#maybe id add another which is just soft moments though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

Text

Enough for me

Series masterlist

Word count: 1796

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: None (lmk if I need to add any)

Summary: You decide to tell Natasha how serious you are about your relationship and things don’t go exactly as you hoped but it’s still good.

A/n: Thank you to the multiple people who wanted another part in the mini flustered series that I’ve totally made up as I went along. Also I want to clarify that although this could be read as a part four to flustered it honestly isn’t super related so you can definitely read it seperately and it wouldn’t matter to the plot bc there is no plot besides soft nat. Also I don’t know if this one is any good because I didn’t edit as usual but hopefully you all enjoy!

You admire your work as you gaze out over the table you had just finished setting up. It had taken some work dragging a table all the way up to the roof and then having to make multiple trips to bring up all the plates, glasses, cutlery and food, not to mention the other things like candles you had set up. The effort was totally worth it in your opinion though because anything for Natasha was worth it.

You’ve spent a lot of time together since your first date and have gone on a couple more but so far all of your dates have been pretty casual and nobody on the team knows about you so you want to do something special to prove that you’re serious about her. Although looking up at the sky you realize you probably should have chosen another night and you cross your fingers that it doesn’t start to rain until after you’re done.

Your cell phone ringing interrupts you. “Tasha?” You answer it, looking at the caller id as you pick it up.

“Hi Y/n.” She responds. “So why am I supposed to call you?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“You told me to call you at seven so I’m calling.” She says and you slap your hand up to your face because you can’t believe you forget that part of your plan.

“Right sorry, I forgot.” You tell her. “Anyways I need you to put on something nice and come up to the roof.”

“Mysterious, I like it.” She says which makes you smile. “I’ll be up there in five minutes.”

“Okay, see you then!” You respond before hanging up and panicking. You didn’t expect her to be so quick and five minutes really isn’t a lot of time. You still have approximately one hundred candles to light and you’re not sure that you can get it done on time.

You run around, trying to be careful and not burn yourself, and start to light all the candles that were all over the ground surrounding the table and the pathway to the door. Just as you’re finishing lighting the last one and standing up the door to the roof opens and Natasha steps out. She’s gorgeous as always but you especially love this dress on her. It’s black like most things she wears and is tight fitting at the top but slowly gets looser until it flows around her legs. You love it because you can tell she’s dressing to look beautiful and not sexy which she only ever does if she’s letting her guard down (so not very often). You are well aware that your jaw is open and you’re blatantly staring but luckily she’s busy looking around at your setup so you have time to collect yourself.

“Do you like it?” You ask her.

“It’s beautiful.” She breaths in response.

“Not as beautiful as you.” You reply and it’s so cheesy that you nearly regret saying that but there’s a light blush on her face and she’s smiling so you smile back and take a seat at the table, gesturing for her to sit with you.

“So what’s on the menu?” She asks lightly as she sits, still smiling.

“Just some paninis and lentil soup, hopefully it’s still warm.” You tell her.

“Well I’m sure it will be good either way.” She responds before taking a bite and moaning in delight. “It is amazing, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You say. “Now how about you tell me about your day?”

You listen attentively as she complains about paperwork and schedules and as she practically glows as she tells you about a new move she had used to take down Steve in training today. You love listening to her, it makes you happy that she likes talking about mediocre things with you and there’s a level of domesticity to it that makes your heart feel full. You just want to know everything about her, no matter how boring people deem it to be because it’s important to her and therefore it matters a lot to you.

You talk to her for hours comfortably as she continues to share but also asks you questions. There is never a lull in the conversation and you could listen to her voice forever. Eventually though, long after you both finish eating, the conversation dwindles to a comfortable silence. At least for her. You’re inwardly freaking out because you want to tell her exactly how much she means to you and although you think she’ll react well it’s not a guarantee.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, always observant.

You gulp nervously but answer truthfully. “I’m thinking about how I am more serious about you than I’ve ever been about anyone before, even if it’s only been a few weeks.”

“I’m more serious about you than anyone too.” She replies. “But I think you already knew that.”

“I hoped so.” You tell her, continuing on your path since so far she is reacting well. “I was-I was thinking that maybe we could tell the others about us now, or at least stop hiding it and wait until they find out.”

“But I thought you were fine with it just being for us for now?” She asks, a frown tugging at your lips. Your heart sinks at her expression-you never meant to push boundaries that she wasn’t comfortable with yet.

“And I’m still fine with that.” You reassure her quickly. “I just thought it might be nice to tell the others but it’s totally cool if you aren’t okay with it.”

She stands up and starts to pace a little. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Hey, hey.” You stand up too and grab her gently by the arm so she stops and faces you. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do it, I just thought it would be nice so everyone knows how much I love you.”

Instead of calming her down your words only seem to make her more anxious. “You what? You-you love me?” She stutters out.

“Shit I am so sorry Natasha I promised not to rush you.” You immediately apologize, hoping that you didn’t mess things up to badly.

She picks her way through the candles carefully and sits down on the edge of the roof, her feet dangling over. You follow, sitting beside her, making sure you don’t accidentally do anything to further surprise her. She sits quietly, obviously deep in thought and you think as well. You know, or at least you hope, that Natasha won’t break up with you already because of this. You just wanted to give her a special night and the first part of it went great but you just had to push too far. You had promised that she would dictate the terms of the relationship when you had first asked her out but of course you weren’t able to follow through. You just wish that you could hear her thoughts so you could try to fix your mistakes. She stays silent and only speaks up after a few more agonizing minutes.

“I’m sorry-” She starts and you interrupt.

“It’s okay if you’re breaking up with me.” You say and she watches you with a strange look on her face.

“You just told me you love me-I’m not breaking up with you.” She tells you and you sigh in relief. “But I can’t say it back, not yet anyways.”

“That’s completely okay.” You reassure her, slightly disappointed but understanding and just happy she wasn’t breaking up with you.

“I want to but I can’t.” She explains, her face visibly upset, seeing a hint of your disappointment. “It just doesn’t work, I can’t say it, I’m sorry. But if you want to we can tell the team about us.” She turns away when she’s done, biting her lip, afraid of your reaction.

“Tasha. Tasha.” You say, waiting until she turns back to face you to continue. “We won’t do it unless you’re ready and it’s okay that you aren’t. I’m not going to take back my words, I do love you and being able to tell you that and be here with you is enough for me, you don’t need to do anything.”

She pauses a moment and you can’t read her expression so you start to get nervous. Maybe you should have taken back the ‘I love you’ part of your mini speech. Before you can overthink too much she throws herself at your side, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and resting her in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” She mumbles against your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m happy with this because having you is enough for me because I love you.” You tell her, awkwardly un-wedging your arm from between your side and her body and wrapping it around her, rubbing her back in mindless patterns.

She shivers slightly, not from the cold. “Can you say that again?”

“What, I love you?” You ask, confused.

“Yeah.” She says, almost shyly, nodding her head against your neck.

“I love you.” You tell her, kissing the side of her head at an awkward angle. “I love you. I love you so much Tasha.”

You repeat it over and over for a few minutes, feeling as though your heart is going to burst. You no longer care that she can’t say it back because she has her reasons but she wants you to say it and she’s cuddling with you and you never want to let her go because this moment is so perfect.

Unfortunately the weather has other plans and just as your words start to die out the sky open, a few small drops then a complete downpour. The soft glow that once covered the roof from the candles disappears as they go out, releasing smoke. You know you have to clean things up but you figure it can wait until morning, once things are drier, so you take Natasha’s hand and pull her up. She starts to run towards the door, helping you so you don’t step on the candles, giggling the whole way. Technically things hadn’t gone to plan, her not wanting to tell the team or say she loved you and it raining at the end, but those things don’t seem to matter when you see her bright smile, her hair plastered to her face but somehow looking as beautiful as ever. And it matters even less when she pulls you inside and immediately presses you to the door, kissing you hard. You’re more than happy to fulfill her request when she pulls away, asking for you to say it again. Anything to keep her happy and make her feel loved.

---

<<<previous chapter // next chapter>>>

Taglist: @fayhar @stephanieromanoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @acertainredhead @madamevirgo @megaqueenmaeve @cherryblossomskye @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @wandas-vis @mxxnmocha @king-star

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #x reader

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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 3 years

Text

Irresistible Danger - Part 59

Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 4,078

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

*HIATUS WARNING*

This will be my last chapter update until the end of July or very beginning of August, due to me joining Camp Nano. If people are interested, I can link my nano page HERE if you want to see what progress I make. I haven’t created a Camp project goal yet, but I’ll be adding it soon.

Clearing the Board

You stared at Negan in shock for a long moment, your brain’s frantic whirring grinding to a screeching halt as the subconscious watched with mouth so agape that the gum it had been chewing fell unnoticed to the floor.

Had he been thinking the same questions as you the entire dinner? Part of you wanted to bolt, terrified to know what was on his mind. Was this where he pulled the rug out from under you and said things were getting too cozy, that he wanted to back track? Did he want to go back to his wives? Or maybe he wanted to try and make you into another one of them?

Breathe. Just breathe and see what he has to say, before you start hyperventilating.

Clearing your throat and licking suddenly dry lips, you hoarsely said, “Uh...yeah...we do.”

As if this was the permission he was waiting for, he gave a curt nod and started talking. He was so focused and straight to the point that you wondered if he had rehearsed this prior to you showing up. If so, he had done a much better job of preparing than you had.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. Not just for the way I attacked you, though I do fucking apologize for that, but for how I acted after.”

At this, he paused and ran a hand slowly down over his mouth and beard, and you realized how difficult this conversation was for him, how much he still struggled to be open and honest and sincere with another human when he’d had to learn the hard way to be tough and mean and impenetrable. It made you feel validated regarding your own struggles, as well as grateful that both of you were stepping outside your comfort zones and trying to communicate.

“Doll, there’s just some shit that I don’t like to fucking relive. It has to happen, whether I fucking want it to or not, and once it’s done, it’s done. I don’t always want to rehash events, or talk about how I feel, because the answer is probably that I feel like fucking horse shit. It’s nothing personal against you, it’s just me wanting to fucking move on. The same way you told me the other night that I gotta trust you not to always give me all the fucking details? Well, same goes when the shoe’s on the other fucking foot.”

You sat there and took this in, brain having pulled out a tablet to take frantic notes, and subconscious still staring in shock with its foot unknowingly stepping right in the middle of the dropped gum wad. Of all the ways for tonight’s conversation to go, no part of you had expected Negan to not only take the lead, but go in the correct direction needed to pulverize one of the newly-created questions you had thrown into the padlocked box.

Once he said the words out loud, it did make a lot of sense. You had seen it as wanting to connect with him and support him, if he would just explain what had happened on the run to upset him. However, some things might be better left unsaid, so as not to make the person relive the events and the emotions tied to them. What you had seen as him shutting you down was actually him trying to move on from unsavory events (and actions he’d had to complete in his role as leader). Add to that his comparison to your conversation the other night, where you had expected him to be okay with you not giving all details about certain events, and you couldn’t believe how much you had blown his recent actions out of proportion.

You had been quiet for a few long moments, during which he was watching you closely. He tried to make his expression neutral, but the unnatural stillness of his tensed body and the focused intensity of his hazel gaze gave away how much weight he was putting on what your response might be.

