have fun than tonight?”
“Fun?” she echoes, ghosts of a smile teasing the corners of her lips as her competitive spirit rises once more. It’s impossible to miss the unspoken challenge in her words; she’s daring you to define your definition of fun, like she’s dying to know if it matches hers.
"Isn't that what these parties are about?" you reply evenly, ever the professional. "A chance to let loose without the scrutiny of the public eye."
Her laugh is hollow and haughty as she shakes her head, seemingly in disbelief at your response. “You’ve clearly never been to one of these parties before.”
“Even the tiniest of leaks is too much of a risk for everyone here,” Miyeon explains amiably. “Too much to lose, nowhere near enough to gain.”
“At least not on this floor,” you add, allowing the unspoken words to speak volumes as you raise your glass for a toast.
This time, the humor reaches Yuqi’s eyes as her icy demeanor begins to thaw. “Now you’re getting it.”
With a clink of your glasses, the conversation shifts, weaving its way from topic to topic as the three of you discuss the cities you most want to visit, music of all languages, first impressions, and so, so much more. Expectations be damned, it isn’t anywhere near the clusterfuck you’d feared it’d be—if anything, it’s nothing short of really fucking fun. The chemistry you three share is vivid without straying into volatility, and as much as you hate to admit it, the conversation is at its most vivacious during the interactions between yourself and Yuqi. You, for once, hold nothing back: sharing stories freely and firing off joke after joke without a second thought. Miyeon acts flawlessly as the bridge between you two—quietly contributing to most of the conversation yet eager to jump in on a topic she’s excited about—acting as the light that allows your duet to shine. That, of course, leaves Yuqi as your partner in this performance, but not the Yuqi you’ve come to know. She seems different in this environment—less ferocity, more sincerity. As much as each of you still has a part to play, the lack of tension makes her all the more enthralling, drawing you in as her genuine laughter slices through the intoxicating haze permeating the party. But the shocks don’t end there.
The first time Yuqi tells a joke, you’re caught so off-guard that you can’t help but burst into laughter. The second time, you’re more prepared, yet you’re still left in stitches. And the third—where you end up saying the punchline in unison with her—strikes all of you out. Tears form in the corner of your eyes and stream down the faces of the other two, leaving you all gasping for air even as you laugh so hard it hurts. As you regain your composure, you look through blurry eyes and catch a flash of something in Miyeon’s expression. It’s hard to pin down—a quirk of the mouth or a twitch of the nose—but there’s something hidden somewhere under her radiance that you fear is recognition. It certainly doesn’t help when she excuses herself for a moment, leaving you and Yuqi alone as she goes to refill her drink.
“I never would have thought you’d be a fan of the NBA,” you admit, turning and meeting her eyes with ease.
“Funny you should say that. I’d never have imagined you’d be someone who loves hot pot too! There’s this place in Beijing that’s to die for; you’ll have to try it sometime,” she says with an effortless smile. On instinct, you smile back, but just like that—a single mention of China—and you’re back in the real world.
The one where her vile actions are afterthoughts and her victims’ faces are forgotten. “Maybe I’ll have to go there next time I’m in the country,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you struggle to quell the surging storm.
The one where she’s been invited to these kinds of parties from day one while your invitation has been four years in the making. Her eyes twinkle excitedly as she asks, “Oh, have you visited before?”
The one where she seems incapable of losing while even a chance of victory costs you everything. “Twice, actually,” you explain, sighing deeply. “Once to Beijing, and once to Hangzhou.”
The one where she’s gotten under your skin, leaving you defenseless as she holds a gun to your heart. “Sounds like some bad memories,” she comments, a combination of curiosity and concern across her countenance as she refuses to let your gaze escape hers.
The one where you’ll do anything to hide the shameful fact that you wanted nothing more than to exactly what she wanted and scream her name that night in Hangzhou. So, you make sure she’ll forget you ever mentioned it. “Well, the last time I was in Beijing was almost four years ago, when someone spent well over ten minutes verbally assaulting a poor production assistant. So there’s that.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you can feel their edge sever any connection that’d been built up over the course of the previous conversation. Her casual posture is cast aside as recognition and resentment both register, leaving only a smothering silence in the space between you two. Those eyes—sparkling just a moment ago with genuine interest—harden into smoky quartz. The edges of her lips thin and tighten, the earlier cheer fading into a cold, impassive line.
"You're judging me for something that happened four years ago?" she counters, voice low and coated in disbelief. “Most people would have forgotten something like that by now.”
“Most people don’t have the petrified visage of a poor stylist recounting your misdeeds burned into their memory.”
“Is that so?” she deadpans. “Tell me, was it Xuě? Lìlì? Who told you that story?” You meet her questions with silence, and she immediately pounces on the opportunity to continue on. “You don’t even know. You’re desperately clinging to a long dead justification and attempting to bring me down alongside it.”
Your blood returns to a familiar boil—the type only she can bring out of you—as you respond, “My sincerest apologies for the lapse in memory, but who are you to speak of justifications? The reason I can’t remember her name is because I was too stunned by the vitriol you were screaming into some poor man’s ear one room away from me!”
“He’d sabotaged my schedule, trying to make me miss an evaluation just before the final lineup was decided! He was trying to ruin my career!” Her reply climbs in volume, threatening to draw the attention of everyone in the vicinity as your tempers begin to flare and clash against one another once more.
“And why do you think he wanted to see you fail?” you ask, whispered words slipping out in a single breath. From your lips, a question. To her ears, an accusation. In both your minds, you know full well that the only part that matters is that it’s the beginning of an impasse. So now, you’re both stuck staring, waiting for the other to make the first move.
You just happen to be the first to do so. “We need to stop this; we’re getting nowhere, and we’re never going to get anywhere,” you say, exerting tremendous effort to keep your voice steady even as the pounding headache threatens your rhythm. “At least not on this floor.”
The look she gives you is incredulous, but you know her too well to miss the signs of intrigue hidden just beneath her mask. “What the fuck are you on about?”
“We’re both staying here, right?” you ask, pausing for a moment and earning a nod of confirmation. “Then we have a chance to truly make tonight memorable … maybe even have some fun along the way.”
“I don’t think I like where this is going,” she says aloud, but her eyes silently plead for you to continue.
Your smile stretches wide as the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable and dangerous as your mouth moves faster than your mind. “I think you will. I’ll message you my room number and we’ll go our separate ways—you can tell Miyeon that I was too tired to stay or something. You’re welcome to visit my room at any time, but if you decide not to, we’ll both have a quiet New Year’s Eve.”
“That isn’t much of a game,” she says, eyes narrowing in anticipation. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? There always is with you.”
“Of course, why play without stakes?” you confirm, laughing hollowly as you continue to dig your own grave. You’re too far in at this point—too invested in the lie to let it slide now. The game you two have played has always been dangerous, but now, with your pride on the line, you’ll accept nothing but a victory. You can’t lose to her. “I know that you’re coming back with a new album soon. If you manage to make it to midnight—if you win—I’ll make sure you shine brightest in the most glowing review I’ll ever write. And that’ll be it. We’ll both leave this hotel tomorrow and go back to our normal lives, pretending that none of this ever happened.”
“And if I don’t?” she asks, trying her best to remain calm.
She’s always brought out the worst in you. “Then you’ll come to my room and we’ll finally finish what we’ve been building up to for months.” It’s about time you showed it. “But I’ll write an article dragging the whole fucking group through the mud in the harshest condemnation you’ve ever seen, and the only consolation you’ll have is that only you and I will know it’s all your fault.”
“You wouldn’t,” she immediately retorts, but one look at the unhinged dance of flames in your eyes and she knows better than to test your resolve. “Fuck. You would. You absolutely fucking would. Why are you like this?”
It takes you a moment to gather your strength, but you reach deep into your bag of tricks and pull out a neglected yet powerful weapon: the truth. “Because I’m tired of seeing you escape the consequences of your actions. I want to see you make a decision that matters for once. And honestly, I’m just curious if you’re going to be able to sleep at night knowing you missed the chance for me to make all your dreams come true.”
You see hints of the ghost of her competitive spirit once more in her eyes, but it remains mostly hidden, obscured by the smolders left in the wake of the fire that burned so bright. “Yeah? My dreams are pretty hot.”
“Yeah? Mine too,” you fire back a moment later than you should, seriously unnerved once again by the specificity of her words. “Seems like we’ll both have to bring our best when you visit my room.”
“You’re so, so wrong …” she whispers, words exiting her mouth as if unbidden, captured by a phantom and transported to your ears against her will.
“I’ll leave you with your thoughts,” you whisper, leaning close to personally deliver your parting remarks into her ear. “Now, be a good little professional and smile as you walk away. You wouldn't want people to get the right idea about us, would you?”
You send one last synthetic smirk her way before departing, making your way towards the elevator as you check the time: a bit past ten, which means you’ll have to wait less than two hours for your answer. As you ride up to your floor, you send her your room number, closing the app before checking to see if she’d read your message. As you exit the empty elevator and see a flash of color in your periphery, your mind races with potential ideas. You immediately jump back in, hitting the button for another floor as you decide on a couple of places you’d like to stop by. Your mind is made up by the time the doors open once more, and you begin your preparations in full.
Regardless of the outcome, it’s going to be a long night.
-x-
No one ever views a high-tension elevator ride as a descent. Why would they? After all, the person closer to the top literally has the higher ground. However, the grimacing visage of the lone individual riding down towards another's room tells another story entirely, one that unveils just how little control they have over the situation.
The stop is sudden, shattering their reverie. A chime pierces the silence. The doors part, revealing a mockery of a red carpet and an empty vase before them. The figure exits, walking as slowly as they can bear. They reach an intersection and avoid the right choice. They walk towards the door in question. A single step. Then another. A third. A fourth. A fifth. A stop. A turn. A sigh.
An extended arm. An icy feeling. Cold metal. Another turn. Another sigh. An unlocked door. As expected.
The handle twists and the door swings open, revealing the dimly lit interior. What little light fills the shrouded space is amplified by the faint scent of rose. One sense is clear. Anticipation. The other is crystal. The sharp laughter of its inhabitant. Taunting. Beckoning. The lone figure allows the door to slam. They walk forward, braving the abyss.
-x-
The absurdity of the whole fucking situation hits you as you hear the hinges creak, ripping a cackle from deep within as you lay atop the bed. The door slams, and the soft sound of footsteps lasts only but a moment before emerging from the hallway is none other than the guest of honor, Song Yuqi. You capture her eyes and brace yourself for the heat, but the stare that meets yours is anything but. Her bloodshot gaze struggles to find your eyes as her eyelids fight an increasingly losing battle against the pull of gravity. Even as her sagging shoulders straighten slightly at the sight of you, it’s impossible to miss the lack of grace she normally displays. “Long nights?”
“And longer days,” she responds, clearly fighting back a yawn even as she paints on an insipid smirk.
“I know the feeling all too well,” you say, hints of sympathy beginning to seep through into your speech. “Come, share a drink with me. Maybe it’ll help ease your mind.”
Your words seem to inspire a slight awakening in her as she looks around and truly witnesses your handiwork for the first time. In your hand, a glass, with an identical twin on the bedside table alongside a bottle of your favorite wine. Scattered all around the room sit petals of rose, carefully arranged and lying so patiently as they paint a picture of your intended mood. You expected her to be here. You can only wonder if she ever believed differently.
“I could, but that isn’t why I’m here,” she says, sashaying across the room and leaning in close. “Besides,” she continues, overtly tipping your wine glass, allowing its contents to paint your shirt a dark burgundy. “We really need to do something about those dirty dirty clothes.”
You refuse to break eye contact, but your muscles tense at the chill running down your chest and staining your skin. Your hand shifts in a wordless challenge—one she’s all too willing to partake in—tipping the glass back towards her and causing a free flow once more. Admittedly, the effect of the sanguine liquid isn’t as dramatic flowing down the silk of her black dress as it is on your white shirt, but the view of her cleavage coated in crimson sends your heart rate into the stratosphere.
“We really do.” Your words barely have to travel as you stand and close what little distance remains between you two, casting the wineglass aside as you pull her into a passionate kiss. Her whole body melts into yours as your tongues clash, both of you fighting for superiority even now as you slowly push her back. You can feel the force of her heart, frenetically beating against her ribcage like a drum even as you both stumble and crash towards the bathroom. Once within, you push open the shower door, haphazardly turning the handle somewhere near the top as the deluge drenches you both. The sudden cold is a shock to both of you, earning simultaneous gasps as you watch the water coat her flowing golden hair before descending upon the midnight silk of her dress.
As the temperature rises, so too does the heat. Her soaked attire begins to cling to the curves of her body, and you're more than happy to do the same. Your hands grip and grasp at her breasts once again, savoring how perfectly they seem to fit against your palms. Hers find your hair, tugging insistently and intertwining pleasure and pain in the way only she seems to have perfected.
“Ffuuucckk.” The groan she elicits from you slips past your lips and behind hers almost instantly, sending shockwaves that resonate into the kiss neither of you has allowed to break since the water's initial shock. You barely have to wait before your moans are mirrored as she murmurs back, “God, the way you—fuck—how can you …”
The most minute of mercies is all you're willing to offer as you detach from her lips, instead tracing a perfect mirror of the path you'd taken sometime between a couple days and a lifetime ago: starting right behind her ear before nibbling on her earlobe, the lightest of kisses on her cheek and along her jawline, past the reminders of your indecencies, then finally all the way down the throbbing vein of her neck.
“I need to be inside of you,” you say, searching for her eyes and finding them somewhere amidst the storm.
“Right fucking now.” She finishes the sentence for you, nodding in agreement and gripping the hem of her dress as you tear off your belt.
Some part of you deep within sends a prayer of gratitude to the shower’s architect as you utilize the vast expanse of its luxurious interior to slam her into one of the drier walls outside the direct flow of the water. Her once-slumped shoulders heave from a lack of air and anything but a lack of anticipation, eyes wide and wild as they invite you to approach. You're all too eager to accept, planting one hand on her shoulder as the other reaches past your waist and finally frees your cock from the confines of your clothing. After blindly pulling her well-drenched panties to the side, you look her in the eyes once again—make sure that she knows the precipice you stand atop and that she's willing to jump with you. With the smallest of nods and not even a hint of hesitation, she steps up to the edge alongside you. Together, you take the plunge.
Immediately, the friction overwhelms your senses as you push into her, earning echoing moans from you both as you shudder at the sensation. “Fucking hell, you're incredible,” you growl, unable to silence the admission as you desperately focus your entire being into slowly progressing deeper.
“Keep fucking going,” she’s quick to growl back. “Don't you dare fucking stop until you're fully buried inside of me.”
"Of course, princess,” you manage to say even as you struggle to breathe. “Your wish is my command.”
"Fuck you, stop calling me that," she hisses through gritted teeth. "If you wanted a princess so bad, you should have invited Miyeon."
"But darling," you declare, drama dripping off your words. "I thought you wanted me to stay away from your friends? Or is it different now, now that I've got you exactly where you want you? Do you want them here to watch as you whimper and writhe under my touch, wetter than the ocean yet begging for more?"
“I fucking hate—” You cut her loathing short as you bury yourself to the hilt, ripping another round of moans from you both. Even as the heat between you two and in the nearby pipes rises, you can't help but revel in it, savoring the taste of your victory. You give her no chance to conclude her thought as you up the intensity, slamming your hips into hers at an ever-ascending rate.
While one hand remains bound to her breast, the other finds a home tangled in the soaked strands of her hair. Intentionally or otherwise, your hold on her tightens as the vice grip of her cunt further suffocates your shaft, granting you both the friction you've been desperately craving. The water quickly becomes the second biggest drowning hazard as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm you both—pushing you to the edge of ecstasy and tempting you to tip over it. “Holy fuck,” she sobs, voice strangled, scratchy, and nearly silent beneath the downpour. “You—you—”
This time, you're kind enough to allow her to attempt to continue, but her verbal communication skills fail her entirely. On the other hand, her body seems all too willing to tell you the whole story and a bit more. She's absolutely gushing around your cock as she clings onto you with more than just hands, seemingly unwilling to crest the climax without you in lock-step behind her. Unfortunately, the universe seems even less willing to cater to her requests than you are, sending her careening off the clifftop without even a morsel of remorse. The spectacle is sensational, leaving you so close to finishing alongside her, but you’re anything but done here.
It takes a herculean effort, but you manage to pull out of her, causing her eyes to shoot open for the first time in forever as she stares daggers into your soul. Your view is incredible: you see her makeup, running and ruined as her tears fall alongside the shower's flow down her face. As much as you'd like to suffer under the scrutiny of her stunned stare forever, you have a better idea. You toy with her slight frame once more, flipping her around with ease as you push her face first against the shower's glass wall. Within seconds, you're back inside her, thrusting like a madman as cries of ecstasy escape her once more.
“You like that?” you taunt, mind racing a mile a minute as your thoughts try to keep pace with your thrusts. “Like the preview of what's to come?”
“What … the fuck … are you talking about?” she gasps between broken breaths.
"Oh, you couldn't possibly have thought that this would be the end, did you?” you ask, expecting anything but an answer as she looks over her shoulder and you watch the danger in her stare dance behind her eyes. “No no no, next I'm going to take you back out there and fuck you against the window so that anyone who looks up is met with the glorious sight of how much of a slut you are.”
Even through her streaks of tears—born of both pleasure of pain—your inciting yet inviting words are met by both defiance and delight alike. Her voice never wavers as she warns, “I fucking dare you to try it. You're just as likely to get burned as I am.”
Your eyebrow arches, intrigue clear in your expression as you comment, “I thought we agreed that we both like to play with fire.”
“Keep fanning the flames and you just might find out,” she says, the amusement in her smirk standing strong even as you continue ravaging her insides. Somewhere—hidden amid the seabed beneath the waves of pleasure rocking her body—she even finds the audacity to wink and you both find yourselves wearing a certain type of smile. The type you both wear so well; the one only worn in each other's presence.
The shower's flow and slapping of skin keeps the silence at bay as your serenade of sin shifts from semi-verbal back to solely physical. Her lower lip finds a familiar home between her teeth as you turn her to face you once more and choose to plant your own pair atop one of her swollen nipples. You're all too willing to nip, suck, and tease at the sensitive nub, elevating her moans even further until your profusion of pleasures pushes her past a fever pitch.
“Fuck me damnit,” she demands, accentuating her point with a roll of her hips that sends a spike of dopamine through every inch of your body. “Fuck me and don't you dare fucking stop until I cum all over your cock again.”
Your mind wants nothing more than to retort, but your body has higher priorities, using that precious oxygen to power your thrusts as you lead the chase towards your shared climax. It'd be a kindness to give her exactly what she wants, but for once, you're willing to indulge her desires, especially since you conveniently seem to want the same thing. So, you fight, prolonging the burn in the hopes that you can bask in the flames of her desire a little longer, long enough to let it scorch you to cinders until there’s nothing left but the ashes of your self-control.
You only have to stretch your efforts across a minute at most before you’re met with a familiar sight. Even though you've only seen them twice before, you immediately recognize the signs of her oncoming orgasm—the shaking of her shoulders and the hiccups in her throat that convey an uncannily familiar feeling. “I'm close,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against hers. “Where should—”
“Inside!” she rasps, straining to choke out every word. “Do it damn you—I want to feel you shaking as you shoot every last drop inside of me.”
“Jesus fucking christ—” Your reply comes to a sudden end as you cut your words short, knowing better than to ask for mercies she'll never give. Instead, you do your best to cling to whatever coherence remains after the damage her words dealt, desperate to experience the absolution that only the statuette of sin in your arms can offer. And offer it she shall, as it's only moments later that her orgasm overtakes her, suffocating your cock with her tightness as the pace of your thrusting is brought to a near stop. Any grievances you might have had are gone in an instant as the sight of what you do to her sends you soaring over the peak after her, twitching and thrusting until you bury your entire length as deep as she can take. Rope after rope of your cum act as the strokes of a brush as you paint her insides white, defiling her in a wholly new way that neither of you could possibly enjoy more.
Eventually, your orgasm comes to a stop, but you refuse to. Neither of you gets a moment to rest as you instead resume fucking her, sending shockwaves up her spine and down your shaft as overstimulation brings you both to the familiar convergence of pain and pleasure. Every alarm bell in your body rings in unison, begging you to grant it respite from the overwhelming sensitivity as you continue to fuck your cum into her. But just as you've always done when it comes to Yuqi, you ignore every warning sign in sight as you keep thrusting, continuing your assault long after she's burst through her breaking point once more. Her third orgasm hits harder than the previous two combined, forcing you to keep her upright as you give her everything she's ever asked for and more.
Her shaking form eventually stills and you finally yield, granting her the most miniscule of mercies by withdrawing your cock from her. She immediately slides down the glass of the wall, collapsing onto the floor as you try to steady yourself and stay standing. In your efforts to do so, your hand finds the shower's handle and you cease its flow, allowing the echoes of your extended recoveries to resonate throughout the space.
Black spots cloud the edges of your vision as your muscles ache in the best kind of way. A minute later, when your sight finally returns in full, you're met by the picturesque sight of Song Yuqi—one of K-Pop's brightest rising stars—burnt out and panting at your feet as she too tries to come to terms with what just occurred. After another minute, you finally bring your breathing under control, but she's the first to find her voice.
“You … holy fuck,” she whimpers, gaze still hazy as she searches for yours.
“Yeah,” you say, eternally grateful for the eloquence gained through years of writing experience. “I've never …”
“Yeah?” she asks, rubbing her eyes and finally lifting the fog. “Never what?”
“Any of it—hell, all of it—nothing's ever come close to what just happened,” you admit, offering her a helping hand she’s more than willing to take. “Don't you dare lie to me and say you're any different.”
“No, never,” she tells you, allowing the truth to finally be out in the open.
With so little distance between you two, there’s nowhere to hide as you hold each other close, daring the other to be the first to break. There’s something in her eyes that threatens to bind or blind you—something you dare not confront. Not tonight. Maybe never. So, under the weight of her stare, you allow yourself to be the first to look away. “We should get out of these clothes before we catch something serious,” you murmur vaguely in her direction. “I’ll lay everything out to dry; you take a shower and I’ll follow suit once you’re done. That sound good?”
“Something like that.”
Her monotone delivery leaves you with nothing but questions, but you know better than to allow yourself to search her face for answers. Instead, you step outside the shower, dripping moisture all over the floor as you finally strip out of the saturated suit you’ve sported since sunrise. Once naked, you turn to her and try your best not to stare as you take her bundle of clothes before she steps back into the shower. It’s only a brief moment, yet it’s the first time you see her fully bare, leaving even the most inspired corners of your imagination looking like a child’s scrawling in comparison to the artistry that is her body. While you’re sad to see her go, you love to watch her leave—eyes glued to the slight bounce of her ass and rippling of her toned thighs as she walks out of your sight and under the water flow once more.
As she washes away the traces of your transgressions, you do your best to lay everything out to dry. You hastily unfold her balled up dress and lay it out across the bathroom sink, then make your way back out to the room and lay your own clothing across the table and chairs in the corner of the room. You can’t help but crack a hint of a smile at the rose petals still lying in wait, but your eyes truly come to a halt upon the wine entering your view. Barely even a decision is made before you’re striding across the floor, stopping only once the bottle is within reach and the cork has been yanked out once more. The glasses you’d requested are forgotten as you instead drink straight from the bottle, savoring the flavor as its contents dull your senses and wash away your inhibitions. It’s a familiar feeling and a far better friend than you’d like to admit.
You barely even have to kill time before you hear the shower cease once more, giving you your cue to reenter the bathroom and be greeted by the goddess’ mortal form once more. The simple act of her standing there is a gift to you as your perspective presents you with a view of her perfectly smooth skin acting as the backdrop to the droplets’ descent, her towel telling the stupefying story of her subtle curves as it hugs her hips in an impossibly tight embrace. Your eyes fight gravity as they yield to temptation, traveling up the tense muscles of her back and past the sharp edges of her shoulders, continuing ever upwards until they pass her long locks of brilliant blonde; continuing still, all the way until you catch a glimpse of her eyes in the mirror and how they've been observing you ogling her.
“You should hop in the shower. I still need to dry my hair,” she suggests, surprisingly sparing you the shame of having been caught staring.