Picking your words carefully, you broke the silence. “Thank you for explaining that, because I did wonder why you turned down my offer to talk last night. I respect your right to not tell me everything about what you have to do in order to keep control of the Sanctuary and other communities. However,” you held his gaze, making sure he saw your sincerity. “I want you to know that I’m always here for when and if you do want to talk about it. Any of it.”

He was unresponsive for a few seconds, as if the tables had turned and now he was the one a bit surprised at how calm and clearly you had voiced your agreement. Then, a soft smile broke across his face, and he said, “I know you are, doll.”

You gave a small smile, beyond relieved to have that topic discussed and out of the way. Your brain was proud of the two of you for talking it out, while the subconscious was preoccupied with cursing and hopping around on one foot while frantically trying to use a stick to scrape the smeared gum off the bottom of its shoe. Like it, you now flailed about for how to move on to other concerns. The door of communication had been opened, and you didn’t want him to slam it shut now that the thing he’d wanted to get off his chest was done.

“There’s some other things I think we need to talk about,” you said. When his eyebrows raised in a nonverbal for you to continue, you started nervously fidgeting with your dinner napkin.

Shit, where did you even start? How to accurately say what you were thinking and feeling about this relationship with him. He had obviously noticed you pulling back that day in the woods, and while you had been quick to start blurting your feelings when in a post-orgasmic haze, the words now stuck in your throat and refused to come out.

That ball of self-doubt was creeping in, telling you to shut the box back up and get out of there. It whispered how maybe now that Negan had fucked you, the “game” was almost over and he wouldn’t be as interested. That the moment you started placing expectations on the two of you, he’d tell you to leave his rooms and not come back.

Looking down at the napkin, which was now twisted and crumpled from anxious hands, you tossed it down on the table and abruptly stood up, unable to continue the farce of sitting still. You pushed the chair into the table and stood there for a few seconds before giving a frustrated groan and pacing over to his armoire and back.

It was quite the role reversal, you pacing back and forth while he sat there, silently watching. Your hands gestured wildly in front of you, as if trying to act out what you couldn’t say. You started to talk a few times, but it came out as a sputter of nothingness, causing you to pace back and forth yet again. After a couple rounds of this, you finally stopped behind the dinner chair, hands gripping the back of it until your knuckles turned white. The two of you stared at one another, his forehead furrowed in concern at your mini meltdown.

“Doll,” he said, voice low and calming. “Tell me.”

Just say it. Tell him you’ve fallen for him.

But you couldn’t. The emotions were right there, but it didn’t feel right to just blurt them out. Three little words that some people tossed around like pennies, and you couldn’t say them when it mattered.

You looked at him desperately, willing him to throw a lifeline and take back over the conversation, to tell you to forget it and act like this moment had never happened. Instead, he finally moved into action, standing from his own chair and rounding the small table to stand in front of you.

He didn’t reach out, didn’t try to hold you, as if he knew that the slightest touch would cause your taut as a bowstring form to burst into a million pieces. His hands instead clenched at his sides in a nonverbal show of restraint. He knew that whatever you were struggling with was important, while at the same time realizing he couldn’t force it, and that the direction of the conversation depended entirely on you.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

There was more authority to his tone this time, but it was the slight hint of worry making it go up in pitch at the end that propelled your own voice to finally get its shit together and start working.

“There’s nothing wrong, I just…I don’t know how to say it.”

“Fucking say what? You’re killing me here, doll.”

You looked at him, took in this strong and seemingly impenetrable, yet surprisingly caring and passionate man who had shattered all of the emotional defenses you had strategically built in order to keep yourself safe. And suddenly, you knew exactly how to tell him in a way that he, and only he, would understand.

“Remember when you said that the game is over when the king is captured?”

Surprise flickered in his gaze, as he obviously wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth. However, he quickly caught up, giving a curt nod.

“I know technically the queen is expendable, and the game can continue on without her, but-” voice cracking a bit, you paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “What the hell does one do when the opposite happens?”

You saw the moment the realization hit, making him go completely still. Saw the moment he pieced everything together but still held back, as if afraid maybe he was misinterpreting it.

His face looked wrecked when he husked, “What are you saying, doll?”

Emotion welled in your eyes as you verbally let go, whispering the confession that had been held in for long enough.

“The king’s captured me.”

He broke the physical distance then, his eyes bright with emotion as he wrapped one arm around your waist and cupped your face with a warm palm. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your lips that was so soft and gentle you almost wanted to cry. When he lifted his head, you felt overwhelmed by the adoration in his gaze, but that was nothing compared to the words he then spoke.

“Well doll, I’d say that’s only fucking fair, since the queen’s captured me too.”

Shock coursed through you, followed by a rush of emotion so strong it would’ve knocked you on your ass if he wasn’t there to clutch onto.

He feels the same! Holy fuck, not only did he understand, but he also feels the same!

The two of you kissed again, long and slow, until your surroundings faded away and there was only him. It could’ve been mere moments or long minutes before your lips parted from his, as time currently had no meaning outside the count of his breaths on your face and beat of his heart under your palm flattened on his chest.

You felt dizzyingly happy, and the padlocked box was tons of pounds lighter. However, there were still a few spiky balls of questions sitting in the bottom of it, and it was time to empty them out. All of them.

“So,” you said, fingers tracing up over his exposed collarbone and strong throat. “What happens next, after the king and queen capture each other?”

Giving a much softer version of his usual devilish smirk, he replied, “They lay down their weapons, recall their fucking armies, and rule the board together.”

Grinning like a fool at that, you wound your arms up around his neck and murmured hesitantly, “So what does that mean for the others? What does the king do with the five of them?”

Once again, the metaphor was not lost on him, and you felt the slightest stiffening of his body against yours as he pulled his lips from where they had been tracing along your ear lobe and looked down at you.

Shit, did you go too far? Maybe you should’ve just stopped while you were ahead and not crossed into that topic of conversation just yet…

“What do you want me to do with them, doll?”

You definitely weren’t expecting that as a response, as shown by your staring blankly up at him for a few seconds before saying, “Isn’t that your choice?”

He gave an amused tsk of disapproval. “No, that’s not how it works when we both rule the board. Each partner gets a say, and then we figure it out together.”

Did he just...call you… “Is that what I am?” you asked, heart inflating like a bubble at the possibility.

“I mean, we can stick with just calling you my queen, if that’s what you want, but I think partner also has a nice fucking ring to it.”

His partner. Not his wife, or girlfriend. Partner.

Stretching up to give him a kiss of approval, you said, “Partner is perfect.”

Deciding to go all in, you added, “And I only want you, no one else. I want you to be the person I snuggle up against each night, and the one whose bed I wake up in each morning knowing that I belong there. I want to walk proudly beside you and know that you’re mine, as much as I’m yours.” You hesitated, a small dart of worry at the brutally honest words making you feel the need to ask, “But what do you want?”

The playful light was back in his eyes, that sinful tongue running over his bottom lip. “I thought I already made that fucking obvious, doll. But if I didn’t, then listen very closely.”

His lips traced over your face, leaving butterfly kisses on your cheeks and nose and forehead as he spoke the words. “I want you. Fucking simple as that. I’ve wanted you, and only you, since the day you fucking kicked my ass at chess.”

This was technically information you already knew, thanks to Trixie, but hearing it from him made it that much more real. It was as if even though all the signs were there, you still didn’t want to fully believe you were the reason for his change in behavior with the wives, not until he confirmed it himself.

Trying to add a bit of lightness, you hummed in pleasure at his lips kissing the sensitive spot on the curve of your neck and quipped, “Who knew all it would take was a game of chess for me to stand out.”

Giving a huffed laugh, he said against your skin, “If you think that’s the only way you fucking stand out, you’re even more oblivious then I fucking thought.”

“Hey! Are you telling me I’m weird or something?” you laughed, playfully tugging at his hair so that he raised his head to look at you.

“Wellllll…” he joked, smiling broadly before his expression got a bit more serious. “In all honesty, doll, I’ve respected the hell out of you since the moment you arrived here.”

Eyebrows raising, you said, “Oh? Do go on.”

His eyes danced with mirth, but his words were uncharacteristically sincere. “Despite being scared shitless when my men first found your little group, you never fully submitted or lost your fight. You marched right into the Sanctuary like you were gonna own the whole fucking place, or at least own the kitchen, which you did in a ridiculously short amount of fucking time, I might add. I felt like a fool for asking you to be another wife and expecting you’d be happy just sitting around looking pretty.”

You gave a haughty grin, but let him continue, knowing that confessions such as this were few and far between with Negan. And you were going to soak in every affectionate word like a desert does the rain, because as much as the actions and nonverbals fed your heart, his words were what now fed your soul.

“I knew you’d be trouble the the first time I walked in the kitchen to check on things and you refused to fucking kneel with the others, staring me down in a way that said you were demanding to be treated at my equal, and just daring me to try and fucking do something about it. It was that same daring each time we were alone that drew me in like fucking catnip, and while the smart thing would’ve been to stay away, when I found you out in the fucking woods about to be walker chow and totally going against my orders, it gave me the perfect opportunity to force you closer. I knew I should stop sending for you, stop finding reasons to visit the kitchen or order you to bring me trays, but damn doll, you were too fucking exciting to walk away from.

“The day you beat me at chess, you were so fucking proud of yourself, and I realized that instead of being pissed, I was proud of you too. I knew I had a spitfire on my hands, and damn if that didn’t make my dick hard.” His voice lowered a bit, so that you held your breath in order not to miss a single word. “But it wasn’t until that first outing together in the woods, when you killed that walker and saved my fucking hide, that I realized I was done for. That I might as well throw down my crown because the king had been captured, and the game was over.”

You thought back to that day, to the kiss and the look in his eyes afterward. Had you known back then? Possibly, but you never would’ve admitted it to yourself, not at that point. You felt a lump start to form in your throat, eyes blinking rapidly in an effort not to tear up. And you would have succeeded, damn it, if not for his next words.

“I tried to fight it, to fight you. Hell I almost got you fucking killed by chasing you out of here, and all because of my own fucking stubborn pride. I’d never hated myself as much as I did in that moment, when we found you lying injured in the fucking woods. I’ve loved and lost, more than any man should, but...the thought of losing you was what almost ruined me.”

Tears trickled down your cheeks in cool rivulets. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered. Hell, if you had known all of this a bit earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have hesitated to talk things out. Wouldn’t have held back as much as you did.

Giving a self-deprecating smile, he said, “Because I’m a fucking idiot. But also because every time I considered it, you’d fucking pull away. I would’ve claimed you publicly as mine weeks ago, but you about had a god damn heart attack anytime there was a chance someone might see us getting fucking cozy together. I could practically hear the fears and doubts whirring around in your head the last few days, so I took the coward’s way out and tried to halt those thoughts by repeatedly fucking you any chance I got, until you were too exhausted to overthink.”

He had meant the words to make you laugh, but instead you suddenly felt overwhelmed. Your stupid eyes wouldn’t stop watering, and if you weren’t careful your nose would start clogging up too. You had always been jealous as hell of women who could cry prettily, because you definitely weren’t one of them.