“Yeah,” you say weakly, averting your eyes and walking away. The heat of the water immediately relieves your tension, allowing you a moment you refuse to use for reflection. Instead, you rush through your cleaning routine, barely registering any external stimuli as you singularly focus on your sole goal. When you shut the water off a couple minutes later, you’re met solely by silence. When you step out of the shower, you’re met by your reflection as the only other inhabitant of the bathroom. And once you’re fully dried off and step back into the bedroom, you’re met with a sight shocking enough to restart your heart. She’s there, on your bed, hair splayed out like a curtain of gold laid upon the pillow as the familiar pink and red of rose petals laid delicately atop your skin, obscuring your view of her chest and cunt.
“This won’t do …” she drawls, dissatisfaction salient in each sultry syllable as her eyes lock on to the destination of roughly all of your blood flow. “You’re not nearly hard enough for me.”
With a single, impossibly deep breath, she blows away the rose petals, revealing the obsidian lace of the lingerie she somehow dried during your shower. Without hesitation, your body begins to address the object of her anger, growing painfully hard and even more so as she curls a single finger, beckoning you over with a look that could set the Han River ablaze.
You’re all too happy to oblige. As you draw closer, you notice her freshly applied makeup: smokey eyeshadow and ruby red lips that paint a crystal-clear message in your mind. She’s not here to fuck around. She’s here to fuck you within an inch of your life.
The bed is more than large enough for two, and as you lay beside her, you amend one of your earlier observations; while her bra has remained dry, her panties are absolutely fucking soaked. You turn to her, opening your mouth and intending to ask her how she did any of this, but a single finger laid upon your lips locks them and keeps you silent. Her lithe form easily climbs atop you, straddling your hips as she leans in, giving you a fucking fantastic view of her cleavage once again as she nibbles on your earlobe.
“My fucking turn.”
With a roll of her hips, she grinds against your shaft, making your cock burn with sensation as the lace drags up and down the sensitive skin. At this angle—you beneath her as she coaxes everything she wants from you and more—you’re caught under the cruelty of her grin as the light casts shadows that accentuate rather than hide her beauty. Another roll, another realization. She’s got you cornered—physically, mentally—she might as well have a gun to your chest and yet, there’s a thrill coursing through your veins. When she captures your lips, she does so with a ravenous frenzy, teeth sinking into your lower lip and pressing until they’re dripping with the blood she craves. There’s no mistaking the fact that you’re the prey she’s been hunting. All that’s left to decide is whether or not you want to escape, and you’re leaning towards no.
"Are you scared?" she asks. It doesn't sound like a question. It sounds like a challenge.
"No," you answer truthfully, knowing full well that in the midst of this chaos—this maelstrom of ash and anticipation—fear has no place. “I can handle the heat.”
“Can you now?” Her laughter is a wicked, dancing flame that sears your senses as you witness her smile run ruthlessly red as she licks the remnants of your blood off her upper lip. “If that’s the case …” she trails off for a moment, reaching back and grasping your length with the unimaginably smooth skin of her hand. “Then don’t come crying if you end up getting burned.”
In the next breath, she takes yours away, sinking onto your shaft with a devastating aggression. Immediately, your lungs begin to tense and strain, desperately searching for air amongst the shallow gasps you sneak in between the slamming of her hips. It’s futile. When she feels like this—hot, wet, and walls wrapped around you so impossibly tightly—you’re better off attempting to offer up a prayer than trying to seize control.
Her onslaught leaves you reeling, back arching and fingers digging into the curves of her hips as you chase an even greater high. She’s relentless, unyielding, as if she refuses to allow you even the slightest opportunity to halt her momentum. Even as she gasps in exertion, it still adds to your torment, sending you tumbling ever closer to the edge of pleasure and pain alike. Her nails rake down your chest, carving molten mementos of her insatiable desire that you won’t soon forget, yet the more these sensations blend beautifully amidst this consuming chaos, the more irresistible it becomes. The way she rides you is primal, rough, yet somehow, unmistakably her. Demonic laughter echoes throughout the room as she rolls her hips ruthlessly, yet still it brazenly teases a promise of the pleasure to come.
Her body moves rhythmically against yours, riding up and down the length of your shaft at an incredible tempo as your heart rate soars ever upward. Your vision is pulled in a million different directions as every aspect of her figure demands your undivided attention—the ghosts of her fingertips as she delicately traces the lines of your abs, the faint hint of her nipples poking against the constrictive fabric of her bra, the unrestrained glee in her grin as she triumphs over the echoes of fatigue and maintains her ceaseless assault. Ultimately, your wandering eyes come to a stop at the sight of her evocative visage, long locks framing her face like a curtain, shielding the rest of the world from the harrowing beauty of this huntress whose sight searches solely for you. You can sense the wicked satisfaction in her gaze, a feral delight in seeing you under her control. Her voice is a low purr that vibrates through your core as she leans in even closer. "Scared now?”
"Never," you choke out in response, swallowing hard as her breath cascades over the sensitive skin of your neck.
She chuckles lightly, "We'll see about that."
You respond not with words, but with a tighter grip on her hips as you sense an opening and thrust up into her, disrupting her tempo with ease and issuing a silent challenge. She gasps in response, and there are hints of flushes—flashes of hunger—across those features hidden in shadow. Her satisfied smirk fades from her face, displaying instead a delirious delight that makes your pounding heart skip a beat. “Such audacity,” she murmurs, subtle signs of mirth showing in her shaking voice.
She’s quick to adapt to the new tempo, moving in perfect synchronization with your thrusts instead of attempting to seize back sole control. Somewhere along the thread that’s inexplicably tied you two together, you find harmony, allowing you to match each other’s strikes with dangerous precision. Her hands climb your body, tangling themselves in your hair and tugging harshly enough to send shivers down your spine. You cling onto her as if she’s the only thing keeping your consciousness intact, fingers digging into her hips deep enough to bruise as each stroke causes an explosion of sensation across your entire being. It’s an intricate dance of power and pleasure: intoxicating, addicting, and—just like she’s always been—impossible to resist.
Amid the rasps of fuck and you and I and oh my god and yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssss, you see a flash of inspiration in her eyes, warning you even before she acts that she’s up to no good. A groan of frustration is ripped from your chest as she slows the pace, leaving you burning with a desire for more pace, more friction, more her, but if the look of bliss on her face at the long, slow strokes is any indication, you’re likely to be left wanting. It’s even worse when she stops entirely, hand wrapping around your throat, desperate for air even as she refuses to allow you any. It gives you a second to stare, to really take in the sight of her as she studies you right back. Even like this, the “flaws” in her appearance—hair disheveled, bra crooked, panties tugged aside, makeup marred by exertion—only serve to further showcase her perfection, leaving you hungry for more. You relax your clenched fingers and grant her hips the slightest of respites as you reach behind her back and unclasp her bra, finally freeing her breasts and their stiff peaks that call your name. Her panties present a bit of a conundrum, but you’re so intoxicated by the image of her you refuse to be reasonable. You muster up your initiative as your hands slide down her sides and rip them to shreds, finally revealing her in her glorious entirety.
“Those were expensive, you know,” she spits, but the words don’t hold as much venom as they normally do.
You shrug, wrapping your hand around hers on your throat as you reply, “So was my scarf.”
And then you both get back to trying to fuck the other into an early grave.
There’s a tempest of wills clashing—her burning desire against your ceaseless refusal to relent—that elevates you both past any limits you might have believed you’d had. The size of your hand dwarfs hers, but there’s an undercurrent of understanding, even as she so clearly communicates the threat she poses. Her eyes, shrouded in shadow, catalog every twitch of your body beneath her. She releases her grip on you before pushing herself up against your chest, bracing her palms as she arches her back in the most alluringly seductive way. The freedom granted to your airflow is for naught as the sight of her leaves you without breath, thought, or any way of slowing the climax you’re suddenly hurtling towards.
“You’re so fucking hard for me,” she whispers, cruelty and craving alike coloring her countenance as she captures your eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? If you ask nicely, I might even give it to you.”
“In your fucking dreams,” you fire back, a feral smirk spreading across your face as the opening notes of her melodic laughter play for you.
But her song stalls as her breath hitches, hiccups of pain and pleasure overpowering her as you feel the quakes overtake her. You wrap your arms around her back, pulling her close as her orgasm overwhelms her, coating your shaft and gushing down your thighs as she reaches the pinnacle of euphoria. Her teeth sink into your shoulder, seeking stability instead of sanguine satisfaction as her moans send vibrations across your skin, sweeping you up in the ecstasy she’s experiencing. You groan in agonizing pleasure as you meet her atop cloud nine, wincing at the magmatic flow of your white-hot cum shoots into her. In each other's arms you find incomparable pleasure, traveling together all the way from the ninth circle of hell to the seventh heaven.
You stay inside her longer than you need to, long enough for both of you to catch your breath. With a regretful groan, you pull out of her, opening up the floodgates of both of your cum to flow freely down her beautifully bruised thighs. You look to her, desperate to call for a draw, but instead you’re met with the face wearing the weight of weariness and shadowy eyes that seem to see right through you. Before she can even offer a single word, she collapses, tumbling to your side and laying her face against a pillow before going still.
-x-
After a brief confirmation of a pulse, you pull the sheets and covers over her, leaving her in silence before heading into the bathroom and cleaning yourself up. Upon your return, you’re anything but surprised to see that she’s gone, drifted off to dreamland, taken by tranquility. The sight steals your breath away, stunning you as your mind grapples with the notion that this peaceful sleeping angel inhabits the same body as the devil who rode you ‘til rapture mere minutes ago. You muster up a couple crumbs of courtesy as you quietly move through your hotel room, pulling on an old pair of jeans and a shirt you’d rather hide beneath the hoodie you instead hang on the door before sneaking out into the silence of the hallway.
You take a left, then a right, pause, then walk past the vase you’d raided earlier and choose to descend as the elevator doors close behind you. On the back wall sits a mirror and trapped within stands your reflection, staring through you as you study yourself. Your practiced posture protects the truth of the present—prevents the outside world from seeing the fatigue pervasive throughout your system. You’re shaking out of your reverie by the sound of a ding and the sliding of doors, revealing your desired floor behind you. You back out, refusing to break eye contact until the doors do the deed for you. You sigh, turn, shake your head, then trek forwards towards your destination. Ahead—beneath a wooden slab stained with stories—sits a suite of stools, empty and for the taking. You mount one and offer a small nod to the bartender, who seems surprised by your presence, though not your appearance.
“Long night?” he asks, grabbing a glass and setting it atop a coaster as he finds the answer in your eyes long before you vocalize it.
“I mean, yeah,” you chuckle, running your finger around the rim of the glass. “In all the best ways. Surprise me.”
His eyebrow rises as he catches the glass you slide back to him, pondering for a moment before turning and scouring the shelves. “Oh yeah? Then how come you’re here, especially now? Don’t get many visitors this late after hours.”
“There’s, uh …” you pause, considering how much honesty you want to offer before resigning yourself to sharing it in full. “There’s a girl in my hotel room. You can guess what we did there, but she’s asleep now and I don’t want to be there when she wakes up.”
“That’s a new one,” he responds, hints of a surprised smile spreading across his face as he slides back the glass, now containing a connoisseur’s drink of choice. “Though I’ll admit that still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”
“Thanks,” you say, picking up the cup and swirling the liquid around, allowing the aroma to saturate your senses as the dark liquid sloshes around and splashes the frozen orb within. “Honestly, I’m hoping that with a little time, I might just find it at the bottom of this glass.”
“Then happy hunting, friend. Let me know if I can get you anything else,” he offers before turning to resume his cleaning.
“Will do,” you reply, raising your drink in thanks as the snug solace of silence settles over the space. A sip, a thought. Another, for naught. Try as you might, you can’t seem to wrap your head around why you feel the way you do. Theoretically, this “should” be the perfect justification for you to rip her next promotion to absolute shreds. You “should” be foaming at the mouth at this opportunity, the chance for you to give her what she deserves. This is the stuff of dreams, right? It “should” be.
You “should” be a lot of things. Conscience-stricken should not be one of them. Yet here you are. Regretful. Hesitant. Weak. Everything you shouldn’t be. Everything you hated being. Everything you swore you’d never be again.
And somehow, Song fucking Yuqi has the power to bring all of that out of you.
You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. About her. More than you’d like to admit, yet likely not as much as you should. But it’s only here, in this drunken stupor amidst the forgotten hours of the night, that you finally take the time to truly reflect on your relationship thus far. You’re one of many who’s watched her shine brightest under the spotlight’s glow, but one of few who’s seen who she is in the dark. You’re aware of the disdain lurking behind every easy smile she gives, yet the taste of her cherry lipstick is more familiar than your morning coffee. You’ve heard all the honeyed lies she whispers so freely, but no one else knows how sweet she sounds when screaming your name. You might be the only one who knows she’s a nightmare masquerading as a dream, but you’re undeniably unsure whether it’s one you want to wake up from. So many thoughts, but not even a hint of the truth you’re hunting for.
But then, somewhere in the haze, you finally find the missing piece: it’s the hypocrisy of it all that drives you mad. It's the fact that she gets to have her cake and eat it too; the fact that she gets to grow her fame without growing as a person. It's the fact that you had to get your first editor—your friend—fired because he was limiting your creative freedom. It’s the fact that her group can undergo a massive scandal and have it all swept under the rug in less than six months’ time. It's the fact that you've had to abandon the unknown groups with the most compelling stories because they're not the ones who generate views. It's the fact that you've had to budget for the price of your ambition while she can max out her social credit without a second thought.
Worst of all, it’s the fact that you’re stuck wide awake in the lost hours of the day with nothing but her on your mind while she sleeps serenely in a suite paid for by the fruits of your labor. You've long since come to terms with the fact that she's living rent-free in your head; now you're just disputing her claim to the master bedroom and both parking spots. The possibility that you might be living in your worst nightmare—that you might have become an afterthought—fills you with an icy foreboding that even a thousand scalding showers couldn’t thaw. And there’s still nothing you can do about it.
If you’re being honest, there might never be.
You slam back the rest of your drink, desperate to display a degree of decisiveness wherever possible. You’re gentler when you set it back on the coaster, but there’s still enough force to cause the bartender to turn.
“So, did you find what you were looking for?” he asks, looking down at the glass before meeting your eyes once again.
“Can’t say I did,” you chuckle darkly, pausing for a moment before sliding it back to him. “But it couldn’t hurt to check again.”
Continued in Act Three …
(I’d like to express my appreciation to @capslocked for both their direct and indirect contributions to this fic. They’ve been the biggest catalyst for my growth as a writer the past couple months and I can’t thank them enough for their time and patience. Once you’re done with this fic, please do yourself a favor and go read “Starlet” if you’re in the mood for more Miyeon & Yuqi content. Once you’re done with that, please do me a favor and bully them into writing Part 2, tyvm!)
#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#yuqi smut#yuqi fanfic#idol x reader#idol x male reader#gidle yuqi#gidle#yuqi#song yuqi#slow burn#gidle miyeon#miyeon
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sitting on oscar’s face and everytime his nose bumps your clit you let out even louder moans, and he’s just laying there with a smirk on his face (i just love his nose)
!! oscar weekend requests are now closed !!
warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! face sitting
note: anon you are so right
You look down at him between your legs and sigh. He can tell you’re hesitant. He gives you a soft smile and a small nod.
“It’s okay, this is gonna be fun.”
You laughed when he first suggested this, you sitting on his face. You thought he was joking. Sure, he told you that he loved burying his face between your legs and lapping at your center, but you couldn’t picture yourself actually sitting on his face.
“C’mon darling, it’ll be so good.” He pleads.
“You can’t be serious Os, what if I hurt you?”
“Then I’ll go doing the thing I love most.”
You shake your head, turning away from him. His hand reaches out for your arm, pulling you back into him.
“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But if you ever do want to, know I will gladly let you sit on my face.” He finishes his sentence with a gentle kiss to your lips.
It takes a little while for the topic to come up again. It’s after a race weekend, he’s come home and slumped against you on the couch. His lips leave kisses on any exposed skin he can find, eventually looking for more and sliding down to kneel on the ground and spread your legs open for him.
“Os.” You stop him.
He looks up at you. “You don’t want to?” He asks, ready to sit back on the couch and pull you into his arms again.
“No, I just… I was thinking, maybe we could try it…” You say, your voice trailing off at the end.
“Try what?”
“You know, it…”
He gives you a blank look shaking his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about darling…”
“I want to sit on your face!” You let the words come out.
A wide grin spreads over his face. “Yeah?” He smirks.
“Don’t get cocky.” You give him a soft kick. “You know what? No, I’ve changed my mind.” You lean back and cross your legs.
“No, no, no! Please darling, please.” He lays his head on your knee, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “Please sit on my face.”
You smile, giving into him. “Alright.” You stand up, and hold a hand out for him to take. “But we’re doing this in the bedroom.”
He trails behind you as you walk to your back to your bedroom. From there on it’s the usual standard foreplay between the two of you, kisses and lovebites and wandering hands, up until he’s laying back with you hovering over his face.
“If you’re genuinely scared about suffocating me or something, don’t be. You know I have the strength to push you off of me.” He turns his head to kiss your leg. “Are you going to make me beg darling?”
“Shut up.”
“I know one way you could shut me up.” He winks at you.
You roll your eyes. “Okay, here we go.” You slowly lower yourself down, careful not to put your full body weight on him.
Oscar nearly rolls his eyes at you himself, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down flush against his face.
You let out a surprised squeal when you feel his tongue already delving into you. You tangle a hand in his hair and rest the other on the wall in front of you in an attempt to keep your balance.
You moan above him, trying to keep your hips still.
“Ride my face.” He tells you, his words muffled.
You give a few experimental rolls of your hips, gasping when you feel his nose brush against your clit. You look down to see him looking up at you, his eyes crinkled in the way they do when he’s smirking at you.
You continue to ride his face, tugging at the deep brown hair tangled around your fingers, until you feel yourself fall apart.
He gently helps you move off of his face, so that you’re sitting on his abdomen. He gives you a wicked smile, the bottom of his face covered in your slick, and his eyes a darker shade of brown than normal.
“Don’t worry, I won’t say I told you so.”
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TWST Boys on a Carnival Date
Dorm leaders x Reader
Summary: What is it like when the boys take you out on a date to the local carnival?
A/N: sorry lovelies for the small break! finals were a pain, but we’re here again now, so I hope you enjoy! ♡
p.s. requests are still currently closed for the time being, so if you send any it’ll be a while before we get to them, hope you understand! ♡
• if we’re being honest, you were probably the one who organized the date
• because of his childhood, chances are he’s never been to a carnival
• he would normally see these events as being childish, but the happy look on your face makes it worth it
• he does enjoy spending time with you though, even if he prefers the calmer dates such as tea parties or study sessions
• will be more lenient on his own rules, but will follow any rules to the letter that the carnival has
• you’ll have to remind him to enjoy himself
• wouldn’t care too much for any of the rides, especially the more exhilarating ones, but once again, he’ll do it for you
• if he had to choose a favorite though, it would probably something more calm and traditional, such as the ferris wheel or carousel
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Your hand grasped firmly around Riddle’s as you led him through the carnival grounds. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he followed obediently. Finally, the two of you came across a carousel.
Riddle looked at you quizzically, did you think he was a child? But you simply smiled at him and waited in line. Once it was your guys’ turn to mount the wooden creatures. Riddle chose a cream colored horse, given his ties to the equestrian club, while you chose the one most suited to your preferences.
Riddle felt incredibly out of place sitting on the faux creature. Even still, he listened diligently to the rules being told about the ride. He couldn’t fathom why you wished to bring him here.
That is, until it started moving. His brain still screamed that this is childish, and if Ace ever saw him like this, he would never hear the end of it. Though, for some reason he couldn’t explain, his heart disagreed. Joy filled his veins as the air slightly tussled his crimson hair, and as the scenery around him began to move. He can’t recall if he’s ever felt this free before.
Once you guys dismount the ride, you can’t help but ask his opinion. A light shade of red dusts his cheeks as he avoids eye contact with you. His hand feels warm curled around yours, even as refuses to admit he enjoyed it.
“I suppose I can understand the endearment towards such a ride”
• you probably had to drag Leona out there one way or another
• he does enjoy spending time with you, but he much rather stay in one of your dorms just hanging out and sleeping
• but he knows that there should be other dates than just those, so he indulges you
• (it’s totally not because when he first declined you, you suggested going with other people instead)
• he’ll buy you anything you want without much thought. he’s also really good at the carnival games, so he’ll gripe about it the whole time but if you want a prize, he’ll win it for you
• the smug lion will also enjoy the compliments that follow
• once again, he doesn’t care much for the rides or anything, he only does them because you seem to enjoy them
• if he had a favorite, it would probably be the haunted house, not because they scare him, but because he likes teasing you, and he won’t admit it, but he likes the feeling of being relied on
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You instinctively jump back and lean into Leona’s embrace when another eerily well designed ghoul jumps out at you. In your world they wouldn’t have been as terrifying, but in this world they have the power to use magic to aid in their scaring, which ups the fear factor tremendously. As you hide your face in the lion beastman’s torso, you can feel the deep chuckle reverberate through his chest. Looking up, your gaze meets his infamous teasing smirk.
“Scared, herbivore?” He grins with an eyebrow quirked. You huff, crossing your arms defiantly as you turn away from him
“Of course not! I was just startled, that’s all”
The mocking look on his face doesn’t leave as you guys continue walking. He stays a few paces behind you, thinking to himself. You’re an incredibly strong person who has put up with so much — including himself — and he knows that, so seeing you get scared from what he considers child’s play is very amusing to him. And, as much as he would deny it, he loves how he can be someone you’re comfortable relying on.
He’s used to people not thinking he’s good enough, or that he would always be second pick, so having you come to him first makes his heart soar with joy. It also inflates his already massive ego.
Your banter continues, and to further your point on not being scared, you quicken your pace to go further in front of him. However, this quickly back fires as another jumpscare happens right as you turn the corner. You quickly return to Leona’s embrace, forfeiting your pride for the moment. Leona just secures his arm around you to make you feel safe, but as he speaks you can practically see the smirk on his face.
“You’re just jumping at every excuse to be in my arms, huh?”
• he was actually the one who probably brought it up with you, even though he enjoys taking you out on more lavish dates, he does want to experience more land-dwelling customs and because it can give him ideas for business opportunities
• he’ll try to win you plushies from the rigged games, but he won’t be able to win, which simultaneously frustrates and embarrasses him
• instead he’ll spoil you by buying you other stuff you want
• a bit reluctant to eat any of the food, but will snack a bit on it if you insist
• will never participate in the dunk tank. no matter how much you beg or plead, that is one thing you’ll never catch him partaking in
• most likely to have really bad luck — like he’ll try to be all suave but then something will happen, like the ride getting stuck, and it’ll be ruined
• not a huge fan of the fast paced rides either, he prefers the more “romantic” ones
• but honestly his favorite thing is to just walk around the fair ground with you, looking at all the stalls
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Your arm was hooked across his elbow, with his other free hand resting over yours. Even as people bustled around you guys, filling the air with their laughter, you didn’t mind the noise. You and Azul had been having a nice conversation and were now walking around in comfortable silence.
While you were watching everything around you, Azul’s eyes were focused on you. Even in the summer heat and humidity, you looked ethereal to him. Even though he could be pessimistic at times, especially about himself, you were always there to brighten his day.
He was pulled out of his trance when he felt you tug on his arm, pointing to a photo booth they had. He let you drag him over to it, despite his insecurities he would happily oblige you. Especially because it would provide a physical reminder of the day, which is always nice. He would just make sure to hide it from the Leech twins — he didn’t need their relentless teasing.
“C’mon Azul, let’s take some photos together! It would be so cute”
“Of course, anything for you, darling”
• literally a golden retriever the whole time
• he was so excited when he heard about the carnival, and immediately wanted to take you there to enjoy it
• boy is literally bouncing off the walls, wanting to try anything and everything
• Jamil would shadow you guys from a distance though, to make sure nothing bad happened
• if you guys are holding hands, be assured that he’ll be swinging your guys’ arms happily
• Kalim is literally thriving in this type of environment
• another one who will buy you anything you want without a second thought — he’ll even be more than willing to buy things that aren’t actually even for sale
• he especially loves the exhilarating rides and roller coasters, or even the tilt-a-whirls and water rides.