You tried to school your features, tried to put on at least a thin mask of “I’m fine, totally fine” but more tears followed by a hiccuped sob escaping your lips said otherwise. You unwrapped your arms from his neck in order to press a hand to your mouth in an effort to try and stifle the emotions leaking out.

“No,” he said, stern enough to jolt you out of the overanalyzing spiral your brain wanted to jump down.

Pulling your hand away from your mouth with a gentle but firm grip, he clasped it between his own hands. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you asked.

Lifting one hand, he used his thumb to brush away the tear sitting stubbornly on the middle of your cheek. “Don’t do what you did last time. Don’t hide from me again.”

Sighing, you nodded in agreement. “Fine, but it would be nice if one of these times it was you crying and not me.”

Humor was a mask of its own, one both of you used to cover up emotions. However, since you were standing there with red-rimmed eyes and he had just verbally confessed his emotions more in the last few minutes than he probably had during the rest of the apocalypse combined, you both deserved a bit of humor.

“The day that happens, I might as well just chop off my dick and fucking hand that over as well,” he joked back, causing you to smile and shove at him playfully.

Giving an exasperated sigh, you said “I can’t believe I’ve been so dumb about all of this, thinking...well, assuming totally incorrect things. Guess that’s what I get for not trying to just talk it out.”

He gave you a mock-stern expression and said, “Well, then let this be a fucking lesson.” He used two fingers to point at your eyes and then at his own, and back to yours. “Partners, remember.”

God, you loved the way that word rolled off his tongue. It was exactly what you had always secretly hoped to find with a man: an equal partnership. Sure, Negan was still the leader of the Sanctuary and had the role of badass motherfucker to uphold, but at the heart of things you stood on equal ground, and your thoughts and feelings and opinions mattered just as much as his own. Not to mention, you would dare him to deny that you were the leader of the kitchen staff. And hey, there was a lot of power in being the one in charge of making sure the entire community was fed. And the fact that he didn’t want to take any of that away from you, that he was proud of your accomplishments, made you fall for him even more.

“Partners,” you agreed with a nod, running a hand up over his chest. Fingers traced his strong, masculine features before running up into his hair to map the streaks of salt among the pepper.

Eyes brightening with desire, he stared with laser focus down at your mouth, his nostrils flaring as he watched your teeth subconsciously nibble on your lower lip as you took in this handsome man who was yours. All yours. Seeing the intent in his gaze and knowing where this was about to go by the sudden tensing of his muscles for action, you pressed your other hand against his chest lightly and said, “Wait, one more thing. I have a request.”

“Name it,” he said without hesitation.

“Um...this might seem a bit random, but is there any way you could bump Simon up to having a single room?” When Negan looked at you in slight bewilderment, you continued, “That way Ben can visit whenever he wants.”

His brows lowered, and you were afraid he was going to dismiss the issue as not important, so you pressed on. “In all honesty, it was Ben’s insistence that I be honest and talk things out with you that helped push me to say what I did tonight. I kinda owe him.”

The unspoken words were that Negan kinda owed him too, and his scowl said that he heard them loud and clear. With a slight huff, he grumbled, “I’ll see what I can fucking do.”

Giving a wide smile, you stood up on tiptoe and planted a very grateful kiss on his lips, with tongue included. Pulling back a bit, you whispered against his mouth, “I’d love to see what you can fucking do.”

At that, he scooped you up into his arms with a growl and strode into the bedroom, where he then proceeded to spend a good portion of the night showing you just how thoroughly captured the king really was.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Extra Author’s Note: Holy crap, was I nervous af to post this chapter. I feel like so much has been building to this conversation between You and Negan, and I wasn’t sure how readers were going to feel about it. I know some people were expecting more drama and angst, especially since this is about the time that romance novels usually throw in the so-called “third act conflict”. However, I personally find it pretty annoying when that conflict is some form of unneeded miscommunication or lack of communication, followed by the characters being apart for a period of time and then coming back together in one grand gesture before bam, an abrupt ending where you’re to expect them to live happily ever after with no more issues.

Instead, I had You and Negan do that earlier in the fic, with the “Confrontation” chapter where they royally fucked up and had to stumble their way back together, followed later by the pregnancy test argument where they started to fuck up but then both broke their unhealthy fight cycle (You did this by walking away and Negan did it by going after her and deciding to actually listen). And now, with this chapter I wanted to showcase their growth and how they’ve learned enough from past mistakes to move forward. Some people might see this chapter as too fluffy, but I saw it as a way to show two grown ass adults finally laying down their emotional shields and communicating in an open and healthy manner. At this point, I thought Negan and You deserved that, and I hope y’all agree.

Whether you loved it, hated it, didn’t care, all of the above, etc, please feel free to let me know. I’m so so curious to hear what people thought of this chapter, and if what I was hoping to showcase came across in a satisfying way. Thanks for reading! I’ll be back with more updates after Camp Nano! <3

#negan #negan fanfiction #negan fanfics #irresistible danger #the walking dead #negan's thirst squad #ash writes #twd #negan fanfic #negan x you #negan x reader #slow burn #fanfic #fanfiction #twd negan #the walking dead negan #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan

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mendesbadrepuation · 3 years

Text

Bachata // Sebastian Stan

Once again TikTok has inspired me and inspired this little one shot/imagine/pov. Whatever you prefer to call it. I decided to post this one because I simply knew it would sit around in my drafts collecting vast amounts of mold and dust. I had lots and lots of fun with writing this. I did a little research on this dance and even found a song. Hope everyone enjoys :)

Bachata is a form of dancing. Very sexy and very intimate at times.

Background: Y/n is a famous actress learning a new dance for a scene in her movie. Her co-star Sebastian Stan is her partner learning just as much as she is. They might even learn something else along the way. Feelings perhaps?

tw- not any that I can think of. loads of fluff and vast amounts of fun!

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“Alright you two! Get warmed up and comfortable.” Our dance instructor informs us as the music begins blasting through the studio. I make sure my heels are strapped in and I look up at Sebastian. Today he had on black basketball shorts with a graphic white tee. There was this obvious scruff across his chin and jawline. It really brought out all his features.

He was walking towards me in a funny way. His arms and legs were throwing out into this strange dance move. When your characters are professional dancers and your person playing them are not. This is what happens. I start to lightly laugh and walk towards him to the beat of the music. Our instructor has us do this everyday before we rehearse our big dance scene. It helps us get comfortable with one another and shake whatever maybe in our minds from that day away. It was a good coaching technique if you ask me.

We join our hands together at the drop of the beat. We don’t follow our steps and just dance how we like. It was fun and that’s what made this entire experience a little better. I focus on making light steps with my heels so it looks more elegant as the instructor would say. She’s also the entire choreographer for this movie so she knew a thing or two. Part of me was also focusing on not falling on my face every step I took. I was never use to wearing heels in general. Now I was being pushed to dance in them. This instructor has pushed me in ways I never knew before.

“This a new top?” Sebastian asks as he pulls me into his chest. They press together and I sway my hips to the beat. One of his hands goes to my waist guiding them towards his thigh.

“Yeah. You like it?” I look up into his eyes as our faces were inches apart. He grins at me when our eyes lock. All I had on was a simple cropped spaghetti strap tank. It was this mint green kind of color. A new color for me.

“Cute.” He replies making my face red. Sebastian made it his goal to make me blush everyday. I don’t know how it became this game for him but it did. Sometimes he didn’t even have to try. He’d simply look at me a certain way and my face was red as a tomato.

However, being in these close situations it helped for him to lighten the mood. He done that very often. Especially when I would get frustrated with a certain move I had trouble getting down. We really bonded through this film and all that has came with it. I was excited to learn this new dance and tell all my friends I can. Of course they would get to see it on screen when the film comes out.

“Okay! Get into your first positions and let’s start at the beginning and work our way into where we left off yesterday.” The instructor commands us. We step away from each other and go to our designated positions. We stand on each side of the studio across from each other. I lean my back against the mirror in the way the instructor told me to. Sebastian had one leg propped against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Our characters were designated to be in the beautiful city of Italy. Seb and I were excited to film there when the time came. Which was coming soon. Our special dance scene was coming together and before we knew it we’d be ready to fully put it together. We had two more parts to get down. The finale was suppose to make people cry apparently. That is if we do our jobs right. Which I had faith in Sebastian and I. We’ve worked so hard for this film.

The song begins to play. *Promise Romeo Santos (ft. Usher)*

I push off the wall and seductively walk towards Sebastian. Our eye contact was locked in with each other. I walk a circle around him as he stands in place. My finger drags across his back very slowly. His neck was turned toward his shoulder so he could try to catch a glimpse of me. When I reach around his front our eyes lock again. My body gets closer until he places his hands on my hips pulling me right into his body. I rest my hands on his shoulders for a moment letting him guide my hips to the music.

Our faces were inches apart as we stared into each other’s souls. It felt as if our hearts were dancing together when we did dance. That’s how romantic and sexy this dance really was. I glide my hands up to his neck to cup it gently. It makes our connection stronger in the moment. He starts to take his steps backing me up. I flow backwards with him helping me guide the way. If we didn’t trust each other then this dance would not work.

My right arm extends out as Sebastian used one arm to lift me up. My legs remained straight and I held my grip firmly on his shoulders to keep my form. His head was angled right into my lower chest. He keeps his focus on me as I turn my head to the side closing my eyes. I felt the breeze from him spinning me around. I tuck my knees in and bring my hand back down to his shoulders. He lifts me up and over his leg where I rest behind his thigh for a second.

He pulls me back over and I place my feet back down to the ground. His hands let go of my waist as I step away from him. Sebastian does his individual steps as I walk around him making sure all the attention was towards him. When he bows I began my individual steps. My last step brought me back into his arms. His large hands made their way to my hips once more. He brings me towards him as I straddled his thigh. With the beat of the music I grind my hips into his thigh. We never lost eye contact in this moment. My heart was racing at the intimacy this part held.

“One two three.” Sebastian whispers the count directly next to my ear giving me the cue to step back just enough for him to grab my hand as I extend myself out. He lets me spin out only to bring me back in. Once more I straddled his thigh and grind into his thigh. This time my hips come up a little higher and Sebastian meets me. Our bodies collide perfectly together. It was as if we were made for each other.

Without any hesitation Sebastian spins me around by my hips so now my back is pressed against his chest. His right hand trails up my side towards my stomach and directly through the valley of breasts. My heart flutters when I felt his hand around my neck pushing me into him more. On beat we practically snap our necks to look each other in the eyes again. His hand around my neck now goes up to my face where he softly rubs his thumb across my cheek bone. My hips sway against him slowly as the music begins to fade from the instructor controlling it.

“That was awesome you two! Absolutely beautiful! Let’s finish this last part and you guys will be ready to put it all together for the final scene.” She announces as she goes over in front of us. She explains the new steps thoroughly making sure we understood first. Then she takes each of us and guides us how to do what and where to look.

The final part added a sexy flair with so much passionate romance. It felt like I was watching a movie myself when she used Sebastian to show me my steps. Sebastian listened as intently as he could. I catch him staring at me at one point and all I could do was smile at him. We were sweaty and tired from the hours of practice. I could see it on both of our faces. We never had the thought of giving up though.