• his favorite is probably the bumper cars though, he just has so much fun interacting with strangers like that
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Jumping up and down on the balls of his feet, Kalim was talking animatedly to you while you guys waited in line for the bumper cars. If the people knew who he was, they would probably let you skip the line, but that thought didn’t even cross Kalim’s mind and you would feel bad for the other patrons if you did that, so you didn’t voice that thought.
Luckily though, the line wasn’t too bad, and Kalim distracted you from the wait, regardless. This was probably the fourth time you guys were going to the bumper cars, but Kalim just kept having so much fun with it
Kalim then turned his attention to you, a bright smile adorning his face.
“Isn’t this so much fun?”
His happiness was contagious, so you couldn’t help but grin back, “yeah, it is!”
“We have festivals in the Scalding Sands, but nothing like this” he beams, explaining why he finds this so enjoyable, before he pauses and adds on,
“Well, I always have a lot fun when I do anything with you!”
• the chances of you getting Vil to actually go to a carnival are incredibly slim
• they’re just too chaotic and rambunctious for his liking
• it would take a lot of pleading for him to go with you to one — probably would if you mentioned how you liked them back in your world, because then he would feel bad denying you something that was related to the home you were taken away from
• wouldn’t care too much about what was being sold unless it was accessories or something, but even then he would be quick to point out the low quality
• so no, he probably wouldn’t buy you anything unless you really wanted it, his reasoning being that he could find you something much better elsewhere
• he won’t be keen on the rollercoasters or fast moving rides, namely cause of the damage the wind could do
• flat out refuses to do any of the water rides
• Vil prefers the more slow and scenic rides
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Even sitting in one of the small compartments of the ride, Vil still has his legs elegantly crossed and his posture perfect. His eyes are gazing at the scenery that passes by while you guys chat idly. Even though this may not be his preferred type of date, he still enjoys it nonetheless (even if it doesn’t seem like that)
He turns his head towards you when you call out his name. You were pointing a camera at both of you, ready to take a picture. Vil smiles at this, and it’s not his usual smile he’s developed for the sole purpose of photos, it’s a true, genuine smile.
After you take a photo, you pull up your screen so that the both of you can look to see how it turned out. In the photo you can see your bright smile, the beautiful scenery in the back, and then the soft look on Vil’s face as he smiles — a far cry from his usual demeanor.
Enamored with the picture, you look up at him and tell him that he’s beautiful. His real smile broadens further, before it turns into a smirk.
“I look my most beautiful when you’re by my side”
• it would be difficult to get Idia to agree to a date like that, where there’s crowds of people all around.
• once you mention an anime where there’s carnivals in as well, then he’ll be much more open to the idea
• that, and it would make you happy, which is what he wants
• he would be incredibly nervous the whole entire time
•his gaze almost always either looking down at the ground, or looking at you, and he would not leave your side for any reason
• would definitely get a souvenir for Ortho, if he didn’t tag along with you guys
• doesn’t care for any of the rides, those are way too normie for him
•but he loves the carnival games the most — and despite them being rigged, he’s really good at them and wins basically every time
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You stood next to Idia, watching as he effortlessly got all the rings to land perfectly in their designated spots. The vendor seemed completely surprised and impressed by this, but nonetheless handed Idia his prize. Idia then gave the plushie to you, mumbling info about how he didn’t need it.
You guys then continued to stroll down the path between all the games and vendors, and you complimented his skills at ring toss. The tips of his hair immediately flared pink as he quickly avoided eye contact with you and fiddled with his fingers instead.
“Er— um— thanks” he stammered, “there was a carnival event in one of the games I play, and that was the game the character I wanted was playing. So I made my own version to play before I tried wishing for her, you know, to like give me luck or whatever so I could get her”
“And did you??”
His whole demeanor changed as he flashed you a cocky grin, “Gwee hee hee, of course I did. I would be just your common pleb if I couldn’t do something as simple as that. EZ”
You giggled and continued walking with him, when he mumbled to himself
“You know, this event might just be my favorite now”
• chances are Malleus didn’t even really know what a carnival actually was
• they’re probably not common in Briar Valley, and even if they were, he was probably never allowed to go to one. And even if he was, it wouldn’t be the same because it was probably rented out and no-one else was there
• suffice to say, he hadn’t ever gotten to experience what a real carnival was like
•kept to your side like a lost puppy, completely enamored with everything
• would be willing to try everything
• Lilia, Sebek and Silver would probably be trailing you guys — Lilia because he wants pictures, Sebek because he refuses to let you be alone with Malleus, and Silver because he wants to make sure the other two don’t do anything stupid.
• both of you know they’re there — they aren’t sneaky — but you guys elect to ignore them
• Malleus is probably not the best at the games because he puts too much strength and is liable to breaking them
• He loves all of it, but his favorite moment would probably have been the Ferris wheel
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
The two of you were on the Ferris wheel, sitting side by side, and his hand rested on your forearm. Dusk had already settled in, so the view was gorgeous, especially as you reached the climax of the ride. Breaking the comfortable silence, Malleus turned to you.
“Thank you, Child of Man” he started “once again, you have enlightened me on experiences I never even dreamed of”
“With someone as old as you” you jest, nudging your elbow into his side, “I wasn’t sure if there was anything you didn’t know or had not experienced”
“With you, I am constantly learning new things” Malleus smiles, his gaze soft as he leans towards you
That is, until a screech could be heard from the sightseeing cabin behind you. It was soon cut short when someone slapped their hand over the other’s mouth, telling them shush, followed by the click of a camera shutter.
You simply giggled while Malleus sighed, before the smile returned to his face
“Ignore them. Focus on me, as you are the one who is the sole occupant of my thoughts”
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus x reader#twst riddle#twst leona#twst azul#twst kalim#twst vil#twst idia#twst malleus
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The Fix - Part 8
Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.
Warnings: Slight language, discussion about drugs/drug dealing, slight angst, fluff-ish
Word Count: ~2.7k
Beau’s foot pressed down on the accelerator of his truck until it had touched the floorboard. He tried to get a handle on his emotions, but he wasn’t used to feeling this way and he hated it. He had always been able to use his adrenaline as fuel in his line of work, but this felt different. All he could think about was Matt Donahue’s words—“We’re going to offer him a plea.”
In all honesty, he should’ve seen it from a mile away. As a Sheriff and someone who worked with prosecutors on a daily basis, a plea deal made sense. The FBI weren’t interested in some small town drug dealer. They wanted the big guys. But he was too close to this case, and it felt dangerous.
The tires of his truck squealed as he pulled into the parking lot in front of the office. His feet carried him to the front of the building as he tried to slow his breathing.
The glass door swung open with more force than he had anticipated as he barged into the lobby. Justin Markham, the district attorney, stood there as if he were awaiting Beau’s arrival. Next to him was Matt Donahue, the agent Beau was getting increasingly annoyed with seeing in his town.
“Beau,” Justin started carefully as he read the frustration and anger across his face. “I need you to just hear us out.”
“Hear you out?” Beau bit back as he planted his feet just in front of them. “You call me, tellin’ me you’re offerin’ Jackson Lyle a plea deal. Jackson Lyle, the man who has been dealin’ heroin, cocaine and meth in this town for the last four years. The man who kidnapped his child, shot one of my deputies and then held me and the child’s mother at gunpoint?!” He couldn’t control the volume or tone of his voice any longer.
“I know you’re disappointed,” Justin spoke while Matt remained silent. “There’s a reason–”
“There’s absolutely no reason for us to explain this to you,” Matt sneered as he cut Justin off. “This one’s above your pay grade, Sheriff.”
“It’d be in your best interest not to speak, agent,” Beau snapped back. He turned back to Justin. “How do you expect me to keep the people of this town safe when you’re just gonna let this piece of shit back out on the street? What’s the deal, anyway? Is he even gonna see the inside of a cell?”
The DA took a breath and glanced at the agent. Matt seemed to give up and waved, as if saying he didn’t care and to just fill Beau in at this point.
“Let’s go to your office, alright?” Justin placed a hand on Beau’s shoulder as the three men walked in and closed the door behind them. “The judge is ready to sign a restraining order for the victims today. There’s no question on that, it’ll be very clearly stated to Jackson that he’s not allowed anywhere near them or their property. He’s already agreed to it verbally.”
“Oh, yeah, that sounds great. Let’s trust the abusive drug dealer who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself,” he said sarcastically. “Fan-fuckin’-tastic work, guys.”
“Sheriff,” Matt said firmly. “We have an opportunity to get to the root of the opioid crisis in Big Sky. We can take out the source, and that starts with information we get from Jackson Lyle.”
“I’m not an idiot, I hear you,” Beau snapped back. “I’m tryin’ to figure out how I’m gonna tell the mother that just got her daughter back and has been afraid of this man for all these years that he’s gonna walk.”
“It’ll take some time,” Justin tried to assure him. “The restraining order will be firmly in place, and the FBI still has a lot of information they need to get out of him. He will remain in custody until everything checks out. We’re talking a month, minimum. It could be six months, for all we know.”
Beau sighed and rubbed a hand down his mouth as he processed. “Alright,” he finally conceded, more so because he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to change the outcome. He shuffled in his pocket as he felt the device vibrate against his thigh.
“The FBI has promised they will keep you in the loop along the way,” Justin looked at Matt pointedly—as if he was reminding him of the expectations.
“I sure as hell hope so,” Beau’s voice trailed a bit as he saw Cassie’s ID on his phone—he had received a text message. He scrolled to open it.
Cassie Dewell
Hey, can you send me their home address?
Beau quickly wrote back.
I don’t have it on hand. It’s off of Arbor Road just off of Main. Why?
“I, uh, I gotta get going. I’ll say thank you for keeping me up to speed, but I’m still not happy,” Beau grumbled as he nodded at both the agent and DA.
“I’ll call you later,” Justin shook his hand before Beau headed back for the front door. He stepped into his truck and pulled his cowboy hat from his head, placing it in the passenger seat before he put the key in the ignition. His phone vibrated once more.
Cassie Dewell
They left a note that they headed there to grab a few things and to meet them there.
Beau felt like he could scream. He knew there wasn’t any immediate danger after talking to Justin and Matt, but he also knew he had asked one thing of you—to stay put and just wait for Cassie to get there.
“Dammit,” he couldn’t help but curse as he squeezed the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The tires crunched upon the gravel. He barely waited for his truck to stop before he shifted into park and threw open the door.
“Hey,” you said, a bit confused as you approached from the front door. You had heard the familiar sound of his truck pull up and decided to greet him from there. “You okay? I thought Cassie was coming. What did they say?”
Beau slammed his door shut. “Was there any confusion about what I asked you to do before I left? Was I clear, or do you just not care that I’m trying my absolute damnedest to keep you safe?” His words nipped, much like the cool Montana air.
“I just wanted to come back to get some fresh clothes and bring Bailey back to the comfort of our home for a few minutes,” you tried to explain with your eyes widened. He was mad; pissed, even. But you didn’t feel like it was fair. “Jackson’s locked up, right? Even with a potential deal, there’s no way they’d let him out right now.”
Beau knew you were right, but the fear just wouldn’t dissipate. “But if there are people lookin’ for him, where do you think they’re gonna go when they find out he’s locked up, huh? Where would they go when they realize that he’s probably gonna strike a deal for ratting them out? Who would they go after to get to him?” His eyes hadn’t faltered from yours as he took focused steps towards the stairs leading up to your porch. He stopped just before the first one.
You, too, knew there was truth behind Beau’s words. “So you’re going to stand out here and yell at me?!” You couldn’t help the rise to your voice. After what you went through with Jackson, you had sworn you’d never let a man control you like that again. Even though Beau was being rational, you couldn’t allow yourself to accept it. “You’re going to argue with me because I just wanted some normalcy again?”
“I’m arguin’ with you because I’m trying to fix this,” he sounded exasperated, though unphased by your tone. “I’m tryin’ to keep you safe.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Sheriff,” your tone was snarky. “I don’t need you to fix a damn thing. There isn’t anything broken that needs fixing.” You muttered, frustration burned your eyes in the form of angry tears. It was a lie. You felt completely broken most of the time, but your frustration had gotten the best of you and you didn’t feel like admitting it. Beau knew anyway.
“You know what,” Beau grumbled as he shook his head. He sucked on his teeth for a second before he returned his gaze to you. “You’re right, darlin’. You don’t need fixing. But this situation you're in? It makes me crazy. You don’t deserve it—an ounce of it,” his words were purposeful as he stood planted just in front of the first step of your porch. “And over the last few days, I’ve gotten to a point where I care…I care a lot. So I’d be damned if I put you in a situation where you’re not safe. Because when you’re not safe, I can’t even think straight.”
The air between you was tense, and you weren’t sure what to say for a moment. Beau’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. The air he blew out created small clouds, a clear indication of how hard he was breathing and how cold the air was.
“I’m sorry that you were scared,” you tried to dissect his words. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen. I’m not used to this…” you paused as you tried to think about how you wanted to explain the situation. “I’m not used to having someone look out for me. I look out for myself.”
“You’re gonna have to let that go, darlin’,” Beau was still frustrated, but his tone had softened. His feet moved slowly as he climbed the first stair. “I am standin’ here, telling you I want this.” His voice was low as he took another step. “I want the hard times, the good times; I’ll take on all the crazy…” with one more step, he was level with you now. He stood there unwavering, and you found it hard to hold his eye contact under the weight of his words. “And if that’s what you want, too? Even better. But I need you to meet me halfway, sweetheart.” His voice was just above a whisper now.
Frustrated tears had pooled in your eyes again, but this time it was something deeper. Your life was complicated—it had been complicated—for a very long time. You hadn’t thought of sharing your life with anyone but Bailey for as long as you could remember. But here Beau stood, telling you he wanted all of it.
“How am I supposed to meet you halfway when you won’t open up to me? I barely know anything about you, Beau. You can’t take your walls down, so how am I supposed to meet you in the middle?” You folded your arms across your chest and stood your ground.
Beau broke eye contact and a hot breath escaped his lips. “You’re right, darlin’,” he said softly. His tongue darted out over his lips. “You wanna know my story? I left Houston because I screwed up.” He lifted his head to find your eyes again. “There was a case I was investigatin’ and it went south. I was followin’ the wrong trail, and a deputy got killed because of it. I panicked, and I wasn’t gonna take this job because of it. But I had to be close to my daughter and I didn’t know anything other than law enforcement. Nine times outta ten, I feel like an imposter in this job. But I promised myself I’d never make another mistake again. I’ve spent the last three years trying to fix it—all of it. Trying to fix myself, and tryin’ my damnedest not to screw anything up.”
He paused, and your heart sank in your chest a little. You felt overwhelming sympathy for him and what he had been through. “You can’t blame yourself, Beau.”
He chuckled almost sarcastically. “Oh, I can and I do, sweetheart,” he sighed. “But that’s besides the point. We all have stuff. And you’re right, I need to open up more if I’m askin’ you to meet me in the middle. I’m willin’ to do that…I’m willing to try.”
“I want to try, too, Beau,” you breathed out, Beau’s smile hidden for only a moment as your breath fogged in front of you. “I can’t promise we won’t have more moments of me not listening or pushing back on you…”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’,” he drawled, just before he captured your lips with his.
Cassie had arrived shortly after and agreed to hang out with you and Bailey. Beau had said he had one more stop to make, and while you didn’t know where he was headed, you didn’t push back or ask any questions.
Beau had called in a favor, one he wasn’t sure would be granted. But for the first time since this whole ordeal started, the FBI had come through.
He pulled open the heavy metal door and prepared himself to go through the metal detector.
“I’m meeting Matt Donahue with the FBI,” Beau said to guard just past the security entrance after he showed his Sheriff’s badge. The man led Beau through a code-locked door that closed shut with a loud bang.
Matt stood there in his suit with his hands in his pockets. “I’m breaking a lot of rules letting you do this,” Matt grumbled as he glanced at the watch on his wrist.
“Yeah, well,” Beau cleared his throat. “I helped catch him, didn’t I? He’s been creating mayhem in my town, I think you can give me five minutes.” Matt rolled his eyes but started down the long hallway. Beau followed.
There was another guarded door with a code lock. Matt nodded at the guard there, who unlocked the door and opened it for them to walk through.
Beau glanced around at the barred cells. Chatter and yells from the prisoners echoed off of the walls. Matt stopped in front of a cell.
“Ah, if it isn’t the pretty boy sheriff,” Jackson Lyle sneered from where he sat on his cot. He had bandages around his shoulder and upper torso. Seeing that brought Beau a little bit of joy.
“At least one of us looks good,” Beau snided back. He glanced at Matt with a pointed look.
“Five minutes,” Matt repeated before he retreated back down the hallway, as promised. Beau turned his attention back to the cell.
“Ooh, what’s the pretty sheriff got to tell me, hmm? You hear I’m getting a deal? I’ll be out of here in no time,” he seemed so proud of himself.
“Yeah, about that,” Beau glanced down but then locked eyes with the man on the other side of the bars. “As we both know, you’ll have two restraining orders against you the second you step foot outside this prison. But I also want you to know, I’ll be watchin’. Every step you take, you’ll have eyes on you as long as you stay in Big Sky.”
“You say that now, but just you wait and see. My ex-wife can be a real bitch. You’ll get tired of her shit the same way I did,” he sneered. “She’s a broken woman. She won’t let anybody try to fix her.”
“Here’s the difference,” Beau was firm in his words and made sure he held his composure. “I’m gonna go in there and pick up the pieces that you broke. And she and I, together–we’ll fix it ourselves. While you’re only interested in getting your fix, I’m prepared to put in the work and be what she and Bailey need. You’ll never see them again, Jackson. And if you do, you’ll end up with a bullet between your eyes. I’ll put it there myself.”
A/N: And there we have it, folks! Part 8! Did we love it? Hate it? Surprised by our least favorite FBI agent's slight change of heart (or that he has a heart at all?).
It pains me to say, but this will be the last full chapter for The Fix! I'll post the Epilogue on Wednesday that will bring things full circle. I've struggled with if I wanted to carry this further (and while I think there are opportunities for additional development, I also sort of feel like I'd be drawing it all out if I kept going). All of that to say: I do think there may be a one shot or two (or more, I mean--who knows?) in the future. I really loved branching out and pushing myself to write Beau Arlen, and I truly enjoyed writing the reader & Bailey in this series, as well.
While it's not quite the end just yet, I can't forget to say THANK YOU! I have gotten so much love on this series, and I truly appreciate it.
See you on Wednesday :)
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#big sky fan fiction#big sky fanfiction#big sky fanfic#big sky fan fic#big sky ff#beau arlen fanfiction#beau arlen fan fiction#beau arlen fanfic#beau arlen fan fic#beau arlen ff#beau arlen x female reader#beau arlen x reader#beau arlen x you#beau arlen x ofc
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tokrev boys leaving cute little voicemails 🥺🥺🥺
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋
+ mikey, baji, kazutora, ran, rindou, sanzu
tw: fem!reader, slight cursing, slightly suggestive? drinking mentioned(for baji) straight up fluff and super sweet boys <3
# 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘
“hey angel, you’re probably asleep right now or binging one of your shows, heh. i know i always complain when you make me watch them with you but i’d be lying if i didn’t enjoy how happy it makes you. speaking of happiness, you make me happy, i’d love nothing more right now than to crawl in the bed behind you, wrap my arms around your waist and hold you so close to me while i kiss those pretty warm cheeks until you wake up and kick me out of the bed. i’m not sure when i’ll be home but i had some spare time and you deserve more than this voicemail but it’ll do for now, my spoiled girl. but anyways, i love you—don’t ever forget that.”
# 𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈
“hey pretty, i’m really drunk right now and the walls feel like they’re melting but holy fucking shit i love you. me and chifuyu went out drinking but all i could think about was you and how much i miss my pretty girl. and your lips, oh god—they’re so pretty when they’re wrapped around my—wait, i’m supposed to be sweet right now, haha. i’m on a smoke break and i know how much you keep telling me to stop, i promise i’m trying cause i wanna be with you until we’re old and have a bunch of babies that look exactly like you but act just like me. shit—i’m gettin’ teary eyed thinkin’ about it—anyways princess, my love, the reason i wake up everyday—i love you, gonna come straight home and kiss you so much; have i told you i really miss your lips?”
# 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀
“do you believe in love at first sight? or is that kinda cliche to ask you—well actually i’m telling you because you’re asleep right now or just ignoring my phone call. i remember when we had our first date and you couldn’t stop staring at my eyes instead of the big fucking tattoo on my neck, or when people would glare at me you just held my hand a little bit tighter. whatever the fuck im trying to say is im in love with you, been like this ever since i met you and shit—i wouldn’t have it any other way. i regret so much in my life and what i have to suffer through is nobody’s problem but my own yet with you—i feel so safe, so fucking loved and is it too cliche now to ask you to be mine over the phone?”
# 𝐑𝐀𝐍
“now don’t get your hopes up, this isn’t my normal voicemails where you know—heh. i’ll leave that for when i get home pretty, you’ll really be begging to know all about it. we’ve been together a long time—what? almost five years? i remember you were the first one to see me with my hair cut short and embarrassingly enough the one to also hold me as i cried my eyes out about it. people say that you get tired of one another but that’s honestly the exact opposite with you. i always want to learn more about you even though i know everything including how much you hate listening to my alarm in the morning or the extra eight kisses you need before i can even leave. i am so madly in love with you that the mere thought of losing you makes my chest hurt, you got me angel, the ran haitani is at your beckon call until you get tired of me—which i hope is never because i know those other voicemails i do send you are pretty fucking nice.”
# 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔
“ignore that i’ve called you like five times already, i forgot you go to sleep early when i’m not there, i sure keep you up, don’t i baby? haha i’m sure that’s gonna make you all flustered and cute when you listen to this. but i called to tell you how much you mean to me, how much i love you—what you do to make me feel so alive when all i’m ever doing is dealing with death. i’ve never loved anyone before and shit—i’m scared you’ll be gone one day. can you imagine? me? being able to wake up all by myself without you there? as soon as i get to work i’m so fucking exicted to get off because i’ll be coming home and know you’ll be there—my pretty girl and all mine. i lied earlier actually, i’ve called you way more than five, and i’ll keep calling you leaving voicemails telling you in each one why i love you. got me being all cheesy and shit but you deserve it baby, deserve all of me.”
# 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔
“this bed is so cold without you—sorry for the morning voice, i just woke up and forgot you had work early so i whined into the void for thirty minutes till i realized my princess wasn’t here. when are you gonna be back? mm, you know i get so needy and restless without you here. i’ve got so used to having you in my arms when i get up that i finally came to the realization i can’t live without you. and i just so happen to be hopelessly in love with you and i demand for you to get home as soon as possible. people wouldn’t know what to do finding out i’m so weak for you. i'm probably gonna go back to sleep soon—maybe dream about what other things we do when i wake you up for your attention. mh, i love you pretty girl—you’ll never know how much you mean to me.”
#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyorev x reader#tokrev x reader#mikey x reader#kazutora x reader#baji x reader#ran x reader#rindou x reader#sanzu x reader#mikey fluff#kazutora fluff#baji fluff#ran fluff#rindou fluff#sanzu fluff
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Bam Margera X f!reader X Ryan Dunn pt.1
Warnings!! - Smut, Oral f!giving, cussing, 18++++
Dating Bam Margera threw you into a lot of spontaneous adventures. The parties, impulsive trips across the world, dangerous stunts. It became normal to expect the unexpected. The only predictable thing about Bam was his selfishness especially when it came to you. You are his and his only. You couldn’t even have a friendly conversation with another man without Bam going into a bitch fit. However, there is one exception. Ryan Dunn. They’re a two-in-one deal. You can’t get close to one without the other. And Bam trusts Ryan so no reason for jealousy. Just a trio of pals.