Once we learned the steps it was time for rehearsing it. The finale of this scene really tied the entire dance together. At the very end Sebastian and I were set to have our big kiss. The choreographer did not want us to kiss yet so the passion will let itself develop in the final dance. You could guess I was pretty excited about kissing my scene partner.

_______

The magic was in the air here in Italy. It was time for our big dance scene to come alive tonight. The directors and producers chose a nice little alley way between these bright pink buildings. Around us was all the Italy architecture you could imagine. This city truly was gorgeous in every aspect.

“Are you ready?” My stylist asks me as she is finishing up the touches on my hair and makeup. The costume director chose for me to be in a silk black two piece dress. The top piece had an A-line design with spaghetti straps. The skirt part was completely silk with two slits on either side. That way it would show off my legs for the dance. Just to add a little spice he chose red satin heels with an ankle strap. The heels I had been practicing in to be exact.

“Nervous. But ready.” I reply to her. I look at her through the mirror and see a soft smile on both of our faces.

“You’ve got this. No reason for you to be nervous.” She encourages. “Besides. This is your big moment to kiss Sebastian.” She smirks at me making my cheeks red.

“Y/n It’s time!” The director calls from the other side of the tent. My stylist fluffs my hair one more time and sends me on my way. I walk outside of the changing tent and step into the bright sunny day of Italy. The crew all looked towards me which made me blush wildly. Big smiles land on their faces and it boosts my confidence.

“Go ahead and get in your place Y/n. Sebastian is on his way!” The choreographer commands me and I nod my head making my way over to the marker. I lean against the wall and focus on my breathing. This is what we had been working for.

To keep the suspense Sebastian and I were positioned to look in opposite directions. I had no idea what he was wearing and he had no idea what I would be wearing. The thought of how handsome he could look was circling in my brain. My stomach was beginning to be filled with nervousness as we wait for the action to be called. I focus on an object off in the distance.

“Ready. ACTION!” The director calls. The music begins to play and I take in a deep breath.

My head slowly turns towards Sebastian standing opposite of me. Our eyes meet at the same time and I watch him take in a breath. He was beyond the words of handsome. They chose to put him in a white linen button down with the buttons open midway to his chest. The shirt hugged his shoulders perfectly making him look so muscular. And he was. He had on these nice gray pants that were loose enough for dancing but looked as if they fit like dress pants. My God is hair was styled perfectly back. Just enough gel to give it a little raise and the rest was just this fluffy bounce. My heart rose to my throat and it took me a moment to snap back.

Luckily I had practiced the routine so much that my feet took control at the start of the music. I elegantly walk to Sebastian as he walks to me. We didn’t remove our eyes from each other just like before. My heart was pounding when I was just close enough to see the shining blue in his eyes. The moment his hands come in contact with my hips a spark was sent through my body. His fingertips just barely graze my exposed skin on my waist. It makes my head spin from the minimal touch.

We continue through the routine just like we practiced. The passion and romance was every bit there. I felt it in my chest the way he would guide me, touch me, and hold me. When he spins me around and pressed my back up against his chest I felt my knees becoming weak. Just the fragile way he pressed his fingertips into my skin to pull me closer to him was enough to make me fall apart. I was trying to remain professional but it was hard with those blue orbs seeping into me.

Just as we approach the final part I felt butterflies erupting like a volcano in my stomach. Sebastian pulls me in as close as he can. One hand holds my waist while the other held my back. I felt him start to lean me down for the special dip. The music comes to a slow as he brings me back upright. My hand cups his cheek and our breathing was heavy. Our chests rise and fall hard against one another.

Our faces inch closer and closer. Instinctively our eyes shut just as our lips collide for the first time. My heart pounds hard against my chest that I could hear it in my ears. Sebastian deepens the kiss making me so light headed. I felt as if I was floating. He grazes his tongue across my bottom lip allowing him further access. His tongue was gentle and not too forceful. I’ve had many stage kisses but never has one made me feel this way before.

We pull back for air and stare into each other’s eyes. The director calls cut but Sebastian doesn’t loosen his grip or move an inch. I stay put still looking into his eyes.

“That was awesome you two! I’m so proud!” The choreographer announces and I take a step back letting my grip fall. My hands rest at my sides as I couldn’t contain the blush from appearing on my face.

Sebastian had this grin on his face as he continues to look at me. His eyes look from my head to my toe once more. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” He compliments. If it was possible my face got 10x more red.

“Thank you Sebastian.” I barely muster up the words to reply. “You look very handsome.” This time he looks to his right and a subtle blush appears on his face.

“Thank you.” He scratches the back of his head to ease his nerves. There was an obvious connection between the two of us. However, something was holding us back from just admitting it. We wanted each other but we wanted to remain professionals.

After filming was over with for the movie I was sad to leave. Who wouldn’t be? I have grown such a connection with all of these people. Shortly after filming Sebastian reached out to me. It was just a simple text message. Should it have gave me the amount of butterflies it did?

Would I ever be able to dance with you like that again?

I couldn’t help but smile down at my phone. “What are you smiling at over there?” My best friend asks me. I shake my head trying to contain myself.

“Nothing to worry about.” I reply shortly and think of a message back.

If you’re lucky ;)

I tried to be flirty but also not give away the fact that I was crushing hard on a fellow co-star. Somehow I just knew Sebastian was going to become a big part of my life. He reads the message and I see the bubble pop up. Just as fast as it pops up it disappears. I let a soft sigh out.

“Hey look Y/n! Isn’t that Sebastian?” Another one of my friends ask. We were all having a nice time catching up at my place. I had been gone for months so they didn’t have to do much begging when it came to hanging out.

The tv was playing the in background. I scramble around finding the remote turning the volume up. There he was on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Falon. My heart starts to rapidly beat in my chest at the looks of him. A black suit jacket with a floral button down underneath. His hair styled back with some gel. Once again he was just as handsome as the day I first met him.

“So Sebastian! You’ve got a new movie coming out with none other Y/n y/l/n. You know she’s one of my favorites on this show. How was it working with her?” My breath caught in my throat as my friends slightly squeal with the mention of my name.

“Oh wow. It was the best. She’s an absolute sweetheart! I can’t count the times she made my heart skip a beat.” He playfully clutches his chest. I thought I was going to faint. The crowd on the show erupts into cheers from the comment.

“Woah woah woah! Seems to me like there is some chemistry behind the scenes.” Jimmy replies egging him on. He looks down into his lap with a soft smile.

“There was definitely some moments throughout filming that had...” he pauses to think about his words. “Sparks flying I guess you could say.” Jimmy leans back in his chair in shock as the crowd gets louder.

“The producer so graciously let me have this little clip of a special scene that you all shared. Let’s watch shall we?” He gestures to another screen and the clip begins rolling. It was a small trailer that I actually hadn’t seen yet. Flashes of my face throughout filming appear. Scenes that we developed.

I see the clip of the beginning of the dance scene. The very moment we looked at each other it only showed Sebastian’s reaction. It zooms on his face and in his eyes I swear I saw a twinkle. Nice editing if you ask me. My heart jumps to my throat as the clip fades out. Sebastian is leaning back in his chair with an obvious blush on his cheeks.

“Let’s talk about that look man.” Jimmy says. Sebastian starts shaking his head. He had a big smile on his face. It’s like he was lost in his thoughts.

“That reaction was completely real. Our choreographer had us look away until the director called action. So for lack of better words. She took my breath away.” Jimmy covers his mouth in shock and the crowd was even more crazy. My jaw drops to the floor at his words.

“Wow. Seems like you two are starting a new romance Sebastian!” Jimmy says and I’m about to pass out from this entire interview.

“Yeah. If I’m lucky.” He smoothly winks at Jimmy. I knew what that meant. I just sent those words to him. My entire body was on an adrenaline rush.

“What does that mean!?” My friend asks in a high pitch. She was trying to contain her excitement but it was no use.

I look over at her with the biggest smirk on my face. My friends jump up from their seats circling around me in pure excitement. Thousands of questions were being shout out in my direction.

“Guys!” I laugh trying to get them to calm down. “When I say I’ve never had a stage kiss like his before. I mean it.” They shout in even more excitement.

“Well you’ve heard it hear live. Go check out this romantic new movie when it hits a theatre near you!” Jimmy closes the interview. Sebastian stands up waving to the crowd. The show goes to commercial and I’m still standing there speechless at his words. Was this really happening?

I bring my phone up. Without any hesitation I click on his messages again. Out of nerves I bite the inside of my cheek contemplating my next move.

“Whatever you’re about to say to him. Say it!” My friend encourages. I glance up at them and back to my phone.

Will you take my breath away if we dance again?

My cheesy reply still makes my heart pound in my chest. I wait a little over a minute and my phone buzzes against my hand.

If you’ll give me the chance I will hopefully do more than that.

I bite my lip to try and suppress the emotions circulating through my body.

Time and place?

My fingers come up to my lips as I nervously bite at one of my nails.

7 tomorrow night at my place. I’ll pick you up.

My eyes grow wide in surprise. This was really happening. I was planning a date with Sebastian Stan.

I’ll bring an inhaler just in case :)

I couldn’t ignore the wave of nausea building up in my stomach.

Good idea. I’ll bring a crash cart. Just in case your gorgeous self sends me into cardiac arrest.

My eyes roll at the flirtatious comeback. I leave the message open and explain to my friends we had to find an outfit quickly.

I was going on a date with Sebastian Stan.

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like, comment, or reblog for a part two? Thank you for reading guys!!!! :))

#sebastian stan #Sebastian #bucky #fluff #imagine #oneshot #bucky barnes #marvel #y/n x Sebastian #dance #bucky fanfic

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mintymiknow · 3 years

Text

Trust Fall ch. 8 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: Little discussions here and there seem to open some eyes and hearts, but is it enough to fully break down the walls that were built?

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 5.8k

Warnings for this chapter: Genre-typical violence & blood due to fight scenes (rest assured, it isn’t gore; just basic or typical violence for fight scenes). Let me know if I missed anything or should add more warning tags though!

A/N: I know you all had to wait for a bit, but I used my break to spend time with family (and play Genshin so...hehe I needed some “me-time”). Anyway! I’m back and here to give you all the next chapter for the series. I hope you enjoy reading it as the end scenes have been my favorite to write so far ‘cause you’ll be getting some tension and fluff at the same time. Leave an ask for any questions and comments!

“I’ve fallen into a daily routine now. I’m used to everything and go about my day normally now.”

That’s what you’d like to say anyway.

While it’s somehow true that you’ve fallen into a systematic rhythm in SKZ, it’s still something that weighs down on you, and you just want to get things over and done with. You still have to drag your body away from the bed, drag your feet here and there, and work in the lab department.

This systematic rhythm consists of working in the lab with Seungmin and Jisung - and eating your meals with them mostly. It also involves Minho and the other boys going on smaller-sized missions, each return giving you more things to work with and whatnot.

In the very back of your head and heart, the brief moments Minho spends with you - namely late nights in the lab discussing the recent findings and theories - are somewhat a breather as it reminded you of the times you and Dr. Kang would stay in the doctors’ lounge, talking about how your rounds with the patients went for the day.

Well, at the end of it all, at least you’re basically good friends with Seungmin and Jisung now. Being with the two gave you a sense of freedom as if you were back in your more relaxed college days or something of that sort.