One night, Ryan invites the two of you to his apartment to drink and hang out. Anticlimactic but fun nonetheless. You and Bam head over there with a bottle of vodka and let yourselves in. “Oh hey, you two! Thanks for knocking, so considerate!” Ryan greeted. Bam chuckles and says “Don’t act like you don’t walk into my house like that, asswipe.” “Whatever,” Ryan grabs the vodka from Bam “this’ll make up for it.” I roll my eyes, kick off my shoes, and make my way to the couch. Bam follows suit and Ryan goes to the kitchen to get cups. Bam stretches and melts into his seat. “Finally a night to relax with my two favorite people.” He smiles and puts his arm over my shoulder. I playfully roll my eyes “Don’t be sappy just to get into my pants later.” He sarcastically puts his hands up “Sorry, sorry.” He smirks. “I have better tactics anyway.” He cups my face with his right hand and leans in for a kiss. Of course, I kiss back and it doesn’t take long until his tongue is in my mouth. After a few more seconds Ryan is back. “Excuse me but I’d appreciate it if you two didn’t fuck on my couch!” He says playfully. “We’re not fucking, Dunn,” Bam grumbles with a slight pout having cut the make-out short. “Yet. Thank god I stopped it just in time.” Ryan says placing cups on the coffee table. I laugh and pick up my glass to fill with liquor. Ryan stops me from picking up the bottle and pours it for me. “Oh, such a gentleman,” I say sarcastically while taking a sip. “Anything for you, darling.” He playfully winks filling up the other two glasses. “You fuckers know I’m right here right?” Bam rolls his eyes as Ryan and I laugh. Bam grabs the remote and tosses it to Ryan. “Put some shit on, Dunn let’s get fucked up.” As he chugs his first round.
A couple hours later we’re all buzzed. It didn’t take long for the TV to become background noise. After multiple conversations filled with slurs and giggles the topic of Ryan’s love life came up.
“You really haven’t been getting any lately?” Bam laughs. “Dude it��s not a big deal!” Ryan defends himself. “I’ve just been busy!” Bam continues to laugh “Yeah you’re so busy binge drinking on your couch!” Ryan’s brows furrow “fuck you.” I hit Bam on the shoulder and give Ryan a sympathetic look. “Ry, there’s no shame in not having sex! Not everyone can be sexually active twenty-four seven.” I say “Unlike some whores…” I motion to Bam. Ryan lets out a chuckle and Bam rolls his eyes. “If I’m a whore that would make you one too, idiot,” Bam argues. “Oh babe you and I both know that’s not how it works,” I sigh “Your body count is 10x times mine!” “Whatever since you’re fucking me you’re a whore by association.” He snickers. “You’re such an idiot.” I sip my drink. Bam smirks and leans in. “Your idiot.” Kissing me and turning it into a full-on make-out session in less than ten seconds. That’s gotta be a record.
Ryan groans. “Again please do that anywhere else.” Bam pulls away and looks at his friend. “Yknow what just fucking join, Dunn.” Ryan’s eyes go wide and I’m too shocked to say anything. “What?” Ryan asks, thinking it’s a joke. “It’ll help with your blue balls that make you so pissy,” bam smirks “and I know how long you’ve wanted to fuck y/n.” Ryan keeps his eyes on Bam with red coating his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bam chuckles “Yes you do!” He points out “Before we started dating you, I would talk about all the things we’d do to her!” Now I’m the one with cherry-red cheeks. “Come on, Dunn you down or not?” Bam looks at me as if he’s asking with his eyes. “I’m down if Ryan’s down…” I stumbled out. Bam looks back at Ryan “Alright, let’s do it then.” Ryan agrees. Bam smirks in satisfaction and motions Ryan to sit next to me. Now I'm in the middle. Bam goes for my neck kissing and sucking. While I’m left looking into his friend’s eyes. Ryan hesitated a little bit but then kissed me like it was the end of the world. My throat vibrated with moans and Bam’s hands made their way to my chest. Groping me through my top before pulling it over my chest to expose my tits. I gasped into Ryan’s mouth from the sudden movements. Ryan pulls back to look at my breasts, groaning at the sight. He pushes Bam’s hands away and replaces them with his own. Bam immediately starts to kiss me sloppily. As Ryan has begun sucking on my tits making sure both nipples get the same amount of attention. My moans gradually increase the hotter it gets. I push both the boys away from me. They give me a confused and concerned look. Before they could say anything I got down on my knees in front of them. Their eyes widened in realization before slightly scooting closer together so they weren't too far apart. I began to palm them through their jeans, both of them already hard. “I need you both now,” I whine. Immediately the two start fumbling with their belts whipping their dicks out.
I spit onto both of my hands and begin to jerk my boyfriend and his best friend off. Bam’s groaning and Ryan has his eyes closed letting out breathy moans. I wrap my mouth around Bam’s dick and begin to deep throat him. Trying to get his cock covered in as much saliva as possible. As my left hand continues to stroke Ryan’s Bam grabs my hair and pushes me down on his length a bit more. Groaning when he reaches the back of my throat. I push back off his lap and replace my mouth with my hand. I shift my attention to Ryan and I start to suck the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue around it. And jerking off his shaft twisting up and down. Ryan’s heavily breathing with his eyes locked on mine. I continue to switch between the two men with my mouth, whilst jerking the other one off. Bam’s moans get louder letting me know that he's close. I have a hand on each of the men's shafts. I begin to firmly stroke Bam, twisting up and down. My tongue hovers over his tip waiting for his cum. With a final groan, Bam shoots his load onto my face. From the lewd image of my face covered in cum Ryan finishes in my hand. “Shit.” Ryan curses. I move my face towards my cum-covered hand and clean it up with my tongue. Both boys catch their breaths before sharing a chuckle. “I can’t believe we just fucking did that.” Ryan laughs. “I remove my hands from them, cleaning myself up with a nearby throw blanket. “Consider it an early Christmas present.” Bam continues. “You may wanna wash this…” I smirk, tossing the soiled blanket at Ryan. The two laugh as I get up to go to the bathroom. Until Bam interrupts my movements “Hey, where are you going? It’s your turn.”
#viva la bam#viva la bam x reader#ryan dunn#bam margera#bam margera x reader#ryan dunn x reader#jackass x reader#cky x reader#cky#jackass smut#jackass imagine#jackass#ryan dunn smut#bam margera smut#jackass hcs
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He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 12
An: More fluff!
Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.
Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.
Word count: 2300
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
Warnings: angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of guns.
I wonder what Ghost thinks about as he lies beside me trying to will himself to sleep. Maybe about the men he abandoned because of my actions? Or the prisoners that the Ultranationalists released. Maybe he thinks about his friends and family at home and how he misses them. I’ll likely never know.
It's been over an hour since we were outside, yet neither of us has even remotely relaxed. I thought I’d fall asleep after watching the stars, but I can’t. My mind is wide awake and I can’t stop shaking. Ghost’s jacket helped, but we were lying out there for a long time. As I’ve learned, you lose body heat faster when you aren’t moving around in the cold.
Ghost’s henley and jeans are draped across the wood stove to dry. He lays across from me in just his long underwear and a black undershirt. The dark long johns make it look like he’s wearing a pair of leggings. It’s mildly amusing, but I don’t dare let on. He has an intricate sleeve tattooed up his arm and around his shoulder, spanning halfway across his chest. I want a closer look without being obvious.
It’s strange seeing him out of uniform. Normally the bulletproof tactical vest is strapped on over top of a bulky parka meant to withstand the deadly arctic conditions. But it doesn’t stop there. His belt also holds a variety of tools and weapons. A thigh holster and several other necessities are strapped to his legs on top of thick ski pants. Ghost must carry close to fifty pounds of additional gear every day, not including the helmet and night vision lens; it makes his already large figure even more intimidating. So to see him lying in bed wearing none of it is strangely intimate.
“Go to sleep,” orders the deep voice beside me. I look up at Ghost who is already staring at me. I wonder how long he was watching before he decided to say something. Did he notice my wandering eyes?
“You’re not sleeping either,” my voice is strained after the day’s events. I really should be tired, but I just can’t shut off. Maybe it's adrenaline.
“Nothing new,” he sighs, confirming my suspicions. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who rests easily.
I try and close my eyes again, but after just minutes, I know it’s no use.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“You’re not even trying,” he says.
“I was,” I fist the edge of one of the blankets and wrap it in closer, hoping it’ll warm me up. For some reason, I feel colder now than when we were outside.
“My jacket, my blankets, and a fire, yet you’re still shaking,” Ghost tuts.
“I’m not wearing your jacket anymore,” I try to defend myself, but he’s right. Maybe it’s a circulation problem. Or the temperature isn’t the only reason I’m shaking.
We’re both silent for another while longer until I speak again. “Did you know any of the men?” I ask and almost don’t expect him to answer me. I almost don’t want him to answer me. Guilt weighs on the back of my mind.
“I did,” he understands my question immediately as looks at me from under his black balaclava. I try and read his expression, but I can’t see enough of his face. Their blood is on my hands.
“I’m sorry,” my words are barely audible. I feel an invisible pressure weigh me down. No matter what action I took, someone was going to end up dead. Now there are men on both sides who’re caught up in my indecisiveness.
Simon sighs, “This is so much larger than you are, y/n,” his words are ambiguous but strangely therapeutic. He shifts in bed, placing an arm under his head for support while his other arm, the one with the tattoos, rests on the mattress in the space between us.
“Yet, they’re dead,” I sigh. “And I’m not.”
“They knew the risks,” he says. Ghost’s tone isn’t cold or condescending. His thoughts almost sound far away. I wonder how many horrible things he justifies with that simple phrase. “You’ll rot your brain if you keep thinking like that,” but I’m afraid I already have.
“Doesn’t change anything,”
“They died where they belonged, serving a purpose they believed in,” he says.
“What do you believe in, Simon?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says with finality.
“Nothing?”
“This world crushes belief,” he murmurs almost as if he’s talking to himself. His words hang in the thick, viscous air. For a moment, it feels hard to breathe.
“I think there’s still good out there,” I search his dark eyes. There’s a part of him, somewhere deep within the cavities of his heart, that has been irrevocably injured. “There are people with good hearts who try their hardest to leave the world a little better than they entered it.”
“Few and far in between,” he says.
It stays quiet for a long time with just the sounds of the crackling fire in the background. Part of me thinks I could live here for a long time. Away from all my problems where I could watch the stars every night.
My hands and feet are still cold to the touch. I feel his eyes on my back as I get up from the bed to take a seat in front of the stove. I lift the metal lever to open the tiny hatch and bask in the outflowing warmth of the fire. It feels like a tight hug from a friend you haven’t seen in ages. Like a cup of hot coffee settling in your stomach on a frigid morning. I rest my head on my knees and finally start to feel the exhaustion of the day take its toll. It has to be sometime after three, maybe even later. I remember someone once telling me nothing good happens after midnight. Something switches. Things that shouldn’t happen, do. Boundaries become blurred. My eyes start to droop and my awareness of the room fades from consciousness.
“Come here,” Ghost’s soft order reels me in.
“Why?” I turn to see him sitting up so he can get a better view.
“Just come here,” there’s a rasp to Ghost’s voice. “Bring my shirt.”
I glance at the shirt draped across the stove. A ball of nervousness begins to form in my chest. My heart starts to beat faster. I feel the texture of his thick shirt between my hands. It’s a cotton mixture that’s surprisingly soft. With one knee on the mattress near his feet, I pass the shirt to his extended hand. Unlike his other black clothes, the henley is a dark olive. As Ghost raises his arms to slip it on, his undershirt inches above his waist, exposing a light patch of skin and the sharp edge of a defined v-line. I hastily tear my eyes away in fear of getting caught – of what would happen if I was caught. Of what I would want to happen.
When I lie down again, I can feel the heat radiating off Ghost. Our legs are just inches from touching and part of me wants to test how close I can get before he’ll move away.
Instead, Ghost shifts closer as he motions to my hand.
“Let me see,” he says, grabbing my tight fist. “Look at your hands, y/n, they’re red,” his tone is slightly condescending as if to tell me I should’ve known better than to go outside without gloves, but more than anything, it’s concerned.
“They’re fine,” yet I release the tight fists so he can get a better look. His rough thumb brushes thoughtfully over my fingers. There’s no real harm done. I don’t have frostbite and still have ten of them. They’re just cold.
“You always say that,” he mutters while glancing down. I look from our hands to his eyes, yet they don’t meet. Do I always say that?
“And I’m always fine,” I say. I’m still here, aren’t I?
Ghost’s hands are wide and thick, yet he has long fingers that can almost be described as nimble. His skin is dry and calloused and if I had hand lotion or any type of lotion, I’d offer it to him. But they’re not in the state they’re in because of lack of care. His nails are well kept and he evidently values cleanliness, probably because of the chance of infection should he have to treat one of his injuries. It’s simply because of the amount of gruelling physical labour he is asked to do each day. His body takes the brunt of the damage, which is evident in his bruised knuckles and the various scars littering his skin.
“What about you?” I ask, turning our hands so mine are now holding his.
“What about me?”
“Your knuckles look sore,”
“They are sore,” Ghost’s blunt. “And in two days they’ll be fine. And in another two they’ll be sore again,” The way it comes off is completely unbothered, as though that’s just how life is. Like bruised knuckles will be the least of his worries.
“Fair enough,” I sigh, as I roll onto my back, pulling away my hands. My eyes feel heavy. A comfortable silence once again begins to settle over us and is once again disrupted by the same man.
“Come here, y/n,” he murmurs, looking at me through half-lidded eyes as though I didn’t follow his orders from before close enough.
“I am here,” my voice is weary. He just barely shakes his head.
“Not what I mean,” I know. I know, but I’m also not sure what he intends. I want to. Oh God do I want to. Every fibre in my body longs to crawl into his arms and let him hold me. But I don’t know if that’s what he’s implying. I search his eyes for any sign of deceit. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I have no power here. He is in complete control.
It’s now he notices my hesitancy.
“No one can get to you,”
It’s a nice sentiment, but not what I’m worried about. I don’t have to say anything. Ghost sees it on my face.
“You’re safe, y/n,”
“Am I?”
He reaches under his pillow and pulls out a switchblade. “Here,” he presses it into the palm of my hand. “If you need to, stick it to my neck and press the button,” once I get past my initial shock, I realize he’s being genuine.
The thing is, even with a knife, I’d lose to Ghost in seconds. He doesn’t need guns or knives to be considered armed and dangerous. The man himself is a weapon. I’ve watched him break men’s bones with just his hands. I can’t imagine what’d he’d be capable of doing to me. I’d be overpowered immediately. A knife to his neck would only slow him down momentarily. As he holds the other end of the blade in my hand, I know he thinks about this too.
“What else is under there?” I ask. “A gun?”
“Course not,” he says a little too quickly, but I’d be more surprised if there wasn’t one.
“Why are you being nice to me?” my tired eyes narrow with suspicion.
“Don’t start this,” he says, yet I can’t help but wonder. How does he benefit here?
“Okay,” I nod and repeat the unsteady word to myself once more before shifting closer.
Ghost brushes my hair out of the way as he pulls me flush against his hard chest. I feel my heart hammer in my throat as his strong arm wraps around my side. I feel even smaller pressed into his large, hard frame. His thumb soothingly rubs back and forth along the side of my ribs. His legs brush against the back of mine and with every deep breath he takes, I feel his chest press into my skin. I feel safe, but not comfortable.
Without warning, I shift around so I’m now facing Ghost as he holds me.
As I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, his soft, knit balaclava rubs against my cheek and forehead. I fist his henley and pull myself closer. When I breathe in, I can smell the familiar scent of gunpowder that I’ve learned to associate with him, but also a deep earthy scent that makes me want to relax more with each breath. At the same time, I feel his arms wrap around my back and pull me in. Our legs are threaded together and his thick thighs press against my own like a weighted blanket. A gentle hand pets the back of my head once, brushing my hair out of the way, before moving to my lower back. Ghost’s hand absentmindedly grazes up and down the small of my back as his breathing becomes slower and deeper.
As I lay in this deadly man’s arms – a man who has killed hundreds of people without any remorse and will likely kill hundreds, if not thousands more – I realize that I’ve never felt safer anywhere else. Every other danger in the world ceases to exist next to him. The only person who was angry enough at me for violence holds me close to his chest with his head resting on mine. Right now I feel forgiven for my mistakes and actions. I feel cared for and wanted. The crackling of the fire dies down and my breathing deepens. All I hear are Ghost’s steady breaths and the strong thrumming of his heart against his ribcage. Steady and strong. It beats like a workhorse's hooves against freshly tilled earth. There’s a resoluteness to its strength.
As I drift off into a warm slumber, my ears pick up on one last barely audible phrase from beneath the balaclava.
“You’re one of the few.”
PT 13: https://at.tumblr.com/sunonyoreface/he-knows-simon-ghost-riley-pt-13/b9zr2tyv0iw7
#he knows#COD MW2#cod imagine#cod ghost#MW2#MWII#mw2 imagine#mw2 fanfic#cod fanfic#simon ghost riley#ghost imagine#GHOST FLUFF#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine
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hi sweetie!
i really love the concept of creating fanfics inspired by Lover, i love that album! i would love to order False God with Tangerine; maybe a little angst and smut, only if it works well.
thank you so much! 🩷
𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃 - tangerine
words: 1.3k+
warning: smut, oral (fem), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, this is just a fic)
a/n: this is my first time writing smut so its a bit poorly written :((
I know heaven's a thing
I go there when you touch me
It was a normal day for you. Tangerine was away for an important mission, so you have the whole apartment to yourself. You were on the couch, enjoying your tea while reading the brand new book you just bought yesterday, with your cat by your side when you heard the sound of the door being unlocked.
You stood up from the couch, assuming it was Tangerine. The door opened to show Tangerine - just like you thought - but with a gun pointed at you.
You quickly raised your hand up "Hey! What's that for?" Tangerine didn't answer your question, "Take the cat and go to the car. I'll explain later," He handed you a gun from his back pocket and continued to search the house.
Lemon followed him closely from behind, "The safety's on don't worry," He said, winking at you before disappearing into Tangerine's office. Even though you were confused, you followed Tangerine's instructions. You took the cat and went into the car.
A few minutes later, Lemon and Tangerine came back with a bunch of documents in hand.
"Hey, what's going on?" You asked, clearly worried. "Some fucking douchebag found our address," Tangerine responded.
You nod. From the tone of his voice, you knew he was pissed off, so you decided to not ask any further questions.
The three of you arrived at a hotel. Tangerine had made his way to the receptionist, getting the rooms.
“Hey,” You said, getting Lemon’s attention. “Will everything be okay? I’m worried about Tan,” You frowned, tearing your eyes away from Lemon to look at Tangerine, who was still talking to the receptionist.
“It’ll be okay. I and Tangerine will handle it,” Lemon reassured. “Is there any way I can help?” You offered.
Lemon shook his head immediately “No, no, just try to stay out of it, okay? You mean a lot to him, just stay safe,” He shrugged, going back to his magazine.
The three of you had successfully got the rooms and had ordered room service as Tangerine claimed that ‘it would be safer that way’. You had showered, now waiting for Tangerine on the bed.
“Hey,” Tangerine said tiredly, walking out of the bathroom with only a towel around his hips, hair still wet. “Hey, you okay?” He nodded.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” You were not satisfied with his answer, so you decided to ask more about it. “How did ‘that guy’ you mentioned find our address?” Tangerine looked at you for a few seconds before responding “It doesn’t matter. They know where we live, that’s all you need to know,”
You were frustrated at the lack of information but decided not to press further. “Okay, but what are we going to do now?” Tangerine took a deep breath and sat down on the bed next to you.
“Listen, we’re safe here,” Tangerine began, taking in a deep breath, before continuing. “We can’t leave the hotel tonight. There’re too many people looking for us now, and I don’t want to risk getting caught,” He explained.
“We’re gonna lie low until things calm down,” He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. You leaned into his embrace, glad that you had the opportunity to spend time with him despite the circumstances. “Just enjoy our time here together. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” He leaned in, kissing your forehead.
You smiled, pressing a deep and passionate kiss to his lips, wanting to know that you were there for him. Tangerine let out a noise of surprise but kissed you back anyways. The tension in the room grew thicker.
smut starts here
“Oh shit, you sure?” He asked, making you nod. He took you in his arms again and resumed kissing you passionately.
The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, your hearts were beating like crazy. “Hmm, what about Lemon? He’s right in the next room, y’know, ”
Tangerine grumbled “Don’t worry about him, love. He’s asleep. And besides, he won’t mind one bit,” Tangerine answered with a mischievous smile, his fingers running down your back and his breath growing heavier as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.
“You know you want this as much as I do,” Tangerine whispered. His lips met yours again in a passionate kiss as he continued to run his hands down your body.
His hand went to pull the nightgown off your body. He discarded the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. He couldn’t help but let out a groan as he ran his hand along your hips and brought his lips to your neck.
“You’re so beautiful,” He whispered, his voice full of love and passion. “Thank you,” you said, suddenly shy as his eyes were glued to your body. He chuckled against your neck. “No need to be shy love,”
He laid you on the bed, his hand still caressing your body like it was gold. “Gonna take good care of you, yeah?” He hummed, his hand going to pull off your panties.
“I’ll show you how much I want you, love,” He groaned, attaching his lips to your tit, the other hand massaging the unoccupied one. You let out a moan of pleasure.
He kissed down and down until he had reached your inner thigh. He groaned down at the sight. "Oh, I've missed this pussy," He spread your lower lips apart, putting a finger over the quivering hole, teasing you.
You whined, bucking your hips. "Shh, let me take care of you, darling," He cooed, slipping a finger in. He licked his lips "Always ready for me, huh?"
He eased in another finger, before starting to pump his fingers in and out. The feeling of his finger curling against your g-stop had you gasping and moaning. You put your palm over your mouth, attempting to stop the loud noise.
Tangerine tutted, pulling his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips as he hummed at the sweet taste. You whined at the sudden emptiness. He chuckled, balancing himself on his knees between your thighs.
He took the hand that was on your mouth away “Don’t.” He said sternly, “I wanna hear you,”
He pulled off the towel that was on his hips, revealing his hard cock. You stared at his tip, reaching for it, and smeared the precum to use it as lube.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, his hand going to grab your wrist “You keep doing that and I’ll cum,” You nod, obediently, laying back.
He grabbed your hips and flip you around. You squealed at the sudden action, grasping at the pillow. He grip his cock and teased you by rubbing himself between your folds. He slowly eased into you. You gasp at the sudden stretch.
He kept still for a moment or two before, backing out. He thrust right back in. He picked up the pace, ramming into you from behind. The room was soon filled with grunts and soft moans.
“Hmm, you’re taking me so well, huh?” He said, his hands holding tightly to your hips. You whimpered, running your hand through his curls, mouth agape.
You clenched around him, your abdomen tightening. “I- I’m close” You managed to get out. “Oh, I know… Let go for me, love,” He whispered in your ear. As soon as you get his permission, you came around him.
A few thrusts later, you felt him let go inside of you with a groan, painting your walls white. He lay beside you, and the two of you breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath. You can still hear Lemon snore in the other room, making you chuckle.
“How did he sleep through that?” Tangerine grinned “No idea,” He shrugged. “Sleep?” He asked, you nodded at that. He turned off the light and snuggled into your neck.
“Good night,” He mumbled.
#tangerine#tangerine bullet train#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine smut#tangerine imagine#tangerine x reader smut#tangerine x reader#tangerine x you#aaron taylor johnson#⋆｡°✩ lilys work
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May I please request something where the (gn preferably) reader breaks their glasses during a mission so tech makes them a pair of goggles like his?
anon this is actually the cutest idea ever and as someone whose eyesight is terrible without my contacts (i used to wear glasses but not as much anymore) i understand the struggle <3
words: 2,454
summary: when an accident on the marauder leaves you without your glasses for an unknown period of time, tech takes matters into his own hands and makes you a replacement pair of goggles that match his own.
clone troopers masterlist
Seeing Double
“Kriff!” you swore slightly louder than you originally wanted to, but in your defense, this situation warranted it.
“Everything okay?” Hunter’s voice echoed from the device on your wrist, and it was at that point that you realized you had apparently forgotten to mute yourself on the comms, so the entire squad had just heard your outburst.
“Yeah, just that my glasses broke,” you said, trying to find collect the pieces from the dashboard of the Marauder. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, except for the fact that it was currently nighttime and you needed them to see where you were going.
“Can you still steer the ship?’ Echo’s voice came through the device next. “We’re going to need a pickup soon.”
You weren’t too confident about your abilities at this point, but you also couldn’t let the team down. “It’ll be fine for a little while, but once you get back someone else needs to handle the controls.”
“Alright, as long as you don’t need one of us to go back there now.”
That was the last thing you wanted, because you were still a new member of the team and you definitely didn’t want them to think you weren’t capable. “No, just let me know when and where you need to be picked up from.”
The communication device went silent not long after that, and you were left to sit down in the pilot’s seat and attempt to repair your glasses. The actual lenses themselves seemed to still be intact, but one of the supports that rested behind your ear had come off (due to the fact that they had fallen to the floor and you stepped on the one side before you realized what had happened). But there was one flaw when it came to attempting to appraise the damage, and that was the fact that when they weren’t on your face, you couldn’t see all that well.
You weren’t blind per se (they had let you into the GAR after looking at your eye charts and seeing the glasses you wore every day), but you certainly didn’t see the world in high resolution when you didn’t have the lenses on your face. You had previously considered those tiny clear things that you saw friends put into their eyes, that would completely negate the need for you to wear glasses, but at the same time the idea of putting your fingers too close to your eye was a little bit nerve wracking (you knew the process certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart).
And you hadn’t experienced any issues with your glasses interfering with your work so far, or at least, not until now. Clone Force 99 had accepted you with open arms (well, it had taken a while in the case of one particularly grumpy sniper) when you had been assigned to them. Your technical title was “medic,” although you were also well-versed in mechanics and was qualified enough to repair the ship if necessary. You sometimes wondered if that acceptance had something to do with the fact that one of the members of the squad also wore lenses of some kind on his face, and if was, you were grateful to Tech.
If asked, you would probably cite Tech as your favorite member of the squad, and it wasn’t just because of your shared facial accessory. Even if you didn’t know whether or not his goggles were prescription or he just simply wore them for convenience, the two of you got along fairly well, which was a surprise because you were essentially assigned to them to do some of Tech’s job. But even though others might have seen you as a threat, you and the squad’s resident genius worked well together.
Bringing your focus back to the situation at hand, you realized that there was going to be no way to reattach the arm of your glasses without some kind of bonding agent (due to the place that the material had fractured and split apart when you stepped on it), and you gently pulled them up to your face. They certainly drooped on the side that had no support, but you would be able to see well enough to fly the ship for a few minutes until someone else could take over.
And it was a good thing that you could see at all, because the batch radioed in just a few minutes later, sending you a set of coordinates and telling you to step on it because they had met some hostiles.
Getting in the air was the easy part, but a flying animal that came out of nowhere shocked you to the point where you had to stop short, and your glasses came flying off your head. There was nothing you could do but watch as they clattered down the dashboard of the ship and once again fell and skittered across the floor, so far out of your reach that you knew there was no chance you could recover them before you had to move again. Instead, you would be flying blind (in the literal sense of the expression).
You were sure that the rest of the squad could tell that something was up when they saw the ship arrive at the coordinates, flying slightly tilted and having stopped short before you extended the ramp for them to get in. “Can someone come up here and take the controls?” you called out.
No one answered, but soon footsteps approached the cockpit and you turned around to see Tech walking towards you with his helmet under his arm. You stood up to greet him, but right as you opened your mouth to speak, the sound of transparisteel breaking filled the space, and the two of you looked down in horror as Tech lifted up his boot slightly to reveal your glasses, now completely shattered beyond repair. “Oh my,” he said as he looked at the carnage on the floor. “I deeply apologize, I did not know that was there.”
“It’s okay,” you said, still in some form of shock, but you didn’t want to make Tech feel bad over something he couldn’t control. “It wasn’t your fault, we’ll just need to put in an order with the Republic for some new glasses the next time we reach out to them.”
“That may be quite a while,” Tech responded, having reached down to collect the bent and disfigured remains of the glasses frame off the floor. “I may be able to-”
“Tech,” you cut him off gently, and he looked up at you as you placed your hand on his shoulder. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll be able to survive without them for a little while.”
“Alright,” he said, standing up. “In the meantime, you should rest. The assignment was a success and I will fly the ship until we stop for fuel or the next mission objective comes in.”
You just nodded and headed off to the bunks. You knew that sometimes if you went for a while without your glasses it could lead to headaches as your eyes strained to perform their usual function, so you wanted to avoid that as much as you possibly could (especially if you weren’t going to get new ones for a while). And as you drifted off to sleep to the sound of Gonky moving across the ship in the background, you really hoped that you’d be able to contact the Republic soon.
***
As he watched you leave the room, Tech couldn’t help but feel bad. You had assured him that none of this was his fault and that you weren’t angry at him, but he also knew how stressful it was to be living a life without corrective lenses when your eyesight was not that good. He had seen your glasses before and guessed that your level of nearsightedness was similar to his, and he would never want to spend any amount of time without his goggles, let alone an uncertain and extended period of it. He cleaned the small pile of debris off the floor and placed them in a small container once the ship had entered hyperspace, and for a while he just watched the blue streaks pass him by.
And it was as he watched out through the windshield of the ship that he had an idea.
His goggles were a thing of his own creation, and sometimes different parts needed replacing. Because of that, he had began keeping a small box of parts and pieces on the ship, with enough to make at least two other sets (just in case his primary pair was ruined beyond repair). If your prescription was similar to his, you might be able to wear a matching pair of goggles for a while, or at least until they could contact the Republic and order new glasses for you.
Right as he got up from the pilot’s seat, Hunter stepped into the cockpit. “Oh good, I was just about to call for you,” Tech said. “Can you watch the ship for a little while? I have something urgent to attend to.”
Hunter just nodded, and Tech was thankful that his brother didn’t ask too many questions so he couldn’t be slowed down. He wanted to have them ready for you by the time he next saw you, this way you didn’t have to go too long without any kind of visual aid.
He found the box of parts under his bunk, and after checking to make sure you were asleep in yours, he got to work, pulling the curtain around his cot to keep some privacy about what he was doing.
The shattered pieces of your original lenses turned out to be of some use to him, because he was able to calibrate the goggles to perfectly match your needs. It was much easier than he originally thought it might be, and by the time he could hear movement from outside his bunk, he was just putting the finishing touches on the goggles.
Wondering whether it was you or Wrecker that had woken up, he poked his head out to see you yawn and stretch. Quietly calling your name as to not startle you, Tech got out of bed and beckoned at you to follow him. “Is everything okay?” you asked, blinking as a brighter part of the ship came into view, and Tech quickly moved the hand that was holding the goggles behind his back so you couldn’t see what they were.
“I still feel terrible about your glasses,” he said. You opened your mouth (no doubt to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault), but he held up one of his hands to stop you and the other with the pair of newly constructed goggles in it. “And since I know the repercussions of spending extended periods of time without them, I made you something. I apologize if it is not a style you like, but I only had the materials to reconstruct my goggles and I figured it was better than nothing.”
You were silent as you took the goggles from his outstretched hand, but from the smile on your face, Tech knew that you weren’t spurning his gift. “Thank you,” you eventually said as you placed them on your face. “I love them.”
“I was able to use my scanner to match and calibrate this pair to the same level of magnification as your glasses,” he said.
You nodded, looking around the ship. “Thank you so much Tech. I really can’t believe you would do something like this, I’m so grateful.”
Tech went to respond, but you pulled him into a hug before he could get any words out. “You are very welcome,” he eventually managed to say.
“If you ever need anything from me,” you said. “Please don’t hesitate-”
He cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “I don’t want you to think that you are somehow in debt to me,” he said. “I did this because I wanted to help you, not because I wanted to gain something.”
For a fleeting moment, you looked like you were going to cry, and Tech’s eyes widened as you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, your goggles knocking slightly against his. “I know,” you said. “But still, I want to thank you somehow. Maybe if we can get away from your brothers, I can take you out to dinner the next time we’re on Coruscant?”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Those words were accompanied by a surprised (and hopeful) expression. He had of course taken you in as a member of the team, but it had recently been more apparent to him that how he felt about you was different than how he felt towards other people. He had always hoped that you felt the same way, but was never sure how to broach the topic.
“Yes,” you said, a smile on your face. “Are you accepting?”
“Yes.”
Tech stared at you for a moment, and you stared right back. He started to lean in, and you mirrored his movements. He was just finishing up calculations on how to best kiss you without bumping either set of goggles when he heard footsteps approaching, and he instinctively pulled back.
You apparently had the same idea, and the two of you turned in shock to stare at Hunter, who had just stepped out of the cockpit and had an exasperated look on his face. Whatever hope Tech had of keeping this new relationship development a secret was now completely dead, because with Hunter’s enhanced hearing he must have been able to hear everything before this moment.
And with the two of you wearing both matching expressions and goggles, it must have been a sight to behold for his brother. Hunter opened his mouth, but then closed it before taking a breath. “I’m going to take a nap,” is what he eventually settled on. “Can you two watch the cockpit?”
Tech was halfway through a confirmation of Hunter’s request before his brother had walked completely past them to disappear in the direction of the bunks, and right as he disappeared you quickly leaned in to place a soft (and far too quick, in his opinion) kiss on Tech’s lips.
The cockpit offered a better view anyway, and although it wasn’t completely shielded from his brothers, it was much more private than just standing in the middle of the ship. They didn’t have a lot of time before everyone else woke up and their little secret spread like wildfire through the ship, and Tech wanted to make the most of the peace and quiet.
- the end -
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Protector | part 2
Summary: Be the person you needed as a kid.
Pairing: big sister!Yelena Belova x female!reader, big sister!Natasha Romanoff x teen!female
Warnings: violence, angst, death of a character
Word count: 7746
a/n: The timeline here is obviously different compared to the real MCU, this fic starts after Black Widow and there’s more time between Black Widow and Infinity War. Ideas come from these two asks. I do realize this is similar to Two sides but that’s okay :) read the first part before this!
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore
Natasha will take great care of you.” Yelena reassures as she drives towards the compound. She wasn’t the happiest to leave Y/N behind, but this mission was something she didn’t want her to be part of.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Yelena! I’m 15 and I know very well how to take care of myself.” Y/N looks out the window, pouting she has to be away from Yelena for such a long time. “I’ve done it for my whole life.”
“See, that’s not something we’re going to normalize. Family takes care of each other.”
The word family still makes Y/N feel weird. She isn’t sure how she’s supposed to feel hearing it. She does have some sort of family now, so she should be happy, but at the same time it makes her feel bad. Caring about people always ends badly. No matter what. You can’t win.
Y/N sighs, she knows Yelena won’t change her mind. “Will there be other people.”
“I think so.” Yelena mumbles. That’s also something she wasn’t very excited about. Leaving Y/N with Natasha is okay, but with other unknown people as well is a whole new story. Yelena doesn’t know the Avengers and she doesn’t know how Y/N will be with them. “Nat lives at the compound and I think they fixed things, so no one is a fugitive anymore.”
Y/N hums. “I get to be part of the next mission, yes?”
“Yes, I will keep my promise don’t worry.” She glances at Y/N with a grin. “It’ll be the best mission ever.”
Y/N giggles quietly. “You know every mission we do turns to shit.”
“Hey, language.” Yelena glares at her, while Y/N rolls her eyes. Sometimes Yelena takes the motherly big sister role a bit too seriously. “The next one will be good, I can feel it.”
“I will bet you ten dollars something goes wrong.”
“Deal.” Yelena and Y/N shake their hands at a red light, both having a smile on their face.
“You’ll keep her safe?” Yelena has been standing on the compound’s front door for fifteen minutes already, going over everything Natasha should know about Y/N and making sure she’ll be good.
“I will, Yelena.” Natasha smiles lightly, starting to get annoyed by her sister. She’s holding Y/N’s bag on one hand while the other lays on the younger one’s shoulder. “Nothing bad will happen to her.”
“Good, because if something bad does happen, I will kill you.”
“I know.” Natasha chuckles.
Yelena grumbles at Natasha not taking her threat seriously, so she just turns to Y/N and gives her a tight hug. “I won’t be gone for too long and you can contact me whenever you want to, okay?”
“Okay.” Y/N mumbles to Yelena’s shoulder. She is pressing her head against her, not wanting the involuntary tears to fall. “Be safe.”
“I will.” Yelena kisses her head and backs away from the hug. “Have fun with Natasha!” She starts walking away to her car, waving at the two until the door closes.
Y/N lets out a shaky breath as Natasha starts leading her towards a guest bedroom that’s next to Natasha’s own. “You’ll be sleeping here, is that okay?” Natasha sets Y/N’s bag to the bed.
“Yes, thank you.” Natasha keeps standing around the room quietly while Y/N carefully sits down to the bed. “You don’t have to hover. I know I’m not your sister like Yelena is. Besides, Lena hovers over me more than a family of five combined.” She scoffs with a small smile. She doesn’t hate Yelena’s hovering. It actually makes her feel cared for and safe, but sometimes she takes it too far. Like right now, Y/N would’ve been perfectly capable to go on the mission.
“I’m not doing this just because Yelena asked me to, I genuinely like you and think of you as part of the family.” Natasha sits down next to Y/N. She has a small smile on her face.
“Oh.”
Natasha hums, looking at Y/N’s hands that keep moving. “There won’t be a lot of people around. Wanda is away with Vision, she really wanted to meet you though. And the rest of them are kind of all around.”
“That’s okay. I prefer being around fewer people anyway.”
“So do I.” Natasha stands up, swiping invisible dust off of her hands. “You should rest. You can meet the people who still are here tomorrow. That sound good?”
“Yeah. Thank you, Natasha.”
“Of course.” Natasha gives her a smile before leaving Y/N alone in the room.
Slowly opening her eyes, Y/N looks around the room. The unfamiliarity of it makes her panic momentarily, but she regains her sense of surrounding quickly. The Avengers Compound. She is supposed to be here. She is safe.
Y/N moves the covers aside to stand up. She crosses her arms around her waist, holding herself tightly. She stands in front of the bedroom door, too nervous to actually leave.
At least fifteen minutes pass by. Y/N keeps staring at the door. She isn’t sure which rooms she’s allowed to go, or where the different rooms even are.
Biting her lip, Y/N takes hold of the handle and opens the door. She steps outside. The corridor is almost fully white and full of doors, probably to other bedrooms. She picks a direction and starts walking, her eyes going through everything, especially corners. Old habits die hard.
After a few turns, she starts to hear talking, so she walks towards it. Glancing around a corner, she sees Natasha and an unknown man talking together. With a deep breath, she makes herself known to the pair by walking in.
Natasha turns her way first. “Good morning.”
“Hi.”
The man turns to look at her as well. “Y/N, this is Steve Rogers, the Captain America. Steve, this is Y/N, she was in the Red Room.” She doesn’t mention Yelena or being sisters, Y/N isn’t even sure if Steve knows about it all.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” Steve walks over to her and puts his hand out.
Y/N stares at him. He’s big and looks strong, but Y/N thinks she could take him down if necessary. “Yeah, you too.” She mumbles, shaking his hand for a very short amount.
“I made breakfast.” Natasha shows a plate of waffles.
“She didn’t actually make them, they’re from the freezer.” Steve fake whispers so Natasha could clearly hear him.
She rolls her eyes, setting two plates down to the table. “Don’t you have a run to go to?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Steve holds up his hands in mock surrender, a smile on his face. “I’m going. Have fun you two.” He walks away.
Natasha gestures towards a chair opposite of her. Y/N walks over to it, sitting down. She stares at the plate full of waffles. There are so much it could feed her and Yelena.
“I wasn’t sure how hungry you are. No need to eat it all.” Natasha smiles quiet sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “There’s berries and syrup, take whatever you want. Do you want orange juice? Or apple? We also have water, of course.”
Y/N looks at Natasha. She seems nervous, which is different. She didn’t think someone like Natasha Romanoff could get nervous. “Orange.”
“Got it.” Opening the fridge, Natasha pours orange juice to Y/N’s and her own glass, leaving the jug to the table afterwards. She sits down to her own chair. “I hope you like waffles. I didn’t think to ask yesterday what you’d like for breakfast.”
“I like them.”
“Good.”
They start eating in silence. Y/N takes small pieces at a time, keeping her eyes on the food, while Natasha keeps glancing at her direction. She analyses her face every time, looking for any sign of uncomfortableness or dislike, but she doesn’t see any. Although, Natasha isn’t surprised, Widows are good at keeping their emotions in check.
“You and Yelena have been freeing the other Widows?”
“Yes.”
“It’s going well?”
“Mhm.” Y/N nods, chewing on her food.
Natasha taps the fork with her finger. She isn’t sure how to keep the conversation going with the teenager, or how to overall get more than one word answers.
“What will you do after all the Widows have been freed?”
Y/N shrugs, moving pieces of the waffle around with her fork. “I don’t know. I don’t really know what I’m good at besides killing.”
“That’s what I thought too, but I figured it out. So will you.” Natasha offers her a gentle smile.
“Don’t you still do it?”
“Huh?”
“Killing. Don’t you still kill people? You’re just on the other side now.” Y/N stares at Natasha who struggles to provide an answer. “You would’ve been killed if you weren’t recruited to Shield, yes? So I either have to become an Avenger or a mercenary. And I’m not becoming an Avenger, so I’ll be a paid killer until someone kills me.”
“Well- no.” Natasha looks at Y/N, who has very monotone look on her face. She doesn’t understand how Yelena makes it look so easy. She interacts with Y/N with ease and makes her feel better with just few words.
“It’s okay. I’m just trying to be realistic.”
“Right.” Natasha pushes the empty plate to the side. “Listen, I’m not good at this.” She gestures between the two of them. “Teenagers aren’t my forte, and you aren’t even a normal teenager. Yelena somehow makes it look so easy.” She chuckles. “But I really do want to get close to you, okay?”
Y/N nods, she looks down to hide a small smile. “It’s not easy.”
“Hm?”
“With Yelena.” Y/N turns to look at Natasha. “It’s not easy with her. We fight a lot and disagree on many things. We’re somehow exactly the same and complete opposites, so everything is just a…shit show.”
“Language.” Natasha mumbles with a smirk. Y/N scoffs, smiling at herself. “Yelena can be headstrong and idiotic at times, but she is great.”
“She is.” Y/N frowns. “I don’t think I could do anything without her. She’s the reason I’m sane.”
Standing up, Natasha walks over to Y/N’s side and hugs her. “I know she couldn’t be without you either. And you’ll see her soon. Until then,” Natasha pushes her to arms length, holding onto her shoulders, “we’ll have fun, okay?”
“Okay.” Y/N giggles
“I told you I’d take you to the next mission.” Yelena whispers as she, Y/N and Sonya, a third Widow sneak around the huge house. Y/N only shushes her, making Yelena shush her back in annoyance.
They all freeze when the target, Ana, another Widow, steps in front of them. Yelena and her start fighting, while Y/N fishes out a vial of the antidote. “Yelena!” She shouts, throwing the vial towards her.
Yelena grabs it and releases it in front of the woman’s face. “The next bit is going to be really scary, but we are here to help you.”
The woman scrambles up from under Yelena. She stares at the big red spot on her carpet. “Look what you did to my rug. 20 000 dollars down the drain, thanks.” Y/N frowns, she sure didn’t think that’d be the first thing on her mind after being freed from mind control.
“Excuse me?” Yelena looks just as confused.
“I don’t think she was brainwashed.” Sonya chimes in.
“What, you thought I was some rich pervert’s prisoner?” She stares at all three of them.
“Well, yeah, kind of.”
“Wait, this is your house? How can you afford all of this?”
“By doing the thing we’re all best at. Killing for money.”
Y/N sighs at the sentence. No matter how hard she tries to get away from it, everything just keeps reminding her of the purpose she was made to do. Kill people.
The four of them go to sit in the living room and talk in a more civilized manner. Y/N keeps mostly to herself while the three adults talk about the freed Widows.
“Yelena, how is your other sister doing?”
“She’s doing okay.” Yelena smiles lightly.
“Good.”
“Yeah, she’s good.”
“And then, you and Natasha will be reunited and go live your Sex and the City fantasy in New York.” Sonya giggles, missing the solemn look on Y/N’s face. She and Yelena always did want to go to New York, but it doesn’t look like she’s involved in the plan.
Yelena hums. “Excuse me.” She stands up and walks away from the trio.
Y/N sighs, sinking to the chair. She looks around the apartment. It would be very luxurious to live in a place like this, but she doesn’t want to kill people anymore. There has to be something else she’s good at.
Ana turns on the television to pass time. The sound of it is all smushed to Y/N as she thinks about her future. “I’m gonna go see what’s taking Yelena so long.” She mumbles, standing up and walking towards the bathroom Yelena went into. She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing. “Yelena?” Knocking again, louder than before, she starts to feel worry bubble in her stomach. “I’m coming in.”
Y/N opens the door, but the room is empty. With a frown, she starts looking inside the rooms close by. They’re all empty. Starting to get panicky, Y/N goes back to the living room.
“I can’t find Yelena.”
“Y/N.” Sonya has a horrified look on her face as she turns to look at her, but Y/N pays no mind.
“Are there any other rooms she could’ve went into in this giant house of yours?” Ana’s face is glued to the television. “Hello?”
“Y/N.” Sonya grabs her arm.
“What?”
Sonya turns her towards the television. “Listen.”
The News channel is on. It’s showing chaos all over the city. Cars crashing into each other, a helicopter falling down, people disappearing. “It seems like people are randomly turning into dust and disappearing. No one knows why this is happening or where the people are going. We’ll conti-“
The news anchor continues to talk, but Y/N doesn’t hear it anymore. People are disappearing. “No.” She mumbles, shaking her head. “She didn’t turn into dust, she’s here somewhere.”
“Y/N…” Sonya sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, but she brushes it away instantly.
“No!” Her breathing picks up as she continues to shake her head. “No. This is some cruel joke. This isn’t real. Yelena!” She shouts, starting to walk towards a hallway, but Sonya stops here.
“She isn’t here.”
“No!” She tries to pull away, but Sonya wraps her arms around Y/N. “Let go of me!” She starts wriggling around, but the older Widow doesn’t let go.
“Let it out. Let it out.”
“Stop it! She can’t be gone.” Y/N sobs, slowly losing her fight. “She can’t be gone.” She drops to her knees, crying, while Sonya continues holding her.
The phones have been ringing for a half an hour already, but Y/N has no energy to pick it up. She just stares at Yelena’s bed. It’s empty. It shouldn’t be empty. Her eyes have already dried, she doesn’t think she could physically cry anymore.
Yelena’s phone rings. She didn’t have it with her on the mission. She doesn’t dare to pick it up. Yelena always said: ”Keep your hands off of it! You have your own phone.”. The phone stops ringing.
After a minute, Y/N’s own phone starts ringing. Finally she answers it. “What?” Her voice cracks from all the crying and screaming she did earlier. She doesn’t even remember how she got to the house, all she knows she was sobbing her heart out.
“Why the hell haven’t you and Yelena been answering your phones?” Natasha’s loud and angry voice comes through the speaker. Y/N knows she’s only worried. “You can’t do that! I was so fucking scared.” She hears Natasha take a deep breath. “Are you two okay? Can I talk to Yelena?”
“Yelena isn’t here.”
There’s a long silence on the other side of the phone. It almost sounds like Natasha hung up, but the occasional shaky breath lets Y/N knows she’s still there. “Where is she?”
“She’s not here.” Y/N repeats.
“You already said that.” Her voice gets louder again. “Where is she?”
“Not here.”
“Y/N!”
Y/N’s hold of the phone tightens momentarily. “I don’t know. I guess she’s with the other half of the world.”
“No… No, no, she can’t.” Natasha mumbles. She sounds worried. There’s a pause. Y/N can hear her pacing. “Where are you?”
“At our house.”
“Okay.” Natasha clears her throat. “Okay, you should come to the compound. Yelena wouldn’t want you to live alone. We’ll fix this, I promise.”
“Okay.”
For a moment, Y/N actually believes her.
The first year of the blip, Y/N stays in the Avengers compound. She finally meets the rest of the team, or the ones that are left. She doesn’t like them. Why do they get to be here but Yelena doesn’t. It’s not fair. Yelena should be here. She’s glad most of them have already left. Y/N doesn’t think she could have spent longer with them. They’re pathetic.
For the first few months she didn’t speak any more than she had to. She stayed in the guest room assigned to her and ignored everyone. When someone talked to her, she’d mostly nod and hum. Although, sometimes she couldn’t even do that. She’d just stare into the abyss.
Then she started to get angry. When Natasha tried to talk to her, Y/N would shut her off completely. Yelling, slamming doors, throwing things, anything to shut her up. It didn’t work, at first, Natasha would keep coming back. She made a promise to Yelena after all, she’d keep Y/N safe. But after a while, she stopped trying as much.
Y/N started to resent everyone and everything. She hated the feeling of uselessness. The survivors. The ones who started to forget and move on. The Avengers. Natasha. Yelena.