After getting showered and dressed for another day, you head to the lab department. On the way, you bump into Felix in the courtyard-like area of the HQ. The young male greets you with a smile, “Morning, y/n! Lab duty again?”

You offer a small smile and nod in response, “Hi, Felix. Yes, as usual.”

“I see.” Felix chuckles lightly, “Don’t forget to stand up and stretch from time to time. Sitting for long hours isn’t good for your posture! Though you’re the doctor so I’m sure you knew that…”

“We can forget.” you chuckle, “Thank you for the reminder. You should keep that in mind too.”

“Yeah, sitting in front of computer screens and whatnot is bad for my eyes, but probably my back too.” Felix laughs, his eyes filled with so much brightness.

You release a soft sigh and smile, “I commend you and your efforts in the tech division.”

“Thanks…” Felix says sheepishly, “I’m not one for being in the limelight, but it’s nice to hear that us tech agents are doing good too. We are working in the background most of the time.”

“Well, I’m sure that without you and the other tech guys, Minho and the rest of the agents would be doing missions blindly and without any advantages.” you say seriously yet warmly.

“That’s true.” the younger laughs, “Gee, you’re really nice, you know that?”

“Not really...just...um, saying facts.” you stutter, suddenly taken by surprise by his compliment, “It’s from a completely objective perspective after all…”

Felix grins wider, shaking his head, “I can tell you’re a nice person, y/n! Minho says you’re a bit closed off, but it’s understandable. Jisung and Seungmin know you best, and they like you a lot, so that’s more than enough to like you too. Besides, you wouldn’t be here if you really didn’t care, right?”

After that statement, another agent calls for Felix, so the freckled male has to excuse himself. As he trots off to the main HQ building, you stand there, dumbfounded.

“Besides, you wouldn’t be here if you really didn’t care, right?”

You’ve been blaming Minho and Jung and SKZ for dragging and forcing you back into the game. Blaming them for giving you no choice no matter what, but deep down, you knew that you did have a choice. You could run away any time, turn to the government or something to fight for your rights. You could give in to the dark whispers of joining Cle to end whatever struggle once and for all.

But you had a choice, and you chose to work with SKZ.

Because yes, you cared. Yes, you wanted to make sure no one lost their lives over a stupid serum.

You chose this.

Who knew that Felix, happy-go-lucky and carefree as he was, would just nonchalantly utter words that would open your eyes and heart. Well, maybe it was that innocence and cheerfulness that made it more believable and genuine to you.

Shaking your head to release yourself from a trance, you clear your throat and make hurried steps towards the lab department. You take the elevator and go down to the underground level where most of the work is done. You then venture further inside, heading for the hallway where various rooms are lined. You’re about to scan your ID to open the door to the lab room you frequently use when the door slides open by itself; you’re met with a tall figure in front of you.

You look up, only to see Jung standing in front of you, tilting his head to the side. “Oh, Dr. Song, good morning.” he chuckles.

You nod politely, “Yes, good morning, Jung. What...what brings you here?”

Jung rarely stepped foot into the lab unless you guys summoned him and the agents for briefing on test findings and results. As far as you were concerned, the results for the tests Jisung ran yesterday are due later in the afternoon, not this morning.

Unless...something happened and Jung needed to speak directly to you, perhaps?

“Did...something happen?” you ask again, clearing your throat.

Jung shakes his head and offers a smile, “Well, technically I was looking for Seungmin, and since you both work closely, I thought he’d be here...where’d that boy go?”

“Seungmin’s doing his rounds in the medical wing, I think.” you explain, “Did you need something from him? Maybe I’d know…”

“Oh, no. It’s just about an agent that needs treatment, and I think Seungmin would be the best doctor to work on it.” Jung sighs and offers a small smile, “No matter, I’ll look for him myself.��

“I see, alright then.” you nod.

“Have a good day, Dr. Song. Don’t forget to take breaks. Minho says you’ve been working non-stop.” Jung calls over his shoulder as he walks away, muttering something about ‘where is Kim Seungmin’ afterwards.

You go inside the lab room and press the button for the door to slide shut. Call it “trust issues”, but as soon as the door closes, you scan the room and check everything there, making sure how you left it last night was how it was until now.

Not a single thing was out of place, so you mentally slap your mind for being so suspicious.

You then proceed to study whatever chemicals and substances the team has brought back the past few days, and you study them along with...well, vials of chemicals that you’ve hesitantly withheld from the rest - from Minho. These withheld items were things you’d only test and analyze when you were working by yourself, keeping the observations and notes in a small notebook that you kept in utter secrecy and safety.

If Jisung and Seungmin wanted to enter the lab room, they’d have to knock or scan their IDs, and if it were the latter, the beeping sound before the door opens gave you enough time to conceal whatever substances you were hiding under the table or in the desk drawers.

After a few hours or so, you finally decide to take a break and keep the vials and flasks in a locked cabinet before clearing up the desk and returning whatever equipment you used. However, you still remain seated on the stool, going through the notes you’ve written in your notebook and rattling your mind to come up with mental calculations and formulas to make sense of your findings. So far, you don’t have anything, and your eyebrows knit together in desperation.

“Y/n.”

You freeze in your spot upon hearing that sharp and clear voice; you don’t even bother to make any moves in hiding your notebook - that’s too suspicious. Instead, you simply close the notebook and try your best to look as calm as possible as you look up, “Agent Lee.”

Minho crosses his arms, something you’ve learned to look away from - unless you want to internally drool over how attractive the simple gesture looks. “I thought you were supposed to be with Jisung for today? That’s what he told me last night anyway.” he says plainly.

You sigh. Did they all keep tabs on you or what? “I was just about to meet with him.” you answer, breaking eye contact with him once again, “I just...wanted to check some things here.”

“Anything of use?” Minho raises an eyebrow, and you know he’s trying to get you to explain yourself.

You lift up your notebook and weakly wave it in the air before explaining, “Just...going over some notes from previous findings and trying to connect the dots. I...am yet to see anything of significance.”

Once again, not a complete lie; yes, you were trying to connect that dots and whatnot, but nothing of significance? That was a lie. You’ve already noted some pretty significant findings aside from the ones you discovered with the other scientists, but you didn’t need to tell Minho that. Not yet...maybe.

Minho walks over, stopping a bit too close for you, and you involuntarily flinch at the suddenness...and proximity. The agent notices the subtle reaction, eyes slightly lidding in either annoyance or guilt...you aren’t sure which one. He plants a hand on the desk, leaning against it as he raises an eyebrow again, “Care to share anything else?”

You shake your head, moving to put your notebook in your small purse and slinging it onto your shoulder. You stand up from the stool, but instantly regret it as Minho takes one very miniscule step towards you. That tiny step is enough to cause you to take your own step back, unfortunately bumping into the stool behind you. The male catches you with ease, a hand lightly supporting your lower back as he tugs you close with one swift and effortless motion.

Your hands fly out to settle against his chest in an effort to put as much distance between you two. Minho leans close, his head perfectly and dangerously near the side of your neck; his dark hair tickles your ear, and you can almost feel the tip of his perfect nose against the skin of your neck. You can’t help but gulp, and you’re sure the agent notices it. Despite his body warm against yours, you’re frozen like ice, unmoving as Minho remains in that position for a few more seconds.

After, he pulls back and stares at you with an unreadable expression, dark eyes still somehow sparkly despite the tension in the room. “Did you...perhaps drink at the bar before coming here? While on duty?” he asks sternly, as if reprimanding you.

You blink your eyes, staring at the male with confusion. “Excuse me?” you blurt out.

“You smell like alcohol.” Minho says in a deadpan manner.

You angle your head to sniff your shoulder to see if he was telling the truth. Surprisingly, you caught a whiff of alcohol from your jacket and internally groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment. If this were a cartoon, your cheeks would be tomato-red. You open your eyes to see Minho smiling at you, the curl of his lips nothing short of teasing and playful. Your cheeks are probably redder now.

“I didn’t drink today.” you clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from Minho’s to look down. Instead, your eyes land on his tie, already loosened at the top with the first few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. Your mind goes hazy.

Minho laughs lightly, “You do know it’s against the rules to go to the lounge bar when on duty, right?”

You snap out of whatever reverie you were in, dragging your eyes back to Minho’s. You nod, narrowing your eyes to mask your flustered state, “I drank yesterday, but with Seungmin and Jisung. I didn’t do anything today. This is the jacket I wore yesterday, that’s why.”

“I see.” Minho tilts his head innocently, pulling away and retracting his hand from your back; you suddenly miss the warmth.

You clear your throat once more before bowing politely, “Now if you’ll excuse me, Jisung might be waiting.”

You don’t wait for Minho to reply, skirting around him to leave the room in a hurry. Minho watches your retreating figure with warm eyes, but as soon as you’re gone, he narrows said eyes and scans the room. Though nothing in particular seems wrong, he does notice a small sheet of paper on the floor, perhaps slipping from your notebook when you hurriedly put it back in your purse. He bends down to pick it up, flipping it over to reveal a small polaroid photograph.

Minho’s eyes glaze at the photo, taking into account the three individuals posing happily. He sees a woman on the right, one eye closed as she makes a winking face with a smile wide and bright as she flashes a peace-sign with her hand.

In the middle is a male who Minho recalls is the man you met up with before - Dr. Kang Hyunbin, the one you claimed to be your good friend. He smiles calmly, eyes twinkling even through a photograph as he has one arm around the other woman’s shoulder, and another arm around your shoulder.

There, at the left side you stand, smiling wider than Minho has ever seen, eyes full of life and not dull like how it is in here. The three of you were in casual clothes, though still wearing your usual lab coats in what seems to be the outdoor garden of Gongjak Hospital.

“Never thought I’d see someone smile like this after her.” Minho thinks to himself, “How cruel is fate, huh?”

He catches himself looking at you a second too long than he intended, so he releases a sigh and pockets the photo, making a mental note to return it to you soon. Turning on his heel, the agent then heads for the training facility in the main building.

“If I may be so bold, I’d say you’re in love.” Jeongin laughs after finishing a routine on the treadmill, plopping down onto a bench, “Not kidding.”

Minho leans against one of the gym equipment, raising a displeased eyebrow as he utters, “Yeah, you’re being too bold as usual, Innie. That’s not even - I don’t even know what to say in response to that.”

Chan wipes the sweat off his forehead with a towel after he finishes his turn with the punching bag. “I am intrigued how you came with that conclusion though.” the eldest says.

Jeongin laughs, his eyes narrowing into a playful yet sincere disposition, “Well, you don’t show it, but we know you well enough to see that you really do care about her. And it’s not just because you’re her partner or it’s your job to do so. I know how you are when you genuinely care about someone, and your eyes tell me that you do care about y/n more than you lead on.”

“Ok, but what if I’m only like that because I don’t want her to die? Because we’re agents? We’re supposed to be protectors of this country and its people?” Minho reasons, heading towards the punching bag.

“You’re pretty touchy and teasing with her, am I right? Kinda flirty and charming.”

“It’s called a cover, Innie. You’re familiar with that.”