There’s a knock on her door. Y/N puts down her phone. She’s been on it a lot these days. She goes to open the door. “What?”
Natasha holds a plate of food on her hand. “You haven’t come out of your room for days. You have to eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.” Y/N starts closing the door, but Natasha stick her foot in between.
“I don’t care. You’ll eat.” Natasha welcomes herself in the room. It’s tidy. It’s always been tidy. Y/N is still accustomed to order and organization. It’s also empty. Y/N never wanted to get anything extra to her room. Because this isn’t her home. Her home is where Yelena is. “It’s just scraps from yesterday. I can’t cook, you know that, and Steve isn’t here today.”
“Right.”
Natasha gives the plate to Y/N, sitting next to her. “How are you?”
“Perfect, obviously.” She holds onto the plate, but doesn’t eat.
“Y/N.” Natasha sighs. She rubs her forehead. “I know this is difficult to you, I understand. But y-“
“No!” Y/N pushes the plate back to Natasha as she stands up. “You don’t know. You don’t understand!” She laughs, her eyes wide. She’s hollow. There’s nothing in her voice or eyes. “You have your second family or whatever you call them. All I had was Yelena. She was my family!”
Natasha sets the plate down to a side table, grabbing Y/N’s hands. “I know. And I promise you that we will get her back.”
“Don’t you dare promise me things you don’t even believe in.” Her words come out like a bite. Sharp. Cold. Rough.
“I do believe we can get everyo-“
Y/N pulls herself away from Natasha. “Oh shut up! We both know you can’t do anything alone. And everyone else has already given up.”
Both of them turn quiet. They stare at each other. Y/N’s chest is rising up and down as she breathes heavily.
“I want to leave.”
“You know where the door is.” Natasha mumbles.
Y/N clenches her jaw. It hurt. She knows she’ll regret leaving, so does Natasha letting her leave, but both of their judgments are clouded by emotions.
Y/N packs the few things she has and strides out the door, bumping into Natasha on the way. Natasha spends the night in Y/N’s room, crying.
The next four years go by rather quickly. Y/N doesn’t let herself have any free time to think or feel. She just works and then works some more. She was grateful to have a lot of work. People became angry and violent during the blip. They wanted other people dead. And Y/N was there to grant their wish. It also paid well.
Still, Y/N never moved out of her and Yelena’s old apartment. She never even changed anything in it. She wanted to keep Yelena’s side clean and pristine for her return. If she ever does return.
She cleans her knives from the blood that’s coating them. She always has preferred them over guns, even though the gun collection she has is big. The only sound in the house is coming from the television. The News channel is on.
Y/N throws a clean knife to her bag and picks up the next one. She stares at it. It’s Yelena’s. It has blood on it. It doesn’t feel right. Taking a wet cloth, she starts scrubbing it furiously, gritting her teeth together while doing it.
“Shit!” She drops the knife. Her palm is bleeding. “Motherfucker.” Mumbling, she goes to pick up the first aid kit.
While she bandages her hand, her attention turns to the television. The news anchor is speaking quite frantically.
Y/N ups the volume. ”We’ve just gotten new information from the fight against Thanos. Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff are confirmed dead.” Her whole body freezes. “But their sacrifice has brought back the half we lost during blip. Thank you for your heroism Ave-*
Y/N screams, throwing a knife straight to the television screen. Her breathing picks up quickly. She has to kneel down so she wouldn’t fall down. One of her hands is on the door while the other is pressing against her chest.
Natasha is dead. They’re back. Natasha is dead. They’re back.
The words circle through her brain. She starts feeling sick. Natasha tried calling her few times. Y/N didn’t answer. Then she texted how they’ll save Yelena. Y/N didn’t answer that one either. She didn’t believe her.
Running to the bathroom, Y/N kneels in front of the toiler just in time before vomiting. She coughs. It feels impossible to breathe. There isn’t enough air. The walls are closing in.
There’s a harsh knock on the door.
Y/N freezes. The knocking doesn’t stop. She flushes the toilet and washes her mouth with water. It’s all going in slow motion for her. The walk to the front door feels so long. A shaky breath leaves her mouth when her hand touches the handle.
She opens the door.
“No.” Her voice is quiet, but she sounds and looks just the same as five years ago. Y/N on the other hand, she almost looks unrecognizable to her. Of course she’d always recognize her little sister no matter what. But she’s so…adult like. “You didn’t disappear.”
Y/N shakes her head. She isn’t sure if her voice even works.
“You were alone, for five years.”
“I was.” She croaks out.
“You are an adult now.”
“I am.”
Yelena pulls her into a bone crushing hug. Y/N can’t do it back, so she just stands there. After a while Yelena pulls back to properly look at her. Her hand traces through every feature. Y/N’s face is rougher now, there’s a ragged scar near her left eye. It hasn’t healed properly. Yelena’s thumb caresses it. All that’s running through her mind is how she wasn’t there to protect her.
“You still owe me that ten dollars.” Y/N whispers.
“What?” Yelena’s gaze turns from the scar to her eyes. She instantly frowns. They look so cold compared to when she was a kid.
“You owe me ten dollars, from the mission. I told you it’d turn to shit.”
“Language.”
“You can’t say that to me anymore.”
“Yes I can.” Yelena laughs. It’s airy and sad. “I’m still your big sister.”
The words make Y/N frown. Yelena doesn’t have a big sister anymore. “Natasha is dead.”
“I know.”
“She saved you.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t believe her.” She whispers. “She promised to bring you back, but I didn’t believe her.”
“It’s okay. She knows you didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
Y/N scoffs, walking further in the house. Yelena follows her after closing the front door. Her brows scrunch when she notices the broken television, knives and bloodied papers near the aid kit. Only now she realizes Y/N’s hand is bandaged.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“This is not nothing.”
“Just leave it, Yelena.” She snaps. Y/N groans, rubbing her head. She doesn’t want to get angry at Yelena, especially not right now. She just got back. “Nothing happened.” She rips the knife out of her television. It definitely won’t work anymore.
Yelena sighs, deciding to change the subject. “What have you done during the five years?”
“I was at the Avengers compound for the first year, then I left.”
“And then?”
“You don’t want to know.” Yelena raises a brow. Y/N groans, rolling her eyes. “I…killed people, for money.”
Yelena purses her lips together. She’s mad, obviously. She didn’t want Y/N to live this kind of life, but at the same time, she would’ve done the same. “Okay. Who do you work for?”
“Different people. Whoever needs me.”
Humming, Yelena looks around the apartment. It looks exactly the same. It’s comforting to see that at least something is the same. “Does your current boss need another employee?”
Y/N slams the car door closed, watching as Fanny runs right past her. She walks behind Yelena. The whole car ride there was quiet, Y/N didn’t know what to say, if she even should say anything. She doubts there’s anything that’d help the grief Yelena is feeling. And she’s mourning too, though at times she wonders if she’s allowed to. Anytime those feelings come, though, Yelena seems to be there to remind it’s okay for her to be sad.
Yelena cleans up the grave, while Y/N kneels in front of it. She isn’t sure if her legs would hold her.
Natasha Romanoff
Daughter Sister Avenger
Yelena presses her head against the side of the grave. Whistling to it and then pausing, hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone would answer.
She stands and helps Y/N up as well. They stare at the gravestone in silence, until the sound of blowing a nose disturbs them. Turning to look at the person, they see Valentina.
“Wow, sorry.” She sniffles. “I’m allergic to the Midwest. What this woman did, honestly, I can’t even imagine.”
“You’re not supposed to be bothering us on out holiday time, Valentina.” Yelena comments, refusing to look at her.
“Oh, bothering you? Oh, no, no. I’m just here paying my respects.”
Yelena hums, not believing a word that comes out of her mouth. “You know, coming here makes you look desperate.” They laugh, but Yelena turns serious very quickly. “We want a raise.”
“Oh, yeah. You and me both. Believe me, you’re gonna earn it.” Valentina takes out a tablet. “I’ve got your next target. Thought I’d hand-deliver it. Maybe you two would like a shot at the man responsible for your sister’s death.” Yelena takes the tablet, showing it to Y/N as well. “Kind of a cutie, don’t you think?”
Y/N stares at the picture. Clint Barton, an Avenger, the one Natasha was stuck in Budapest with. She turns to look at Yelena, who has mostly a emotionless look on her face, but she can see the fury deep within.
Here they go again.
Y/N stares at her phone while Yelena is changing out of the uncomfortable suit. They’re in New York, staying in a fancy apartment Yelena got for them. She has always been the one who thrives in fashion.
’We have a plan, Y/N. We’ll save Yelena and everyone else. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Just like I promised.’
It’s the last text Natasha sent to her. The one she didn’t answer to. Natasha died thinking she’s still mad at her, when truthfully, she never was. Y/N shouldn’t have left. Maybe Natasha would be still alive if she stayed.
“Aren’t you going to change out of that?” Yelena stares at Y/N.
Glancing down at her own suit, Y/N shrugs. She doesn’t have the energy to move. Her side hurts. She’s pretty sure the other woman sliced her with a knife, but Yelena never noticed, so Y/N will keep quiet about. She’d worry too much.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” She sighs. “Just tired.”
Yelena hums. “I think I lost my mask in there.” Clint pulled it off in the middle of the fight. It never looked practical to Y/N.
“Do you want to go get it?”
“No, I’ll get a new one.” Yelena keeps staring at Y/N, whose eyes are still glued to her phone. She’s reading the text over and over again, as if magically Natasha would text her again and she could apologize. “I think we should visit Kate Bishop later.”
“Okay.”
“You’ve been very distant recently.”
Y/N puts down her phone to look at Yelena. “I don’t know what you mean.” She presses her hand against the wound to slow down the bleeding, hiding the grimaces of pain.
“You don’t talk, you don’t want to do anything but work.” Yelena walks closer. “I’m worried.”
”There’s no need to worry.” Y/N mumbles. She sighs, combing her hand through her hair. Standing up, she starts organizing the things around their apartment. She wanted to keep everything neat and Yelena is more messy than her. It was also way to escape her thoughts.
“You’ve changed.” Yelena states. Her voice is full of worry, but she tries not to show it too much.
“You don’t get it, Yelena.” Y/N’s voice is desperate as she moves her hands around. “Of course I’m different. It’s been five fucking years!”
“Language, please.”
“Stop acting like you’re still my overprotective older sister. I don’t need that anymore.” She starts pacing around her spot, rubbing her forehead. Her head is starting to get cloudy. She can’t get her thoughts straight.
“You don’t just magically stop needing your big sister!” Yelena frowns. “Which is why I’ll al-“
Y/N throws an empty glass to the wall. “Oh shut up!” Yelena doesn’t flinch from the burst of anger.
“Throwing things isn’t going to solve anything.” Yelena takes a few steps forward. She can see the struggle in Y/N’s eyes. “You talk to me when you feel angry. You tell me what’s going on in your mind. You come to me. Because you still need me.” She grabs Y/N’s hands, tightening her hold when she stats pulling away.
Y/N grunts, getting increasingly frustrated by Yelena, who pulls her even closer and closer. “Stop.” She mumbles.
Yelena wraps her arms fully around Y/N, locking her arms under them. Slowly, Y/N starts breaking down. Her tears fill with tears and they fall down her cheeks. Yelena shushes her as she starts sobbing, whispering sweet nothing into her ear. “We’re going to be okay.” She lifts up her hand when she feels something wet. Blood. “Lets get this cleaned up.”
Kate is sitting right in front of them. Yelena is talking with her while eating mac and cheese. Most of the conversation has gone past Y/N, she doesn’t have any energy to listen.
Her head is still a mess, somehow she can’t clear it as well as before. Maybe it has something to do with Yelena being back, or Natasha dying, Y/N doesn’t know.
Kate’s eyes keep glancing at her. She isn’t sure if it’s because of how quiet she is being or how roughly she fought at the rooftop. Her fighting style has changed, though it still involves knives and combat, but she’s more brutal, more calculating. It has helped her a lot at being a mercenary. She learned to detach her feelings from the job, which just made her better.
“No. Our sister saved the world. Natasha Romanoff, she saved the world.” The sentence brings Y/N back down to Earth.
Sister. She isn’t sure if she even knows what the word means anymore.
“You’re really Natasha’s sisters?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Y/N mumbles, speaking for the first time since they arrived to Kate’s old apartment.
Both Kate and Yelena turn to look at her, the latter having a questioning look on her face. “What?”
“She’s not my sister.” Her voice is quiet and her eyes are stuck on the table. “She’s not.” Standing up, Y/N leaves the apartment alone.
Yelena doesn’t come of call after her, she isn’t done with Kate Bishop yet. She also knows she wouldn’t get anything out of Y/N when she’s being so distant.
Y/N walks through the streets of New York until she’s far away from people. After a few seconds of utter silence, she lets out a loud, bloodcurdling scream. She screams until she doesn’t have any air left. Holding onto her stomach, she takes deep breaths.
She couldn’t call Natasha her sister with good conscience anymore. Not after what she did, or didn’t do. It’s her fault she died. Maybe if she stayed at the compound she could’ve taken her place. She didn’t deserve to die. She had people who needed her, like Yelena.
“She’s dead.” She mumbles, closing her eyes. “She’s dead and I killed her.” Blowing air out of her mouth, she relaxes. It helps her, in some sick sense. She’ll spend a lot of time saying things out loud, to remind her what’s real. It clears her head, because sometimes things get mixed up.
After spending three more hours on the one spot, Y/N finally starts walking again. She’s going slowly, staring at her surroundings. She hasn’t really spent any free time exploring the city like Yelena. Not that she had any free time. When Yelena went to see the tourist spots, Y/N did side jobs. She hasn’t told Yelena about it.
The lights are beautiful during the night. She looks up at the buildings. The mist from her breath comes to her field of vision every time she breathes out.
She stops in the middle of an empty street, taking in the cold. She always hated it after the Red Room, but now she misses it. The slight pain from being out in the cold for too long feels like an embrace.
With one last deep breath of the fresh air, she starts walking towards the apartment her and Yelena are staying at. She doesn’t say anything when she comes in, neither does Yelena. She’s grateful for that. At times Y/N hopes Yelena has given up on her like Natasha did. That she’d let her walk out of the door without stopping her, and her every action brings her closer to it.
Yelena and Y/N split right away as they enter the huge Christmas party. They’re looking for Clint, both of them wanting to get the mission over, especially Y/N. It’s too close to Natasha.
Y/N rolls her eyes when the sniper starts shooting. Of course nothing ever goes their way. She follows Yelena to go after Clint, but they lose him momentarily in the midst of chaos and darkness. However, they find a hallway leading to the elevators Clint is in.
As they wait for one, Kate walks up to them. “So, I know you’re chummy with my mom, but I gotta say, I didn’t think you’d make the cut for the Christmas party.”
“Kate Bishop.” Yelena smiles, making Y/N rolls her eyes. She gets too sidetracked in her opinion. “We’re not here to ruin anything. We’re just going to kill Barton, have some appetizers, and then we’ll go.”
“I hope you enjoy the bruschetta, ‘cause it looks like you already lost him.”
“He’s in the elevator.”
“Yeah, what, out of 65 floors, you think you’re just gonna magically guess which one he’s on?”
One of the elevators dings. “Twelfth floor.”
“Damn it.” Kate mumbles.
“Can you two shut up.” Y/N grumbles, staring at the other elevator’s numbers to will them to go faster.
Yelena shakes her head with a sigh before grinning at Kate. “She’s a bit grumpy.” The elevator opens. “Enjoy the party.” The two assassins get in, Yelena stopping Kate from entering. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as she slips in right before the door closes.
The three of them stand there in silence. At least for a while. Kate decides to disturb it by trying to push all the elevator buttons, multiple times, which Yelena stops every time. Until the third time when Kate slaps her. Y/N actually snorts at it.
As the elevator door opens at the next floor, Y/N and Yelena run out of it, the latter cursing Kate and throwing her jacket at her. Kate runs right after them.
She catches up to them in the middle of some offices. They fight, though not with their full strength. Y/N isn’t opposed to leaving casualties behind, but right now she just wants to get past her.
Kate blocks the doorway forward. “What are we doin’?” She smiles widely. “I mean, it’s Christmas Eve. Let’s grab a drink, huh?”
Yelena nods. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. After we kill Barton.”
“No. No, that’s not what- Come on. You don’t need to-“
Y/N huffs, getting tired to the stalling. “Get out of my way.” She slams herself against Kate, making her fly out of her position. She holds a foot over her chest. “And stay out of it.” Irritated, she jogs away from Kate, who gets up quickly to continue fighting with Yelena.
They finally get to the window, but right when Yelena is about to use her baton, Kate throws an object straight to her hand. “Ow! That really hurts!” Yelena throws her hands around, grimacing in pain.
“Yeah. Yeah, well so did the kick in the ribs.”
“Oh, yeah. That was a good one. That was good form.” Y/N rolls her eyes at the conversation going on. “But you did the really cool body throw.” Yelena motions the throw with her hands.
“Yeah, thank you. Thank you.” Kate purses her lips. “Stop making me like you.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”
“Oh my god.” Y/N groans, throwing out the wire and jumping out of the window.
Yelena stares at the now empty window. “She’s not one to make friends.” She shrugs at Kate. “That was really fun. Bye.” Jumping out of the window, she takes out her gun and starts shooting at Clint with Y/N. Unfortunately for them, they miss their shots. On the ground, they run to hiding.
They attack Clint again on the ice, Yelena body throwing him to the ground. Clint lays on the ground as Y/N and Yelena stand near him. “Before I kill you, I need to ask you one question.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Yelena and Y/N.”
“I need to know what happened.”
Clint sits up, taking ragged breaths. “Look, Yelena, if I told you what really happened, you’d never believe me. But what you need to know is your sister sacrificed herself, and she saved the world. I’m sorry.” He glances at Y/N, who is intensely staring him down.
Shaking her head, Yelena frowns. “You’re lying. You’re pathetic. You’re so pathetic.” She kicks him down and starts fighting him.
Clint holds Yelena on her place. “Nobody killed her. She made a choice.”
Y/N’s body freezes as she stares at the fighting going on. She knows Clint is lying. She’s the reason Natasha is dead, whether he knows it or not. It’s her fault.
“You’re not listening to me. She sacrificed herself, understand?” Clint holds Yelena on a chokehold, while Yelena looks like she’s about to cry. “I couldn’t stop her.”
Y/N just stares at the fight. Her eyes are glasses over. It’s like she can’t move. Like she’s in the middle of a nightmare that she can’t wake up from. She supposes it is in a way. Just the other way around. Sleep is her escape, but she can’t sleep forever. She has to live day after day in her forever nightmare.
The fight flashes before her eyes. Suddenly Yelena has Clint overpowered. “You should’ve fought harder.” Yelena takes out her baton, nearing Clint as she starts beating him until he can barely hold himself up.
That’s when Yelena drops the baton and takes out her gun, aiming at him. Clint whistles. It makes goosebumps appear on Y/N’s skin, and Yelena stops moving.
“How do you know that?”
“Your secret whistle with Nat. She talked about you all the time, Yelena. She told me about how you got separated as kids. She was flying that plane.” Y/N knows the story. It’s one of the first memories Yelena told her about Natasha. “I asked her if she was scared. All she could think about is that you were safe. That never changed, Yelena. She loved you. And always wanted you safe. Both of you.” He turns to look at Y/N.
“No.” She mumbles.
Natasha told Clint all about Y/N. How the first year of the blip they were together and how regretful Natasha felt after letting her leave. “She was never mad at you.”
“Stop it.”
“She forgave you right away.” Every word he speaks, the more Y/N hurts. “All she wanted was to have you back with her, so she could keep you safe. Like she had promised Yelena.”
Y/N shakes her head. All the thoughts in her head are getting too much.
“She loved you.”
“No!” The change happens in a split second. She takes out two knives, starting to fight Clint who can barely dodge her. Her moves are rough and all over the place. She isn’t calculating all of her moves like usually, now it’s pure emotion and brute force. “She’s dead!” Her yell echoes through the area. Clint is getting littered with cuts while Yelena stands on her place, too stunned to move. “She’s dead! And it’s…it’s-“
Clint gets holds of Y/N’s hands, holding them tightly so she couldn’t move them. She fights against him, but eventually drops down to her knees.
“It’s my fault.” She whispers. ”I killed her.” Dropping the knives from her hands, she stops fighting. Yelena frowns from the sidelines, she didn’t know Y/N thought like that. ”I never answered her. I could’ve stopped her, I could’ve helped.” She mutters.
“You couldn’t have. She made her decision.”
Y/N glares at him, ripping her arms off of Clint’s grip. She stands up and walks away, pulling away from Yelena’s touch as she walks past her.
She continues walking until her legs physically can’t carry her anymore. There’s a small bridge right in front of her, so she goes to sit down on the railing. No one is going through it, giving Y/N a chance to be alone. Her nails are digging deep into her palms and her teeth are clenched together, causing a constant headache.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Yelena’s voice breaks the quiet atmosphere. “Natasha’s death wasn’t your fault.” She says it again to make sure Y/N hears her.
“I didn’t answer her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She tried to call me and sent me a text before she died, saying she’d bring you back. I didn’t answer. I was angry at her.”
Yelena leans against the railing while staring at Y/N. “It’s still not your fault.” She sets her hand on Y/N’s back. “I should’ve been there for you, raising and protecting you. You shouldn’t have been alone.” Yelena huffs, frustrated at the whole situation. “I should’ve protected you.”
“Well you didn’t, did you?” Y/N turns around, dropping down from the railing to stand in front of Yelena. “You weren’t there to keep me safe or comfort me, and that’s shitty, but you can’t do anything to change it. So, just stop it.”
Yelena purses her lips together. She knows Y/N is right. In a way, they can probably never get back to the way they were. Y/N is an adult now. She was all alone for years and that changed her for the rest of her life.
“I don’t need a protector anymore. I don’t need you anymore.”
Swallowing, Yelena frowns. The words hurt to hear. Because she still needs Y/N. “Family never stops needing each other.”
“This family broke a long time ago.” Y/N whispers. “I know it was only few seconds to you, but to me it was five years. And during those years I grew up, it’s time for me to move on. You should do the same.”
“No. I don’t want to.” Yelena shakes her head, stepping closer to Y/N. “I’m not leaving you alone again.”
“You aren’t leaving me, Yelena. I’m walking away.” Y/N clears her throat so her sound wouldn’t waver so much. “Thanks for giving me a family, even if it was only for a short while.” She nods and turns around.
“No, Y/N.” Yelena’s eyes turn glassy as she stares at Y/N’s back. “I forbid you from walking away from me!”
“You can’t do that anymore.” Y/N shouts out with a sad smile, not stopping, not looking back.
Yelena keeps standing on her place, just watching as Y/N moves further and further away. She doesn’t follow her.
She can’t do that anymore.
#marvel#mcu#mcu imagine#marvel imagine#mcu fanfiction#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x teen!reader#natasha romanoff x yelena belova#the black widow#black widow#platonic yelena belova#yelena belova x sister!reader#yelena belova x female reader#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova#yelena belova x teen!reader#steve rogers#kate bishop#clint barton#angst
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Cookie monster
Summary: After working hard while preparing for a comeback, you decide to make Felix's life a little sweeter.
Pairing: Felix X gn reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 2.4K
_ _ _
When Felix came home from the JYP building, he was exhausted. Half-closed lids and sleepy eyes. One slight touch and he might topple over like a stack of dominoes. The night before, he hadn’t gotten much sleep. With a day full of bustling activity, there wasn’t time for rest.
New dances to learn, new songs to record, another language to memorize. Glued to a chair while stylists did their best to hide the ever-growing brown bags beneath his eyes. Stuck somewhere between this reality and the next, he’d turned into a zombie.
The same routine was starting to get to him again. The days felt repetitive and no matter how much he tried to change his mindset, it was starting to bother him. Another comeback was creeping up and everyone was trying their best to be ready for it.
If it meant lack of sleep and a skipped meal here and there, so be it. He had one goal in mind and it was to perform and be better than the last comeback. He put too much pressure on himself and he was starting to crack.
You saw through him easily. His multiple text messages filled with emojis had turned into a few one-word responses throughout the day. The phone calls between the two of you had ceased. You tried your best to be there for him, but it wasn’t always possible. You had a job and your own life to focus on.