“I just have a feeling. You don’t care about people to that extent. You tend to act out of duty and obligation, not attachment and emotion. With us being an exception to that, the other person I can see this side of you with is when you’re with y/n, or if it involves y/n.” Jeongin leans back against the wall, his smile not faltering one bit, “Not saying you’re attached to her, but I’m just saying that there’s already an emotional connection, and I have a feeling it won’t be long until it becomes something more serious.”

Chan looks at the youngest in awe, smiling like a proud father as he slowly claps his hands. He puts a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder and gently shakes him before turning to Minho, “You know, I do have to agree with Innie on this. You don’t even have to act on feelings or whatever. Just...try not to close yourself or your doors, alright? Maybe you’ll earn another new friend along the way.”

“I don’t need her if I have you guys.” Minho lightly punches the bag a few times, “She’s a waste of time. I just need her to finish her part so we can finally conclude this long mission.”

“You’re probably going to shoot me for saying this,” Jeongin starts as he hides behind Chan, “but are you just saying that because she reminds you of Jiyeon?”

At that, Minho shoots a glare at the two males, eyebrows furrowed. Jeongin sheepishly chuckles, but he boldly presses on. “Changbin told us...how much y/n reminds you of Jiyeon, and well, yeah, we do see it too. Is that why you don’t want to get attached? Not even romantically...platonically, even.”

Minho’s eyes soften as he looks down at the floor, “I’ve made myself clear when I said that emotions are a waste of time and are a useless distraction - things I can’t afford in this job. I’m here to protect people, not make friends and fall in love.”

Chan hums, offering a slow and easy smile as he looks at the male with warmth. “Y/n isn’t going to kill you. Or us. Or anyone for that matter.” the eldest agent states confidently, “It goes against her principles...against the doctor in her. That’s more than enough to convince me she’s on our side.”

“Wasn’t that what we thought of Jiyeon?” Minho scoffs, “Noble woman serving the organization to protect the people because of her pure heart?”

“No.” Chan says in an instant, his voice filled with certainty, “Y/n cares about lives, otherwise she wouldn’t be here. She’ll do everything in her power to fix this just so she can prevent harm...and maybe find peace from whatever past is haunting her.”

Then Minho and Chan stare at each other, a brotherly connection swarming in their eyes as whatever determination Chan has to share makes its way to Minho. The eldest agent then continues with a softer, more apologetic voice, “Jiyeon...is the opposite of y/n, now that I think about it. Y/n reminds you of the mask Jiyeon had, but not Jiyeon herself. That woman...worked in the complete opposite way of what we stand for - what y/n stands for.”

Minho releases a sigh, slumping down onto the bench beside Jeongin. With a groan, he leans his head back and rests it against the wall. Chan chuckles, giving his friend a light pat on the shoulder.

“Jiyeon’s gone, so let go of her now.”

A day later, Jung sends Minho and a small team to a factory site for investigation. He requests your presence as well, as the factory was used for chemical experiments, and you might have additional input as the investigation is carried out.

You sit in the backseat of the car, staring out the window as Minho sits next to you, and despite being on the other end of the backseat, you can feel his warmth radiating from him. Usually, he’d be driving or seated in the passenger seat if Chan was driving. But right now, two other agents were in front, and while Minho was supposed to sit in front, he swapped places with the other agent and sat with you.

Though, if you were being completely honest, you couldn’t decipher why, because right now, the man has barely spoken or looked at you. It’s a quiet ride, and you aren’t sure if it’s because he’s with agents who aren’t his usual circle of friends; you decide to keep quiet as well.

The agent driving parks the car by some trees along with another car before your groups begin to trek up a small hill that leads to a secluded factory building. The other agents go their own way with Minho reminding them to keep things subtle and quiet. The male agent then addresses you, but he does not look your way, “Follow me.”

Not that you really cared, but his indifferent - or more indifferent than usual - demeanor slightly puts you in a confused state, but you follow him nonetheless. Once inside the factory building, you look around and whisper, “Is this an abandoned site?”

Minho shakes his head, sharp eyes looking around, “Technically not. Cle occupied and used this site, but as per intel, they’ve only recently relocated the operations for this place somewhere else. This is now just a backup hideout, in simpler terms.”

You nod your head, and Minho continues, “We’re here to investigate, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Ok.”

With that, another blanket of silence befalls you two, and you find yourselves searching and investigating the room you were in. You both work in silence, and while it has its pros and cons, you can’t help but feel uneasy. On the bright side, you could focus on your task at your own pace and not get distracted, keeping things to yourself if needed. However, you’re slightly used to him asking questions and checking on you every now and then, so you can’t help but think if he’s upset or angry.

Or he knows something about what you’ve been hiding.

Impossible; that couldn’t be the case right?

He’d confront you if that were the case, not avoid you...right?

Unfortunately, there’s nothing of interest and significance in this room, so you tell Minho. It would seem he has the same thoughts because he furrows his eyebrows and gestures towards the rooms down the hallway nearby. “They must have swept this place clean.” he sighs tiredly, “Let’s move on.”

You nod and follow him in silence, the agent carefully and quietly navigating through the confusing halls and rooms of the factory building. Unfortunately, it was as he said; it would seem Cle did a good job in making sure no traces were left for SKZ to pick up on, leaving you empty-handed. The agents communicate with Minho through their communication devices and inform the male that they’ve moved on to the North building which was on the opposite side of the factory compound.

You and Minho head to the last location to scout, and it turned out to be a run-down lab room. The interior and leftover equipment and tables were clean, but you could see specks of rust forming on the surface. You gingerly brush your hand on one of the table surfaces, sighing, “This kind of environment could affect whatever chemicals and substances they were working with.”

“Unless this is a set-up to make it look like they haven’t been doing anything here.” Minho points out, squatting down in front of one the shelves lined with bottles of murky liquid and chunks of...whatever specimens, “Any idea if these will be useful?”

You walk over to him and look at the stuff on the shelf. You sniff the bottles of murky liquid before contorting your face in disgust, “This is just stagnant water. It’s murky because of dust and dirt.”

“But these…” you trail off, tilting your head to examine the containers with whatever solid specimens, “...these are…”

You gulp, unable to finish your sentence as your mind finally registers what those specimens were; pieces of body parts that had long decayed, probably to be used for observational purposes but rotted over time.

Minho notices the way you stiffen, gulping hard as if urging yourself to keep the bile to yourself. He breaks whatever “silent treatment” he had going on, putting a hand to your shoulder to get you away from the shelf. He steps in front of you to block your view, bending slightly just to get to your eye level. “Y/n, just rela - ”

He doesn’t get to finish his words because in a split-second, his eyes leave yours as they fill with urgency. Before you know it, he grabs your shoulder more firmly and pushes forward. You yelp as you land on the ground with him on top of you at the exact same time you see a small dagger lodging itself into the shelf. Your eyes widen and fall to Minho who already has his icy eyes on the newcomer to the room.

He mutters a hurried “get out of here” before getting up and facing off with the stranger. However, you can’t bring yourself to move, frozen on the floor as you watch the stranger lunge for Minho. The two men engage in a frenzied hand-to-hand battle, but it would seem like the man is at par with Minho, keeping up with the skilled agent’s moves.

Minho refuses to draw out his gun to make sure he doesn’t make any noise to prevent attracting attention should there be more enemies around the area. He manages to gain a short upper-hand, sending the enemy a few feet back with a strong spinning kick. He then rushes over to you and grabs your hand so that he can pull you to your feet.

“Let’s go.” he says in a low voice, not wasting any time in running from the room.

You’re both running as fast as you can, hand tightly gripping each other’s as if your life depended on it. You arrive in one of the open-space rooms, and as you continue to run, the wooden floor below creaks softly. The enemy is a quick runner as well, somehow managed to catch up with you two. He reaches out, grabbing your other wrist and pulling you from Minho’s grasp and pulls his fist back to land a punch. The agent refuses to let him do so and turns around, using whatever momentum to pull you behind him just as the enemy’s fist lands on his jaw. The impact causes Minho to let go of you as he falls to the side, and you find yourself yelling his name.

The opponent chooses to go for Minho instead of you, picking the agent up by the collar of his shirt. He bashes his head against Minho’s, and while the agent winces in pain, he grits his teeth and fights back, back to being on equal ground with the enemy. They engage in another physical combat, landing blows on each other here and there. As if nothing could be worse, another stranger runs into the room, grabbing you from behind in a choke-hold.

You do your best to stop him from suffocating you, kicking and trying to elbow the man behind. Minho sees it from the corner of his eyes, clicking his tongue in exasperation. His opponent lunges an arm forward, holding a knife, so Minho grabs said arm and pivots with complex skill, doing some sort of flip and twisting the enemy’s arm so he could end up behind the agent. With the opponent in a similar choke-hold, Minho grabs the knife and skillfully throws it towards the stranger holding you.

Unfortunately, because you were both moving a lot, the blade seems to approach you instead. Your eyes widen with fear, but thankfully, it only shallowly cuts your cheek before lodging itself into the stranger’s neck. He lets go and collapses on the ground with a thud, blood now pooling around him.

However, because of that moment, Minho’s opponent gains the advantage once more, headbutting Minho’s chin, prompting the agent to let go. The enemy is quick to turn to Minho, another knife in his hand to jab at the male who is recovering his bearings. You don’t know how you managed to bring yourself to do it - maybe the adrenaline rush or fear of having Minho killed in front of you - but you pull out the knife that killed the other stranger and run towards Minho’s opponent, stabbing the blade into his shoulder as he was wearing a muscle tee.

You try to ignore the blood painting the enemy’s skin, using the time he takes to get the blade out to rush to Minho’s side. You both then take steps to run away; however, the enemy isn’t too pleased with what you’ve done, shifting his attention to you instead of Minho. As he takes a step forward, however, the wooden floor beneath creaks loudly, and Minho’s eyes catch the subtle splintering around the three of you.

“Minho, let’s go.” you say in panic when the agent seems to be standing still.

Minho’s eyes are stuck to the wooden floor, making some sort of mental calculation in his mind.

One more step.

As the enemy makes one more step, the floor makes a breaking sound and gives out. Minho, however, is able to push you back just in time, allowing you to remain on the unbroken part as he and the enemy fall to the floor below with a sickening crack.

“Minho!”

You see the agent pushing himself to get up with a few coughs, but so is the opponent. The agent then looks up to you, eyes still calm yet with a sense of urgency, “Go now! Run to the rendezvous point! I’ll follow!”

“But - ”

“I promise, just go!”

You bite your lip, nodding in understanding as you turn on your heel and make a run for it. Minho then wipes the blood dripping down his chin and turns to his opponent, a cold and almost cruel smirk playing at his lips, “Now that I don’t need to hold back, I hope you’re ready.”

Meanwhile, you pump your legs as hard and fast as you can, running towards the rendezvous point. Unfortunately, that meant where the cars were parked, but you still had a bit of distance to cover since you and Minho ventured deep inside the building. Just as you’re about to reach the end of the hallway near one of the back doors, you hear gunshots, bullets barely missing you. You try to conceal your screams, ducking down and running into a rather large room, quickly finding a hiding spot behind a cement pillar.

The shooter repeatedly shoots the structure as you cover your ears. Fragments of the pillar crack of and fly here and there, dusting your hair and shoulder with chalky-white bits. After a moment, the shooter stops to reload his gun, and you take the chance to sprint to another hiding spot.