The opening of the front door caused you to end the phone call with your friend and slip into the living room. Felix stood with his eyes closed and his back pressed against the door. You studied his prominent jawline and golden freckled face while debating to approach him or not.
Eventually, you gave into your temptation and started towards him. His eyes opened and his lips turned up into a sleepy smile. “Hi, baby.” He held his arms out towards you.
You hurried forward and wrapped your arms around him tightly. Your own smile appeared on your face as you pressed your cheek into his white shirt. “Hi. Did you have a good day?”
“It was okay, but I’m exhausted.” His arms engulfed you in a loving hug. You let out a soft sigh and held him a little tighter. He chuckled, “what’s this for?”
“Am I not allowed to miss my significant other?” You glanced up at him with a teasing tone.
He shrugged, “you’re not normally too fond of skin-ship.”
“You might have caught me. I’ve had a rough day and I missed you more than I usually do. Plus, you have a comeback and interviews and traveling and yo-”
Felix groaned at the thought of it all. “Please don’t remind me. I just want to climb into our bed. I went to the studio this morning and I swear I could feel the stress in the building throughout the day. Everyone is putting so much pressure on themselves. We’re exhausted and the comeback isn’t here yet.”
“It sounds like you guys need a break.”
“I know,” Felix frowned, “but we can’t afford to take one right now. It’ll smooth over soon, it always does, but until then; we all feel like we’re in a bit of a rut right now. I love my job and I love my fans so much, but sometimes I wish I could take a week long break.”
“And everyone is working so hard right now. So many people are exhausted, but they keep going. It’s unhealthy, but it’s inspiring too. I’m not sure how they’re doing it. The band members, our personal staff and stylists, the management, etc. They’re doing an amazing job and I wish I knew how to thank them for staying strong in such a chaotic time period.”
Another smile appeared on your face. Felix was one of the most selfless people you knew. Even in a time of madness, he was still looking out for the people around him. You knew exactly what people were referring to when they called him sunshine.
He placed his chin on top of your head and closed his eyes. He basked in the warmth of your presence. He spent all day counting down the minutes until he could be back with you and now here you were. The two of you made it through another day safe and sound and found each other in the other’s arms.
After a few more seconds, you pulled away. Felix’s mouth opened in a yawn and he shoved a hand over his mouth. He murmured an apology and rubbed his eyes. He had waited all day to see you and he didn’t want to miss a second of it. He hadn’t seen you since the previous night.
“Come on, let’s go lay down.” You slipped your hand into his and tugged him to the bedroom. “You’ll feel a lot better after you’ve had a decent night of sleep.” He stumbled after you and let you lead him down the hall.
Once you reached the bedroom, you pulled him inside and shut the door behind you. He wasted no time pulling the covers back, but before he could climb into the bed, you stopped him. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he looked at you.
You smiled to yourself and disappeared into the bathroom. You came back with makeup remover wipes. Your movements were soft and delicate. You made sure to remove the foundation between the creases of his nostrils. With light pressure, you pressed against his closed lids to remove the eye shadow.
He had been in makeup for hours filming a video for their YouTube channel. Your movements caused him to let out a soft sigh. When you finished, he crawled into the bed. You threw away the makeup wipes, washed your hands, and crept into the bed beside him.
His eyes were closed and you figured he was asleep until a mumbled “thank you” filled the air. You moved closer because you knew he liked the skin-ship. Within seconds, his face was tucked into the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you and clung to you.
There was nothing he loved more than being with you. To be encapsulated with your scent; sweet as sugar, just like you. Your bodies fit together perfectly. Felix always joked that you had been made specifically for him. Handcrafted by a god and hand delivered personally.
The two of you met each other at a bakery. Felix was a sucker for sweets and you were picking up a friend’s birthday cake. You were in a rush and nearly took the poor man out in your hurry. You apologized and hurried out of the bakery.
You were in such a rush that you had forgotten your wallet on the counter. When Felix realized, he grabbed it and hurried after you, but by the time he got outside, you had already disappeared. He thought he’d never see you again until he started going through your wallet to try and find information about your identification.
He found your address on your ID. The next day, he showed up at your house. You were alarmed at the sight of him. How had the man from the bakery found your house? He reassured you he wasn’t a creep, he just wanted to return your wallet.
He stood by while you checked to make sure everything was still in it. You hadn’t realized you left it behind. Too scatterbrained due to the last minute event, it left your mind. On a whim, you invited him inside for a drink. It was the least you could do to reward him for returning the wallet. You called it an embarrassing mistake, but Felix reassured you it was fate.
One of your hands ran through his silky blonde hair. Twirling the strands around your fingers and letting it dance in your touch. Sleep washed over Felix quickly and you were left alone while he entered dreamland. You weren’t the greatest when it came to skin-ship, but Felix adored it and nothing made you happier than seeing him smile.
After a while, you untangled yourself from his limbs. You replaced your body in Felix’s arms with your pillow. Sure it wasn’t you, but he’d still cling to it mid-sleep. He slept peacefully as long as he was wrapped around someone or something.
You rethought the words he spoke earlier about wanting to thank everyone for working hard. Felix always loved to show his gratitude rather through his actions, his words, or gifts. Grabbing the brass knob, you slowly turned it and slipped out the door. Walking out into the kitchen in your t-shirt, shorts, and fuzzy socks, you searched through the cupboards. You didn’t have enough ingredients, but you could get them delivered via door-dash.
In less than an hour, you had more ingredients than you possibly needed. Maybe you were going a bit overboard, but you didn’t care. You’d do anything to make Felix happy and if it meant sacrificing one night of sleep, so be it.
You pulled out a mixing bowl, all of your ingredients, and pre-heated the oven. Grabbing a black apron from the hook in the kitchen, you slipped it over your head. With a final act of hand-washing, you were finally ready to begin.
In the early hours of the morning, Felix’s eyes opened. He was painfully aware that the warmth of your body wasn’t beside him. The bed was empty and you were missing. He yawned and his arms stretched above his head.
With a glance over at his alarm clock, he realized he slept for hours. For the first time in days, he felt prepared to take on the day. He slipped out beneath the covers. The cool morning air brushed against his bare arms. He shoved a hand through his hair to push it away from his forehead.
He walked out of the room and into the hall. The faint smell of chocolate filled the air. He raised an eyebrow and padded towards the kitchen. It was a little after six in the morning. What could you possibly do with chocolate at this hour?
The closer he got to the kitchen, the louder the soft humming was. He rounded the corner and froze in his place. His eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. He rubbed his eyes with his fists wondering if he was still dreaming.
“Baby?”
His deep morning voice caused you to turn from the stack of dirty dishes. You smiled at him, “good morning.”
“What is all of this?” His eyes scanned the counter-tops. You had wrapped them in tinfoil and placed cookie after cookie on them.
You spent all night mixing, shaping, and baking different cookies. Scooping them onto the foil lined counters and repeating. Chocolate chip, snicker-doodle, oatmeal raisin. Cookies that were bright pink, made from strawberry box cake mix, and contained white chocolate chips. Cookies from chocolate box cake mix that contained chocolate peppermint pieces.
“Uh…cookies?”
“Did you make these while I was sleeping?”
“Yeah,” you turned back around to continue on your large stack of dishes.
“Babe, there’s gotta be like hundreds of cookies here.”
“It’s only maybe five-hundred. I lost count at some point. I got to about four-hundred and seventy-three and I got sidetracked because I had to take another sheet out of the oven. Do you want one? You can have one.”
Felix picked up one of the light pink cookies. “What is this?” He inspected it before taking a bite of it. His eyes lit up with joy. “Oh, wow. Strawberry?” You glanced over at him and nodded.
“Why did you make all of these?”
“Honestly, I was having a bit of a rough night.” It wasn’t a lie. You had been having a hard night. Swarmed by anxious thoughts about the future and haunted by past mistakes. “So I threw my stress into my baking like you do sometimes.”
“It’s a very good stress reliever.”
“It is and you said you wanted a way to thank everyone for their hard work. I’m not sure how many employees work at your company, so I hope it’s enough. If there’s not enough, I can make more. I would have asked you to help, but you’ve been so busy and you need your rest.”
Felix’s face softened and tears welled up in his eyes. When you didn’t hear a response, you dried your hands on a towel and turned around to face him. Thinking you did something wrong, your face fell. “What? What did I do? Did I make too many?”
Felix quickly shook his head. “Not at all, but you didn’t have to do this.”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. You’ve been working hard and so has your staff and the guys. I made multiple kinds, so I hope there’s something everyone likes. I was going to make peanut butter, but then I realized someone might have a nut allergy. Plus, the chocolate chip cookies are gluten free.”
Felix’s bottom lip quivered. He walked toward you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. His face upturned into a smile as he squeezed you. You laughed while he rocked you back and forth.
“Thank you, baby. Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“I’m sure I’ve heard it a few times.”
“Well, I love you so much. You’re really special to me, you know that? This was such a cute gesture, I love it. The guys and the staff are going to love them! I can’t wait to tell them you made them. Do you want to come in early with me and help pass them out?”
“I should shower first. I have batter in my hair and flour on my shirt. I got so messy that the apron did very little to stop my disasters.” You pulled away after returning his hug. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Felix watched you leave and glanced back at the cookies. He took another bite of the cookie in his hand. The sweetness of the artificial strawberry and the vanilla buttery flavor of the white chocolate combined together and exploded on his tongue.
He laughed to himself and shook his head. His eyes scanned the cookies once more before he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He typed in his password and changed your contact to cookie monster.
He had never loved anyone more than he loved you.
#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#lee felix#stray kids felix#felix x reader#stray kids drabbles#stray kids fluff#kpop fanfic#fanfic writing#fanficwriter#stay#felix#skz felix
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Lotus Rib Soup — Domestic Genshin Hcs ⸝⸝
— [warnings]. as always , not proofread and also written by sleep deprived me at 7am
— synopsis . . . some simple fluffy domestic headcanons
— characters . . . ayato , ayaka , zhongli , ningguang , xiao
— notes . . . these are just general domestic things i can imagine them doing :) not necessarily after marriage (but u can ofc interpret that they r!)
K. AYATO
— now if you thought he was clingy and overbearing before, be prepared for that to TRIPLE once you start living together
— you tell him constantly to ‘not go overboard’, but this is the head of the yashiro commission we’re talking about so of course he won’t listen
— he S P O I L S YOU , you simply gazed at some pretty jewellery on your walk today ? it’ll be sitting on your vanity desk the next morning, said you were craving some food ? he’s having it prepared right away
— now this man is a classic and dare i say traditional romantic, so you will get the sappy ‘breakfast in bed with a kiss on the forehead’ treatment every morning before he heads off to his duties
— every single day no matter how busy he is, he will give you a bouquet of flowers accompanied with some kisses, because hey who doesn’t enjoy some flowers (me, i have hayfever)
— before you he just let thoma clean up around the place, but now with you it feels rather intimate to him to complete some chores together , it just makes him happy
— overall 20/10 , wife husband material !!!
K. AYAKA
-- another one that completely spoils you rotten, but in a much more subtle way (at least she hopes because if she comes off as clingy she’ll probably hide herself from you until the next century)
— one thing she will absolutely never get tired of is hand holding , to the majority something like handholding is just a normal custom to any sort of relationship
— BUT !! to ayaka , it’s something that she finds to be a form of comfort, it makes her feel so much more comfortable and safe knowing that you won’t be leaving her any time soon
— what she loves even more than that is kisses, the passionate and chaste ones are always lovely and welcome however the ones she really prefers are the ones where you’re both laughing over something stupid - it makes everything seem so much more real to her
— she literally loves the random moments where you just twirl her around, it could be simply to give her a greeting or even a hug , but for some reason it makes her heart flutter
— your anniversaries would be so nicely organised and beautifully done , she’d probably plan months in advance because she just wants you to know that she loves you much more than she can show
— ayaka is very prone to loneliness, and having someone with her who she’s able to cherish and be so close with makes every hardship she faces worth it, every day when she’s done with her duties or even while she’s still performing them, she’s dreaming of being there with you
ZHONGLI
— this old ass man istg (affectionate)
— he will pester you SO much about your physical and mental well-being , always telling you, “ai ren, you’ll strain your eyes if you keep looking at those papers in the dark, come to bed,” OR ,”darling, i’m not sure venting your frustrations on some hilichurls will solve your problems, but im always free to listen.”
— now that he’s trying to live out his ‘mortal life’, he’ll definitely start appreciating and noticing minor details about you; whether that be your mannerisms, your tonal shifts, to your laugh or even your posture
— since he’s still technically an archon he just sorta ditched his job because he couldn’t be asked, he doesn’t necessarily need sleep BUT he absolutely adores the nightly routine you two have (once he finally coaxes you into going to bed that is)
— cooking is most certainly one of his favourite activities to do with you, not only is it enjoyable he gets to see you dance around the kitchen trying to find utensils and ingredients - honestly just looking at you doing anything makes him have the most love stricken expression on his face.
NINGGUANG
— now if you thought the kamisato siblings spoiled you, the tianqian takes that to the extreme
— if your gaze even lingers on an object for a second ningguang will have it in your possession in the next minute or so , ‘anything my dearest wants they’ll get’ that’s basically her motto
— she literally creates a room just for you in the jade chamber that she allowed you to decorate however you wished (most of the jade chamber has your touches added to it anyway)
— early mornings with ningguang don’t last long but they’ll always leave an impact on you both for the rest of the day , you’ll wake up with limbs tangled together and with your bodies pressed closed together, ningguang will give you special morning kisses to help boost your energy for the day but it honestly makes you just yearn for her more and distracts you
— she’s a rich and powerful chinese auntie ok, and she absolutely adores little kids she wants nothing more but for them to be happy and healthy - so when she sees you with kids her heart just simply explodes (crystallises? lol)
— “how can just a singular person be so precious and adorable … rex lapis thank you.”
— will ask about your thoughts on starting and raising a family, nothing too major of course maybe just one or two kids. anything you’re up for, she’s more than willing !
XIAO
— he’s been through way too much (especially after that new quest..) and being able to come to you and safely say “i’m home” genuinely makes him feel so loved and happy for once
— one thing he really enjoys while staying at home with you, is being cared for. you always reassure him that it’s just what he deserves, and your not doing any of this out of pity but out of love, and he absolutely knows that and cherishes that fact.
— wether it be back massages to relieve stress, cute little at home dates, intriguing conversations at three am as neither of you can fall asleep - xiao holds it all dear in his heart
— xiao doesn’t really have much of a morning ? i mean he doesn’t sleep and if you try to coerce him you’ll get turned down with the “i’m not mortal, i’ll be fine.” - but as soon as he says that line you respond back with the “but i’ll be so lonely without you” and he is dragging you to bed with you
— when you finally wake up together it’s the prettiest sight anyone could bear the witness of seeing, both of your bodies entangled together with xiao’s arms strongly hugging your waist in attempt to close the non existent gap between you
— he insists that this is all “useless” and that he’s waiting precious hours of the day, but with the loving way his eyes gaze at you ever morning and the way he tucks locks of your hair away from your face to look at you - it’s impossible to believe him
— your nighttimes are usually just spent with you coddling him and perhaps singing or humming a sweet melody to him
— kids are out of the question with him btw , buuutttt maybe if you begged enough times-
©IHEARTGANYU do not copy, steal or repost <3
#i have a couple of work ideas that are just tied to the mxtx novels#what can i say i’m a xie lian worshipper#yes i have a problem 🤧#genshin x reader#genshin x gnreader#genshin#genshin x gn!reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#ayato x reader#ayaka x reader#ningguang x reader
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Hiiii! Can I request Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang, and Jason Grace with a possessed reader headcannons 👀
Possessed Reader
((I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you enjoy!))
Frank Zhang
-He knows it’s not you in there. He knows it deep in his gut, but his heart was aching seeing you tied to a chair.
-He volunteered to watch over you while the others were getting Piper. They needed to use her charmspeak to get the Eidolon out of you for good. But it seems the Eidolon saw the weakness in his eyes, the anger and hate falls from your face morphing to confusion.
-”F-Frank? What’s going on…?” You call to him, voice shaking. Frank has to sit down in the chair across from you, smoothing his hair back. It wasn’t you, it was a trick. He tries to control himself by taking a shaky breath.
-”You were possessed. We’re waiting on Piper to charmspeak you out of it.” Frank says trying his best to keep his voice neutral but seeing the pain in your eyes made it hard.
-”My wrists hurt… C-Can you loosen the rope a little at least?” you plead with him a few tears in your eyes. Frank takes a shaky breath making his way over to adjust the rope. There’s no way he could let you be hurt even if you were possessed…
-”Stop!” You snap your head angrily to the voice and see none other than Piper there catching her breath. Frank stops too, making you curse in frustration something you would have never done as you try to get free, struggling against the restraints. You were so close! So close!
-After the charmspeaking session your mind was foggy, at least you were back in control… You see Frank holding your hand, his eyes filled with utter worry and concern but seeing it was you he sighs in relief and hugs you close, nearly crushing you in a bear hug. You laugh as much as you could while being crushed patting his shoulder as that’s as far as your arm could reach “I’m alright big guy… I’m ok…”
Hazel Levesque
-She was familiar with ghosts. She knew them well, she was one at one point in her life after all. But she never, ever wanted to see those glossed over dead eyes on you. It didn’t help that you were staring into her soul.
-She takes a shaky breath, gently taking your hand. “It’ll be alright… Piper will be here any minute.” She tries to soothe you, well also herself but she didn’t need that to be known. You don’t even blink as you stare.
-”You don’t deserve this. Hazel Levesque you have already died. Why do you deserve a second chance at life when I don’t.” you say coldly to her. You feel your heart squeeze. What were you saying? You didn’t feel that way…
-It only hurts worse when you watch her flinch, looking away from your eyes. “I know.” she says softly but she still doesn’t let go of your hand. Your heart aches at that and you want nothing more than to take those words back.
-”I know I don’t deserve this second chance, but I have it… So… So I’m going to use every second I have of it… No regrets.” she says with a small smile and looks at you with kindness in her eyes. “Here…”
-She takes out a Reese's peanut butter cup from her pocket “Piper will be here any second… So you don’t have much time now, enjoy what you can until you’re forced to leave.” your heart warms at her words. Even though this ghost, this shade was possessing you and said such cruel things she was still kind. And sure enough you feel yourself eat the offered candy. “It’s good…” you say softly, feeling the tears fall down your face.
Jason Grace
-He was a leader. He had to be strong, smart and critical. There was no room for mistakes. But that led him here, with you tied up in a chair across from him.
-He had called for the others to get piper but someone had to stay and watch over you. So he volunteered. It was deathly silent as the two of you stared at each other. The silence was cold, unnatural even. Normally you’re there cracking jokes and making him smile.
-”you’re going to fail.” you say simply and grin at him. “You’ll never be the hero people expect you to be.” you taunt him, feeling guilt creep in your heart as you can only watch. You’d never say these cruel things to him.
-”I may not be the hero people expect me to be… But… I’ll be the hero I want to be.” he says and looks right into your eyes determination clear on his face as he smiles softly.
-”Someone very important taught me that.” you feel your heart melt and it’s as if he was looking right at you.
-Piper comes in with that, Jason taking your hand while she goes through with the charmspeak. He gently rubs small but soothing circles on your hand. You look over at him with a sleepy daze and a soft smile. His face melts in relief as he smooths some hair behind your ear. “Welcome home.”
~Masterlist & Rules~
Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕
#pjo x reader#pjo#hoo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader angst#pjo angst#hoo x reader#jason grace x reader#fluff and angst#angst with a happy ending#slight angst#hazel levesque x reader#frank zhang x reader
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No Goodbyes
Goodbyes happen. But sometimes when they do they can become something so much better. You didn’t think that hiding from Daniel would cause this, but with his hand in yours and people trusting and believing in both of you, this is going to become something more than a final race week. Part two of Not Yet Goodbye.
AN: I still can’t fully believe the reaction to Not Yet Goodbye, I’m in absolute shock at how wonderful you all are. Thank you for the support and kindness.
Warnings: McLaren folks, Christian Horner (but being nice?). This is mainly fluff tbh.
—
As soon as the fact that Daniel Ricciardo was holding your hand got through to the garage, things got awkward to put it mildly. There was joking around, but as soon as they could get Daniel away for his final debriefing you were pulled into a meeting. That first meeting with Andreas was almost painful. The team principal had rushed you into his office, Zak following close behind. The two men looked at you in surprise as you held their gazes evenly.
“How long as this been going on?” The CEO asked you. You checked your watch and did some mental maths.
“Around twenty two hours, officially. I didn’t hide anything from anyone and after tonight Daniel no longer works for McLaren Racing. I didn’t need to report anything. You stayed calm despite the heartbeat thundering in your ears.
“If there was anything going on, anything you didn’t want…” the words hung in the air as the implication hit you like a ton of bricks. You shook your head fervently in denial.
“Daniel and I made a mutual decision. I wasn’t forced into anything. I spent last night having dinner with his family.” A deep breath centred you before you continued speaking. “While I appreciate that you’re looking out for me because of a potential power imbalance, it couldn’t be further from the truth. There was no coercion or anything inappropriate. Nothing happened between us until last night because we’re both aware of our jobs and what we do, but thank you. Now it’s the end of the season and my boyfriend is waiting for me so we can go for dinner with his family to celebrate that he was in the points today. Do we still have two weeks off before planning for next year starts?”
Your final question was directed to Zak who nodded in response. “It’s Thanksgiving at home next week, I won’t be in the UK until the first full week of December.”
“Perfect. I’ll be working remotely until then. I need to clear my head from the season, you can reach me by email.”
You held yourself together as you left the room, trying not to shake with frustration as you made your way back to the table you’d nabbed for yourself in hospitality. Normally you’d have never spoken like that to either of them. But this was different. You’d been in the room and watched the awkward moments as Danny had lost some of his sparkle because of everything that had happened. You’d been at the MTC when he made that speech. There was a large group of you who didn’t agree with how things had happened and you’d always been in that group. Yes this relationship was new but your loyalty was always going to be to your boyfriend. Jobs came and went but men like Danny didn’t.
It took all of two minutes to pack your tablet and laptop into the grey and papaya bag when your phone buzzed with a text. Holding your breath you opened it.
That was inappropriate. Once the cargo is gone take the time off, you deserve it.
Thank you.
You couldn’t reply with anything more than that, your frustration was still too high and you didn’t want to snap at him.
“Are you leaving?” You looked over at Danny’s sister, Michelle, standing there with her kids. You smiled at the slightly shy children who waved nervously and nodded your head.
“Finishing packing. I don’t need to be here for the tear down so I like to leave pretty soon after.”
“You’re coming for dinner, right? We’re getting pizzas delivered to his suite. None of us want to go out, it’ll be all family.”
“That sounds really good.”
It was quiet between you while you zipped up your branded bag. Your routine stayed the same, triple checking the pass around your neck was firmly in place and you had everything. Michelle walked out with you, the kids holding her hands before grabbing one of yours too.
“He really likes you, y’know. I was telling him for months to man up and ask you out. But then the break happened and…” she trailed off and it was clear what she thought of everything that had happened with her brother’s career.
“I wouldn’t let him say goodbye.” Michelle looked at you as you spoke, but you kept walking and looking straight ahead. “Yesterday. He was saying goodbye to everyone except Lando and the mechanics, but I kept hiding because I didn’t want to say goodbye. So I get it. And I’ve no intention of hurting him.”
She relaxed as you both swiped out and you helped the kids to do it.
“I’m glad. Want a ride to the hotel?”
You ended up in the back of the rented SUV, jammed between two child seats as the kids settled down. There was casual conversation between you, Michelle, and her husband as he drove back and you felt calm. The season was over. You could relax for a little while. Tonight was about dinner and chatting and later on working out when you and Dan could spend time together that wasn’t just filled with work related things. And getting the details on what he’d be doing next year. Milton Keynes wasn’t as far away from Woking as it could have been. Plus he’d be at races so that made things easier to plan. But this was oh so right and you wanted it.
After a shower to wash away the desert heat and sweat and changing into comfy clothes there was a knock on your bedroom door. Dan stood there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a wide smile on his face.
“Long time no see,” you murmured as you reached up to kiss him in hello. Once you separated he came into the room and put the arrangement on the desk before pulling you in for a proper hug.
“Missed you.”
“It’s been two hours.”