He begins to shoot just as you drop down and make your way behind an old couch, a bullet barely missing your leg. He shoots without stopping, the couch fillings flying everywhere. Another round to reload his gun, and you grab a nearby ceramic vase and throw it to him as hard as you can.

The shooter shoots it, but the split-second allows you to find cover behind a desk in the other end of the room. You curl yourself up, hugging your knees to yourself as you take deep and shaky breaths. In the dead silence of the room, you can hear your shooter’s footsteps approaching slowly, the grasp of fear locking onto you as you cover your mouth. You hear the clicking of the shooter’s gun, and you close your eyes, anticipating the worst.

However, when you hear a bang followed by a thud, you don’t feel anything and instead see a body collapse to the side, thankfully facing away from you. A few seconds later, Minho appears, kicking the body away from you and kneeling beside you. “Y/n.” he whispers.

You let out a deep breath, only noticing now that tears have streamed down your face. Minho’s expression softens, eyebrows knitting in concern as he reaches out to brush off the cement particles that dusted onto your hair and shoulders during the shootout. He then moves to wipe your tears with his thumb.

Never have you seen so much warmth in his eyes as he stares at you, eyes never leaving yours as you let out quiet sobs that rattle your shaky figure.

Despite the cuts on his bleeding lip, bruises painting his cheekbone, blood trailing down from his head to the side, and disheveled hair, he still looked familiar, warm and comforting - like a home you’d return to after a hard day’s work in the hospital.

You didn’t know it was possible for him to look like that.

You close your eyes when his thumb stops brushing your tears away, his hand now moving to cup your cheek with a tenderness opposite of how he fought off his opponents. “Hey.” he whispers so softly, only you can hear it like a secret message, “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, still trembling. Minho nods in understanding and helps you up before telling you to wait for a second. He walks over to a nearby window and communicates with the rest of the team, giving them an update on the situation. Meanwhile, you kneel down next to the shooter’s dead body upon noticing a small plastic vial filled with red liquid. Quickly, you swipe it and shove it into your brassiere for extra measure. You stand back up, walking over to Minho.

He finishes communicating with the team before gently taking your hand in his, “Come on.”

Without a word, he leads you out, walking calmly towards the rendezvous point. Once there, it would seem like the team was still on the way from the other building, so Minho sits on the hood of one of the cars, eyes still on the sharp look-out for any enemies. You sit next to him, exhaustion clouding your eyes as you stare straight ahead.

“I’m sorry.”

You hum emptily, “Hm?”

Minho sighs, turning to face you. You don’t pull away when his hand finds your face, thumb gently dancing around the cut you got from the knife from earlier. The blood had dried up, but it made its mark. The agent’s thumb is soft as he strokes the skin under the cut, “Sorry about this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine.” you clear your throat, looking at him for a fleeting moment before turning your eyes to his chest, “You still saved me, so thank you.”

“And you saved me.” Minho responds, offering a small smile.

You can only nod, the impact of the events finally catching up to you. Tears swell in your eyes again, and you feel a light shiver travel down your spine. Minho isn’t new to comforting people; he may say he doesn’t care, but he knows what to do and how.

So he reaches forward, gently tugging on your arm to pull you close to his chest. Once your head comes into contact with his chest and you feel his arms wrap around you, providing warmth and security, you weakly sob against him. He brings a hand up to your head, softly stroking your hair as he whispers against your temple, “This mission wasn’t supposed to go this way. My bad for not being able to foresee these circumstances. Sorry you had to go through it.”

Perhaps today, you put your guard down enough for him to console you. You let yourself believe and trust him. Just for today. Tomorrow, who knows?

You shake your head and clear your throat, “Not your fault. It’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Minho sighs, hoping you don’t notice the way he holds you closer and tighter, “It is.”

Maybe Jeongin and Chan were right.

Loved you? Maybe not that.

Cared about you? Genuinely? Perhaps he sees it now.

But can he afford such a luxurious feeling? Such an emotion?

Last time he allowed himself such indulgence, he paid a cost too high.

148 notes · View notes

bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Moonlight

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

Summary: In which losing a fellow pilot has you falling apart, until your best friend can’t take it anymore and feelings come flooding out.

Warnings: SMUT, this is smut. Soft, fluffy emotions and comforting, brief talk of loss, death, battle, grief, healing. Language, and again, smut. WC-4,951

A/N: Wrote this to make myself feel better after my province announced another emergency lockdown. Big Star Wars fan but I kept things vague as I am no expert. Feedback appreciated ❤️

The nightmare surrounded you, inescapable, your body rigid despite your intense desire to run, flee. The healers had said these would fade over time, but it had been months since you had nearly died in battle against the First Order, and the nightmares still came.

Every damn night you relived the worst day of your life. The day you hadn’t been fast enough.

And then she was gone.

Your oldest friend, taken out by a tie-fighter right in front of you, as you desperately tried to outmaneuver the fucker and save her, your mind screaming at you that you were one of the best pilots in the Resistance, you had to stop them. You just had to.

But you didn’t make it in time.

It didn’t matter that the squadron had blindsided your unit. You were supposed to just be on surveillance, expecting at most a transport ship or the likes to ID and verify passage. When they appeared, it wasn’t even many of them yet they had come out of hyperspace right on top of you, and everything that happened only took minutes.

Six other pilots were out there with you. Four made it back.

“Fuck!” You gasped, shooting up in your bunk as you finally pulled yourself from the nightmare, your body shivering from the cool sweat coating your skin. You leaned over, glancing down at the bunk below-but he wasn’t there.

Poe.

Your best friend, commander and fellow survivor. He would comfort you if you just asked him, you knew that. You never could seem to find the words though. And you weren’t sure of his current whereabouts because he should have been sleeping...which led you to believe he might have ended up in another room tonight. Good for him, you thought.

It was just, something about watching your friend die, then almost joining them in whatever was beyond this life, it had woken you up that day. Slapped you right out of everything you knew and laid your cards on the table for you to face. You had to laugh at yourself, at how ridiculous you were, lying day after day that your feelings were platonic. When at night you’d wait until you were alone in the room, Poe off showering or at the Cantina, and you’d slip your fingers into your heat and think only of him, of your Poe. Always cumming within minutes, hard.

Poe and you had grown together in the Resistance. Though he was a few years older, therefore always technically your superior, he never treated you like anything other than his equal. He taught you to fly, to fight, to survive. And maybe if you hadn’t been so entirely focused on impressing him, on making him proud...maybe you’d have seen the way he looked at you. The way he paid complete attention to you. Or the ardent affection behind every friendly touch. Even the way he would bite his lower lip when, in professional settings, you referred to him by title.

You didn’t notice those things, however. And you’d never be convinced by a friend that he felt anything other than friendly toward you, no, he loved you only as a friend. A man like him, you reasoned, had no business settling down with you when he could have any person he wanted.

And he did, really. You would play wingman for each other all the time, during nights at the cantina. You'd wink at each other from across the room when one of you was making your way out with whoever you deemed worthy. If you both weren’t so stupid, maybe you’d have realized that it was each other you wanted to end the night with, that you each just went along with the other these nights, not wanting to risk such an important friendship and wanting to support one another in getting laid, in having fun.

When you had landed back at base after the surprise attack, two pilots short, you had stumbled out of your x-wing, your eyes leaking thick tears as you desperately searched for his face in the crowd. You’d barely made it down the ladder before he was rushing toward you, sweeping you into his arms and peppering you with sweet kisses and saying everything you needed to hear in those moments. When all you could feel was agony and grief-he knew exactly what to say to keep you off the edge.

That was when you realized how in love with him you were, and it was also when you decided you could never tell him your feelings. Because the idea of losing Poe? It was unbearable; you wouldn’t survive that.

So you locked them back.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you climbed down from your bunk and put on your slippers. It was warm enough on base to not bother with adding layers to your t-shirt and sleep shorts, thankfully. You exited the room, running your fingers through your hair to rid yourself of your bedhead, and pausing to decide where you planned to go.

Turning left, you mindlessly wandered away from your room in search of something to distract yourself.

Poe turned off the shower, steam swirling around him as he stepped out into the change room, grabbing his towel and shaking it through his locks before wrapping it around his body. He enjoyed late night showers, the quiet of the communal fresher helped relax him and clear his mind. It was also the ideal place to masturbate, alone in the tinted glass stall, one hand on the wall as the other twisted over his length, urging out the release he needed to help shake the thoughts of you away, to relax.

He had inadvertently gotten into a routine these last few months, showering late most nights and then making his way back to the bunk he shared with you, ready to comfort you when the nightmares took over. He had shifted his entire schedule just to ensure he was always there to roll you over gently in your bunk, a tactic he discovered early on helped to soothe you. He didn’t think you’d even realized what he had been doing, you never woke up, or if you did you had never said anything to Poe about it.

He hated seeing how the surprise attack changed you, your usually bubbly personality dimmed somewhat, your smile always a little slow. Slight shadows under your eyes gave away your restless nights, and he’d even realized recently that you’d lost some weight-it wasn’t much, but he loved your curves, the healthy glow you carried. He’d had to ask Finn and a few other pilots you were close with to keep an eye on you at meals. Try to get you eating without raising your suspicions.

When the First Order appeared in the middle of a routine patrol, Poe had immediately reacted; shouting instructions to the other five pilots and pulling his ship around to avoid oncoming fire.

His mind had briefly wondered if this would be the end. And then he had seen you, chasing after Sira’s ship and trying to stop the tie fighter. His heart had dropped and he sprang into action, not entirely losing his focus on his entire unit, but honing in on you to make sure nothing happened to you.

He took out the tie-fighter too late, had to watch as your friend died, hear your cries for her in the com. You had spun around and fired ceaselessly onto the onslaught, only pulling back when Poe had switched the coms between you to a private channel and using his hardest voice to order you fall back.

Back on base, you had climbed out of your ship with unsteady legs, eyes searching, and he had run toward you and crashed you into his arms. His thoughts consumed by the reality that he’d almost lost you, and he wouldn’t have ever...fuck, he’d have never told you.

He wanted to tell you after that, every day. To admit his feelings, but it never seemed like the right time. After the funerals and debriefings, your nightmares had started and time blurred together into several months. Months of watching you trying to navigate your grief, your pain. He put his needs aside to care for you, to give you whatever you needed.

Telling you he loved you felt too selfish; you were struggling so much already. He couldn’t add another burden.

He padded softly to the room he had shared with you for several years now, the only real place that felt like home anymore. Stepping inside, he quickly pulled on his pyjama bottoms before glancing at your bed to see if you were dreaming yet, or if he could lay down for a while and wait for the telltale whimpers that preceded the worst of them.

Only, your bed was empty.

He stared for a beat at the tangle of sheets, then cast his eyes around the small room. Flicking on a light, he found no note or indication of why you were gone. Your nightmares must have come early tonight, and you’d gotten out of bed. He knew you weren’t in the fresher as he’d just come from there and would have heard another person.

Dropping his towel, he left the room and turned left, knowing exactly where you would have wandered off to so late at night.