“I still missed you.” He pouted at his words and you kissed it away before filling him in on Zak and Andreas’ words. Anger started to fill his face but he took a breath and squeezed your hand.
“Do people really think that I’m forcing you? Seriously?”
“No. And we both know that this is completely consensual. Anyone with eyes knows that. But we also know that until after the last race there was that power imbalance. They were right to check in, just not the way they did it.” He calmed at your words, pulling you close and kissing the top of your forehead.
“I’m going to Red Bull tomorrow to sign my contract and flying back to Monaco the day after. Will you come with me? I know you can’t be in any of the photos or anything but I want you to be there. Mum and Dad will be.”
You took a deep breath. It’d be more than just your secret or even your colleagues in McLaren knowing then. It’d be known immediately around the paddock and as soon as you arrived in Bahrain for the first race next year everyone would know you were Danny’s girlfriend. But you wanted it. You wanted to be there to support him in whatever way you could.
“Is signing this the best thing for you to do?” It was a simple question and he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap.
“I’m not ok right now. I…I’m burnt out. I’m miserable. Driving these cars isn’t fun anymore, I’m half afraid when I do it. It’s become something I’ve started to dread and if I don’t have full confidence I can’t do it. They’re giving me sim time to help with racing lines, a chance to help develop the car for next year and beyond, and I can be at whatever races I want. Plus it’s Christian. Even when I was leaving and he didn’t want me to go he supported me. He always has. It’s nowhere near a guaranteed seat but it’s a chance to try love the sport again with people who believe in me and want me to succeed.” He looked like he was about to say more but you cut in.
“Then I would be honoured to be there to watch my boyfriend sign his contract. You deserve the world, Danny. You deserve everyone to know that you’re a good driver, that you’re successful and easily able to battle anyone on the track. I want to see that happen.”
The kiss you shared with him was filled with meaning and hope. Even after your lips separated you stayed with your arms wrapped around each other.
“I should have kissed you last year. I nearly did at Monza. Remember the after party?”
You never could have forgotten it, delaying your flight to stay and celebrate the 1-2 finish. You’d been standing at the bar ordering a drink when Daniel appeared beside you and handed over his card to pay for your drink instead. When you’d thanked him he just grinned and pulled you in for a hug to cement the friendship you already had. It made you think that anything romantic could never happen.
“I’d have kissed you back.”
“We were fools.”
Dinner that night was bright and happy, the knowledge that the contract was being signed tomorrow and Daniel was happy helping everyone. He’d been invited to Seb’s goodbye party and had stuck around for a few minutes before leaving. It was Seb’s night, he didn’t want to bring the mood down and instead said he wanted to spend the night with his family. The walk from your room to his suite was about a minute, everyone standing there and greeting you both with hugs and kisses on your cheek. Michael shook his head at the way Danny wouldn’t keep his hands off you, making you smile shyly at the knowledge.
Once the pizzas arrived they were opened and spread over the table, people handing slices through as wine was poured. The kids had juice and were clinking glasses with everyone between each sip. When they chose you to clink with you couldn’t help the grin spreading over your face. Dan’s arm was around your shoulder as you all sat at the table. It was a nearly perfect night.
People started slipping away as the night went on. Hugs goodbye were given and you were surprised to be included in them. Finally it was just you and Dan left in the room and he pulled you to them, arms holding you close.
“Stay the night?” You smiled up at him and reached for a kiss, sealing exactly where you were staying.
When you woke up in his arms you were pleasantly sore with a warm hand rubbing a circle into your hip.
“Good morning,” you murmured as you turned over to see him there.
“Morning.”
Getting ready would have been a lot quicker if he hadn’t dragged you into the shower with him, heated kisses between the two of you making it take much longer in the warm water than you truly needed. Once Dan was dressed he went down to your room for clean clothes, returning with a navy shirt and jeans. You raised an eyebrow.
“Look, there’s no logos. But you can’t wear orange today.” Your laughter pealed through the room before grabby fingers ticked you. You made him stop so the two of you could meet his parents and get there on time.
The Red Bull motorhome had always been somewhere you’d wanted to visit and learn from. Their set up was effortless and when you had a few minutes you enjoyed watching how they worked together, wanting to see if you could steal some of their efficiency for McLaren. Today though there was no paddock passes and turnstiles, just you and Danny arriving hand in hand with Grace and Joe behind the two of you. His fingers fit perfectly between yours as you walked beside him. There were looks from your team breaking down the McLaren motorhome but you just smiled and continued on to the far end of the paddock. Once you reached Red Bull Daniel looked down at you.
“Ready?” He asked and you squeezed his fingers.
“As long as you’re ready.”
It was mostly boring while you watched him sign away what felt like his life with multiple signatures. You stood at the back of the conference room with Grace and Joe while mostly Daniel and Christian spoke and you felt completely out of place. Finally it was done, the two men standing up and shaking hands before pulling each other into a hug. Christian greeted Grace and Joe but Daniel reached over to take your hand and pull you forward.
“Christian, you know my girlfriend from the paddock, right? She does the McLaren setup and travel planning. Meet Christian Horner. He’s nicer than he seems to most people, I swear.” You smiled and held your hand out, Dan holding onto your waist.
“It’s nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself and Christian shook your hand.
“I’m well aware of who you are. You turned down Ferrari last year, didn’t you?” Your cheeks heated at his words. The job offer they’d given you had been kept hush hush, but it would have been highly paid. You didn’t want to leave McLaren at the time so you turned it down. You didn’t think that anyone except you and Binotto even know that there was a firm offer on the table.
“I did. I wanted to stick where I was.”
“And if I offered you a job here?”
You took a beat but shook your head. “I’d appreciate it, but my answer is still no. I want my reputation to stand on its own. I don’t want people thinking I’m just following my boyfriend around the paddock to his new team. Ask me in another year and I might consider it.”
Horner laughed, clapping your shoulder. “I should have guessed that would be your answer. Binotto still wants you there, so I’d prepare for that job offer if things settle down in Maranello. Now we’ve got photos to do outside. Not that I want to face the sun after last night, Sebastian got the Jaegermeister out and it was a mistake.”
There were photographers snapping as the two went outside, Grace and Joe slightly behind and you following at a distance. Danny slid the navy polo shirt on and you had to admit it really did suit him. They sat at a table and signed the last page before taking questions and filming content. It was so clear to you just how happy this made your boyfriend. He was relaxed and grinning, smiling and joking even when Christian grabbed his chest. You laughed at the scene, taking your own photos of them. Once it was done Daniel came back to you with his fingers grabbing yours and holding tightly.
“Do you want lunch?” Christian asked, Daniel shaking his head.
“I can’t be here when afternoon practice starts. I need to get a clean break, and I’m back in Monaco tomorrow. I’m in Milton Keynes in two weeks?”
“We want you at the parade. Will you both be there?” The second part was aimed at you.
“I won’t be,” you replied. “I still have my own job to do, so I’ll be supporting at a distance and outside of work.”
“We’ll see you around.”
The drivers were starting to come in for the practices, Lando hugging the two of you briefly and Oscar looking nervous to see you there. Daniel squeezed your hand before going to speak to him for a moment, the two separating looking brighter. It was nods to everyone else you saw before getting in the car and Dan leaning his head back.
“I’m going to Monaco in the morning, do you want to come with me? I want to spend time with you away from the tracks. Eat food, spend time together, get our shit together. What do you think?”
You grinned at him, leaning over to nuzzle your head to his chest.
“That sounds like one of the best ideas you’ve ever had. I want to spend time with you and get to know you properly, Daniel Ricciardo. Plus, I think I’ve made friends with your family.”
“I think they’d pick you over me.”
It was a lie, but a sweet one. You smiled and agreed, pulling up your travel app and cancelling the flight to London. You could book the Nice flight later on that evening. The afternoon ahead beckoned with laying out at the pool to enjoy the October sun, jumping in and splashing the family that had quickly welcomed you as a member. Dinner that night was another family dinner in the restaurant but out in the main area rather than a private room. Anyone could see all of you together but you weren’t worried. The almost out of clean clothes situation did worry you slightly, but it was manageable as you pulled an outfit together. Dan had done some magic to move your belongings to his hotel room, your toiletries mingling with his in the bathroom. The way they just fit together didn’t go unnoticed.
“How come you didn’t take the Ferrari job?”
Dan had just finished clasping your necklace when he asked, pressing a kiss to where the chain hit your neck.
“I didn’t want it.” You turned around and looked up at him, a small smile on your lips. “Carlos put my name in for it when it came up. He told Binotto that I’d be perfect for it and Binotto agreed. I didn’t even need to interview. But I told you, I’m awful at goodbyes.”
“You stayed because of me?” You’d have been lying if you said he wasn’t part of your decision, the friendship you’d shared meant so much.
“Not just you. But I was loyal to McLaren. Now though I’m loyal to you.”
Photos from the dinner ended up online, shared on instagram and TikTok. You really liked one of them that had you and Dan with a child on each of your laps. It was taken from far enough away that nobody’s face was truly visible so you took that opportunity to lock down your instagram account before anybody could work out it was definitely you. Even though you’d appeared on his photography account in a work context you wanted to keep what little privacy you could for a while.
It lasted all the way on the hour or so drive to Dubai International for the direct flight to Nice. While not as busy as Abu Dhabi would have been the airport was still filled with people who’d been in the UAE for the race. Thanks to your lack of non work clothes Dan had given you one of his tees to wear - laughing at how it was essentially a dress - and you were clearly together as he checked you both in and whisked you into the lounge after saying goodbye to his family. People stopped and stared at him but only a few asked for photos which let you relax a little. It was a little bit scary and definitely unusual, and you didn’t know quite what this relationship would involve but you were determined. This wasn’t going to end in a goodbye, even with the what could be of next season.
Just before you boarded both of your phones dinged, Lando creating a group chat with you. You opened it up to a link to an instagram post putting the dinner photos together with the times you’d been caught on camera and the one and only time Ted Kravitz had spoken to you, naming you as Dan’s girlfriend.
Just saw this, thought you should know. For the record you look adorable.
Dan squeezed your hand before the two of you handed over your passports to the gate agent, holding on as you walked down the jet bridge. Once you were settled into the plush first class seat - and you’d have a conversation with him about paying for it later - you looked at him, catching his gaze. He seemed slightly worried but you smiled.
“Fuck ‘em all?” You asked, his eyes lighting up at the familiar words.
“Fuck ‘em all. We know what we’ve got.”
Dan took your hand as you listened to the pre flight information. You took a photo of the hands linked, Dan’s rose tattoo showing clearly. You sent it to him, watching as he smiled and picked up exactly what you were thinking. Less than a minute later he nudged you to open instagram. When you opened the app his latest post was the first on your feed. The caption made you grin.
Honey Badger’s being tamed. FEA, babe.
You kept the smile on your face as you sat back and put your feet up, waiting for the six hour flight to begin. Whatever the media wanted to throw at the two of you could suck it. This was the best non goodbye you could ever receive.
Tagging: @vroomvroommbtch
#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x y/n#daniel ricciardo x you#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#daniel ricciardo one shot#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo imagine
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» 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 *:･ﾟ✧
» 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kageyama tobio x reader | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1,7k | hq masterlist
» 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you crashed at tobio’s place in italy on a vacation, he was contempt to sleep on the couch. but you, on the other hand, was having none of that.
» 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): fluff, slight angst i guess, sharing a bed, best friends younger brother, suggestive content, a lot of feelings bc i’m emotional, rushed ending (sorry), no editing we die like neji. lmk if i missed something.
the first time kageyama got you in his bed, he could have sworn he might actually die. it didn’t mean anything. two people can sleep next to each other, without it meaning anything. right? right. that’s what you’d said when you told him it was fine, sharing the bed. he really hadn’t meant for it to happen. he’d been contempt with taking the couch while you were here, visiting him in Italy. that’s what he’d planned to do all along when you’d asked if you could stay with him for a while, on vacation.
you, on the other hand, weren’t having it. the first night, he’d been rigid. impossible to convince when you said you’d take the couch. and so he took the couch. the next night, you’d tried again, with the same result. and then the third. but on the fourth night, you decided to try a different tactic.
“i’m not asking you to switch places with me tonight,” you’d said. you looked at him with a look that he couldn’t quite place.
“no?” he questioned instead, deciding instead to just be relieved that you’d finally given up. it wasn’t that he particularly enjoyed sleeping on his couch. but the sole implication that he might even consider leaving you to sleep on the couch while he took the bed? you of all people? that was simply not going to happen. ever. he’d much rather lie on his couch every single night with nothing but his own thoughts and longings, knowing you were just beyond the wall, soundly sleeping between his sheets, than let you be uncomfortable for his benefit.
“nope,” you agreed lightly. tobio was relieved but then you spoke again and the air was all but knocked from his lungs. “you’re clearly not going to agree, so let’s share the bed instead.”
“what?” he asked, breathless. as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. he mustn’t’ve. because he could have sworn you just suggested sharing a bed with him. him. tobio. your friend's brother. her younger brother at that. that couldn’t possibly be true.
“yeah,” you said, as if what you’d suggested was the most normal thing in the entire world. which it wasn’t, by the way. “it’s a double size bed. it’ll fit us both.” so he really did hear you correctly. he blinked once. swallowed. took a breath. trying to steady himself.
“no.”
“yes it will,” you said, and it took a second before tobio understood what you meant. it would fit the both of you. but it wasn’t going to. not gonna happen. it really wasn’t like he’d prefer the bed. it wasn’t like he hadn’t dreamt of sharing a bed with you. as if he hadn’t laid awake for countless hours, imagining you in his arms until it arised an entirely different, very physical problem than just the sleeplessness.
“no, i meant no. we’re not sharing the bed,” he said, clarifying. his voice felt thick. like it may betray him if he didn’t keep it leashed with everything that he had. because honestly. truthfully. he wanted to share the bed with you. he wanted to lie next to you. to smell you all around him. to put an arm around you and hold you close to his chest. he wanted to, but–
“why not?” you asked, eyebrows raised.
“because–” his voice trailed off, needing a moment to steady his voice. to keep his wants in check. to come up with a good enough reason, that didn’t entail him confessing the feelings he’s harbored for you, since before he even had the words to describe what it was. but of course, you picked up on his hesitation and crossed your arms.
“go on,” you prompted. shit.
“what about miwa?” he said in a last ditch effort to save himself, and even as the words crossed his lips, he knew it sounded absurd. what was he even insinuating? he didn’t know. he just knew that he couldn’t risk it. it was dangerous at best and he no matter what he wanted, he couldn’t just take such a chance. he couldn’t. right?
“what about her? she’s not here, tobio,” you said. your gaze searched his face, for what, he didn’t know. but he hoped whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it. he really, really hoped you wouldn’t find it. “it’s not like we’ll be taking her sleeping spot from her,” you said, and tobio almost heaved a relieved sigh. you didn’t seem to notice the potential implication of bringing up his sister to you. her best friend.
“no, i know, but–”
“it’s just sleeping,” you argued, cutting him off. it was a wonder how you managed to do that, considering how soft the words were, when you spoke them. as they settled in the air between you two. and even as tobio felt something clench in his chest, this was the best possible thing you could have said. because at least it reminded him to keep both feet on the ground. reminded him that what you were suggesting were just that. sleeping.
“i know,” he repeated. and he did. he did know. he did. but even then, it would be impossible for him to keep his feelings under wraps when he’d have you so close that he could smell you. touch you if he just reached out. there was simply no way. when even the thought of you in his bed in the next room could do things to him. he didn’t even dare imagine what it would do to him to be right there next to you. then you stepped back, averting your gaze. the hold you had around yourself tightened slightly, and when you spoke, tobio felt his whole world crumble.
“does it really repulse you that much to simply sleep next to me?”
“what? no! no, that’s not it.” tobio stepped forward. hands itching to reach out. to grab you. to hold you. to– but he didn’t. because was scared. scared what would happen. how you’d react if he did. how he would react if he held you close to his chest. how–
“okay. so what's the issue?” you said, voice now hardened into something firmer. and when you looked at him, your eyes matched your tone. he couldn’t be sure if you were mad. or frustrated. or scolding him like a child. probably the latter, he ruefully had to admit. “just give me one good reason and i’ll drop it.”
“i–” he swallowed. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t.
“you don’t have any, am i right?” you asked, when he didn’t continue. he looked at the floor, unable to meet your gaze when you carried on. “i just don’t want you ruining your body and your sleep by staying on the couch because of me. we’re just going to be sleeping. people can sleep next to each other without it having to mean anything. i’m not taking no for an answer this time!”
“okay,” he said. defeated. and honestly, it wasn’t like he wasn’t happy to sleep in his own bed instead of the couch. he was. but he was also scared, even as he finally caved. “okay. i get it. we can share.”
and that was how he ended up in bed with you. his childhood crush. but not just that. the woman he was still very much in love with. his sister’s best friend too. and he was sure, absolutely certain, that this night would be his last. or maybe he’d already had his last and this was some peculiar amalgamation between heaven and hell, designed just for him.
you looked so peaceful while you slept. tobio’s gaze traced the features of your sleeping face. the way your lips parted slightly. your eyelids softly closed. the way your eyelashes fanned out over your cheekbones, and how the crease between your eyebrows smoothed out entirely. it was definitely heaven, that was for sure. but even though you were right there, looking like all of his dreams come true, he couldn’t touch you. couldn’t kiss youz couldn’t breathe you in. couldn’t put his arms around you. worse yet, he couldn’t even think about you. because thinking about you, would bring him nothing but trouble. so torturous hell it was indeed too.
it was safe to say, that tobio would not be getting much sleep that night. he felt fidgety, and his brain kept spinning, and spinning, and spinning, and spinning. more than once did he close his eyes, hoping to drift off, and more than once he found himself watching you with tired, aching eyes. he was tired. so tired. but yet, he couldn’t calm down. for what felt like hours, he just watched you, unnervingly aware of his own breathing. his body. and yours. all to aware of how the bed moved whenever he did, even the slightest of shifting his position. seconds, minutes and hours to tick by painfully slow, but at one point, he closed his eyes and flitted off into a light sleep.
something pressed against tobio’s front. something warm. something that smelled nice. you. his eyes opened wide when he remembered where he was. or rather who was here with him. your back was pressed against him and his arm draped around your middle. you must’ve turned around while he’d slept, and somehow you’d ended up in his arms. you were right there. right there. and you shifted against him, pressing further up against the length of his body. and the length of something else. the sensation all making him suck in a breath, that he quickly tried to disguise out of fear that it would wake you up.he should move. he should let go. shoot back. or maybe even shake you, and allow you do move away from him. but then you nestled even further against him and he couldn’t. he really should. but he couldn’t. not entirely. but he could loosen his grip at the very least. let happen what would happen. if you stayed, you stayed. if you moved, you moved. that was a nice compromise, he convinced himself. but truly, he simply just wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. and so he did. or he tried, but your groggy voice startled him, all attempts at giving you space, clattering to the floor when you spoke.
“don’t let go. it’s nice.” and it was probably safe to say, that even then, this night, despite being both heaven at hell, was undoubtedly the best night of tobio’s entire life.
#kageyama tobio#kageyama tobio x reader#haikyuu#fanfic#kageyama tobio fluff#i still don’t know how to tag my fics anymore so whatever#fuck it we ball#useradrienne
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hiii can u write a fluff where eric and the reader a rewatching their fav movie and while watching the movie eric realizes how much he loves the reader and confesses <3
love story like a movie
eric x reader (request, thank u lovely anon :D)
genre: friends to lovers (my personal favorite), fluff, feelings realization, getting together, kissing, simply romance
notes: imma be honest, i think i got carried away with this request because i simply love it so much, it's such a cute idea im forever thankful!!! i hope you like this, anon!
word count: 0.9k
“i couldn’t find the butter.”
you looked up. eric was standing at the doorway, dressed in a comfy hoodie while holding a bowl of popcorn.
“uh…” you scratched the back of your neck sheepishly, “i forgot to buy more.”
“seriously?” he whined as he plopped onto the bed next to you. he took a bite and eyed you. “the popcorn’s bland now.”
“ay,” you glared. “it’s perfectly fine, don’t be dramatic.”
eric simply stuck his tongue out at you.
“so,” he turned to you with an excited expression. “what movie are we watching this time, dear best friend?”
you brightened and grabbed the TV remote. “i know exactly,” you explained, turning it on. “remember that one movie that we used to always make fun of because of how cheesy the romance was?”
he stared at you clueless for a brief second before his mouth opened into a wide O. “that one? yeah actually, let’s watch it!" he exclaimed, making you flinch from his volume. "it’ll be so fun.”
“going to make jokes about it again?” you teased.
“you know me so well,” he sarcastically replied, nudging you by the shoulder with a wide smile. when you started the show, it became quiet between the two of you.
well, it was quiet until the couple decided to hold hands, intertwining their fingers tightly. you giggled at the scene.
“they’re literally holding hands because they’re on an elevator,” you joked. “that’s so random!"
eric only laughed without a comment. he turned down to glance at his own hands. and for some reason, he wondered how yours would fit against his. he quickly shook his head aggressively, his cheeks feeling hot for some reason.
“oh my god,” you laughed even more. “they’re even hugging! isn’t that a bit much since they literally saw each other the day before?”
eric was quiet this time.
you peeked at him, “eric?”
“hm?” he looked distracted. “oh! y-yeah, yeah.” his eyes were wide as he stared at the screen with mixed feelings. hugging you was a normal occurrence. you two have been friends for years after all. but for some reason… he wanted more. he wanted to cuddle you when days were cold and he wanted to hold you when you were sad.
he mentally slapped himself. i can’t be thinking that, we’re literally just friends.
you quickly noticed the change in his mood and you turned to him, letting the movie play in the background. you leaned your head against his shoulder peering up at him through your eyelashes.
“eric,” you poked his leg. “you okay?”
he took in a sharp breath when he turned to look at you. he had just noticed how close you were. and for a short second, his eyes wandered over to your lips. he wondered at that moment, how they would feel against his own li-
what?
“yes,” he breathed out, oddly breathless. “i’m fine, just a bit tired.”
you frowned, “we can stop if you want.”
“no, no,” he shook his head. “i want to spend time with you.”
“oh,” you simply said. you were surprised at his response and for an odd reason, your heart was thumping too. “okay.”
after a while, the two of you watched the movie in silence. the last time you guys watched this movie, the room was filled with laughter and jokes. now, there was some sort of tension.
you gasped suddenly, grabbing eric’s arm, making him jump. “they’re kissing! how bad can this movie get?”
it was then that eric realized it. after all this time, this platonic relationship that he thought was not platonic at all. eric likes you. he likes you as more than a friend. he thought about the times when you would take care of him when he was sick and how his face would get warm. it wasn’t from the fever. or he thought about the time when you once fell asleep on his shoulder and he never felt more at home.
“i don’t think it’s all that bad,” he blurted out, his cheeks turning red.
you paused the movie in disbelief, “what?”
“i- i mean,” he laughed nervously. “i need to get something off my chest, y/n.”
you were silent.
he took in a deep breath and took your hand in his, playing with your fingers with anxiousness.
“i think i…” he blushed. “i think i like you.”
…
“oh,” you stared at him, tilting your head. “i like you too.”
his hand tightened on yours, “i mean i don’t just like you. i mean that i like you as more than a friend. all those things they do in that movie… i want to do with you and i’m just realizing that.” when he noticed your silence, he panicked. “y-you don’t have to like me back! i just wanted to-”
what he didn’t expect was for you to lean up and press a kiss right on his lips. he immediately froze, his mouth dropping open as he looked at you with utter surprise.
“w-what was that for?” he touched his lips gently as if to test if this was a dream or not.
“i already said it before, but you ignored me,” you pouted. “i said that i like you too.”
the two of you stared at each other for a while before bursting out into laughter. eric’s smile was so, so charming as he looked at you with soft eyes.
“i’m an idiot then,” he muttered.
“you really are,” you glared. “took you a while to realize.”
you pressed play on the movie. and of course, the next scene was of them kissing again.
“should we copy what they’re doing?” you asked, turning to him with a shy smile. “come and kiss me more.”
“of course,” he smirked, leaning in to press more kisses to your lips and cheeks. oh, how he loved this movie. he could kiss you forever now.
#the boyz reactions#the boyz fluff#the boyz imagines#tbz imagines#tbz fluff#eric sohn x reader#eric sohn fluff#drabbles 💞#requests 💞
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