He had always been able to predict you, a skill that you despised in him-it brought out your competitive side in training and simulations. And while you were an excellent pilot, you had yet to truly beat him at his own game. While other pilots aspired to be just like you, you were constantly training to be like Poe. It made him proud to watch you work so hard, so stubbornly, never taking a loss too hard before you jumped back in.

Before the surprise attack, you enjoyed competing against one another in everything, always for fun. Some nights at the Cantina, it would be who could go home for the night with the highest-ranking official in attendance. And while Poe felt like he had to work so hard to push his feelings for you back and focus on whoever he was hitting on, he’d always look over at you and feel like you barely had to try. You were just so beautiful, so bright. Any man lucky enough to be charmed by you was a goner-which was why this was often a bet you would win. It seemed to make you laugh when he would hand over the agreed credits the next day, so he never asked to stop.

Now though, you stayed close to Poe if you ventured out, which was rare. Never leaving with anyone and always leaving first. As if you thought he needed you away from him to find someone-but he hadn’t gone home with anyone for a long time now. He didn’t think you knew that, so he’d always leave not long after you, make a point of making a little noise when he entered your shared room, just so you’d know he was there.

Stepping outside, Poe was happy to feel the warmth of the salty air on his bare skin, the moon high in the sky casting a pink glow over the planet, muting the bright stars. He swiftly made his way down a short path around the residential part of the base, a path that led to a small sandy beach where he knew you’d be. You never could resist the ocean, not on any planet that you ventured to that had them.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he was stepping from the trees and spotted you, standing in your sleep clothes, slippers set on a washed-up log and your feet in the water. He watched you silently, not wanting to disturb your quiet moment. You had your arms crossed around your middle, almost as if you were holding yourself together. His heart thrummed in his chest.

When a small sob escaped you and met his ears, Poe moved forward and cleared his throat. “You sleepwalking, kid?” He kept his voice low, tone playfully affectionate as it wrapped around his teasing nickname for you.

You started, “Maker, Poe!” Hissing as you spun around, eyes wide, a hand shooting up to rest over your heart.

Poe grinned, holding his hands up in defence, “Sorry, there’s not really a good way to announce myself in the middle of the night.”

You frowned, though it didn’t meet your eyes. You took careful steps out of the water to move toward him, “Stars, though, you could have made some noise on the pa-oh!”

You gasped when your foot sunk into the sand awkwardly and you fell forward. Immediately, Poe reached out and caught you, lifting you out of the water with ease and stepping back. Setting you on the dry sand in front of him, he gestured at the water, “Were you planning on a midnight swim?”

A brow quirked up as you looked up at him, “I was going to ask you that since you’re the one who's half-naked.” A small smile on your lips had relief sweeping through Poe. He could see the tears on your cheeks still, but he’d managed to make you smile.

He wanted to give a smart reply, only it was late and he had been worried about you, more worried than he’d admit out loud. He glanced down briefly, his arms now at his sides as you stood a few steps apart on the warm beach, “I got back to the room and you were gone, kid.”

You paused, wiping your face after a moment to rub away the tears. You turned away from Poe to gaze out at the water. “I’m still having nightmares.” You admitted, your frown returning.

“I know, honey.”

You glanced back up at him, brows raised in surprise, “That’s not why you’re always up so late, is it? I haven’t been ruining your sleep?” Of course, he thought, of course, you would worry about him. It was so like you. Always putting everything on your shoulders, blaming yourself.

Poe shook his head, “I stay up so I-“ He looked everywhere but at you, trying to find the words, “So I can try and stop the nightmares for you.”

Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly as you stared at him, absorbing his words. Poe shrugged after a moment as if to say it was no big deal. But saying it out loud had Poe realizing that he had gone to great lengths to care for you, which, from the expression on your face, you had realized as well.

“Poe, you already do so much for me, always have,” You stepped closer to him, head back slightly to meet his eyes, “Don’t let me take your sleep-“

“I can’t sleep knowing you’re suffering,” He interrupted, his voice low but firm. He reached out and wrapped his hand around your shoulder, squeezing gently and you froze under his touch. “You’ve been suffering so much since Sira...and I know it’s hard, it’s awful-but watching you be so hard on yourself and closing yourself off from me-I just, I can’t sleep anyway.” It felt kind of good to confess. You needed to know how much he cared.

Tears had leaked out at his words, falling down your soft cheeks as you attempted to blink them away. A small gasp escaped your lips, and then you launched yourself into his arms, pressing yourself against him and trembling as the heavy sobs broke through. Poe held you, one hand moving slowly over your back as the other slide to your hair, gently holding the back of your head. He let you cry, murmuring soft, sweet nothings as you let out the pain and grief, your hands pressed against his bare chest. He pressed his mouth to the top of your head, his own eyes closing as emotions rippled through him. It hurt him to hear your raw, aching sadness. He wished he could do more, take away the pain, go back in time and change everything that happened.

“Sweet girl, I’m here, sweet girl, pretty girl,” He cooed softly as your sobs began to fade, slowly turning to little hiccups. “Right here, never going anywhere, I promise.”

You pulled back slightly in a sudden movement that caught Poe off guard, his arms tightening around you rather than releasing. Just your head moved back, and you met his eyes with the fiercest gaze he’d ever seen, “I can’t ever lose you, Poe, so you better mean that promise!” Your voice was thick with emotion. You slide your hands up to grab the tops of his shoulders, “Please don’t ever leave me.” It came out as a plea, a soft, desperate plea. His heart was beating wildly in his chest now, as he watched the emotions on your face.

Something had changed. It was different out here in the warm night air, alone and emotional, the walls were slipping away, emboldening Poe.

Poe lowered his head toward you, holding your gaze steady, channelling as much into that look as he could. Your name fell from his lips, “Never. Do you know why?”

It was so intense now, his body pressed to yours, he could feel every curve. You were gripping him as tightly as he held you, suspended momentarily in time as you looked at each other.

Your voice was barely a whisper now, “W-why?” He could see that you already understood. He just needed to say it aloud.

The hand on the back of your head tightened, Poe’s lips coming to yours and stopping just short, where he turned his head only ever so slightly to whisper back, “Because I’m yours, sweet girl-always have been. And you’re mine.” You shivered at his words, and then he moved his head back and pressed his lips to yours.

It was the softest he’d ever kissed anyone, but Poe put everything into it. He wanted you to know everything he struggled to say aloud, to know how long he’d wanted to kiss you just like this, how much he cared for you. Your body had stiffened at first, but then you were melting into him. Hands that had been gripping him now sliding up into his hair and forcing his mouth harder against your own.

Poe groaned, keeping one hand in your hair and bringing the other to hold your face, his tongue swiping across your lips eagerly. When you parted them for him, he took his time licking into your mouth, tasting you completely, teasing.

You whimpered in delight, still trembling as he held you.

You were the first to break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his, both of you panting.“Poe, you mean ev-everything to me,” You gasped out, “I love you, always loved you, so, so in love with yo-“

Your sweet words cut off when they overwhelmed Poe with joy and he kissed you again. After a moment, he slid both of his hands down, stopping at your hips, “Let me show you how much I love you, sweet girl.” His voice was deeper now, and he enjoyed the way your eyes seemed to go round as he accentuated his words by leaning slightly and bringing his hands behind your legs, lifting.

Your arms instinctively hooked around his neck as Poe lifted you, legs circling his back. He kissed you again, but pushed at your shirt, his thumb brushing the soft flesh of your stomach as he held you up with one arm. He wanted you, but he needed to make sure you were ready, that you could handle making this leap with him. He let you lead, for the time. You took the hint and removed your shirt, tossing it to the sand. Poe gasped as he gazed at your chest, bringing his lips to your breasts, licking at them before taking a peak gently into his mouth and swirling his hot tongue over it.

“Poe, stars-fuck,” You moaned, arching your chest just slightly toward his eager mouth, trying not to set your precarious position off centre.

Poe grunted, “Hold on to me, going-gonna take these off.” He held your body against his with one arm and used the other to swipe at your shorts, pushing them down. You complied, holding on to him as he adjusted your legs and ripped the shorts off.

His eyes snapped open-you were on a beach. A fucking beach-there was nowhere to safely lay you down. “Fuck, I want to taste you.” He groaned.

A soft whimper slipped out at his delicious words, “Too far, I need you now, wait-waited so long for this...”

Poe’s decision came easily at your words. He pushed his pyjamas down and stepped out of them, before twisting toward the water and walking into it. His feet came to the bath-like water before you noticed what he was doing, and then another needy little moan escaped at the realization of what you were about to do.

Before he lowered you both into the water, he slipped one hand between your bodies and gently trailed his fingers down, dipping into you slowly. Your entire body jerked in response as Poe groaned in delight at how wet you were, “Sweet girl, fuck, so ready for me already.”

“Always,” You replied, kissing under his jaw as your hips rolled a little, clinging to him, “Always thinking about y-you, Poe. Fuck, every guy was just-was nothing, I closed my eyes and thought of you, and w-wished...”

“Fuck, sweet girl,” He carefully moved his fingers, teasing at your pussy while you whimpered out your filthy confession, driving him wild. He slid two inside of you, eyes nearly rolling back at how hot you were, “F-fuck, you’re mine. You know that, sweet girl? Mine.”

“Yes, yours, always yours!”

He pulled his fingers out and adjusted you in his arms, the water lapping at his lower thighs below. His cock pressed up against your slick heat; however, he wanted to taste you first. He brought those fingers to his mouth and you watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he closed his lips around them, immediately groaning at your perfect, sweet taste.

“You taste fucking amazing,” He growled.

And then he was dropping his hands to your hips and lining your bodies up properly, lifting you slightly to allow you to wiggle against him and help wet his cock with your juices. You threw your head back when he began to push the head in, “No, sweet girl look at me, I wanna see your face-only face I ever pictured.” He demanded, his hands tightening their grip.

He watched you work to tilt your head forward, to meet his eyes as he pushed into you, splitting you open, another growl ripping from his chest at how tight you were. It took a few moments to bottom out as he moved slowly, not wanting to hurt you. When your bodies pressed together the sweetest little whimper escaped your lips, your eyes rolling, “Poe, fuckfuckfuck!”

“I know,” He pulled out slightly and quickly rutted back in, earning another whine, “So tight for me, l-like you were fucking made for me, sweet girl. Perfect little cunt.”

“Stars, I’m yours, Poe, only ever yours.”

He grunted, thrusting a few more times before sitting down in the water and pulling you down on him hard. You cried out as he used his hands to lift and drop you repeatedly, almost effortlessly thanks to the water now surrounding you to your lower chests. Your breasts hit the water each time he sunk you onto him and the sensation seemed to only add to your pleasure, your hands carding into his curls and gripping to keep yourself steady. Because he was lifting you, he felt you take control of rolling your hips as he slammed you down, earning grunts and curses, your name on his tongue as the pleasure built between you both.

Poe had never had sex like this, where he felt so entirely connected to the other person. He’d never cared so much for another’s pleasure. Because any other person was always a placebo for you, and no matter how beautiful that person was, he would always close his eyes and picture you when he came. He would have to bite his lip to prevent himself from accidentally moaning your name. Now he could moan your name over and over, and he did.

“P-Poe, uh,” You broke off, trying to keep looking at him as he slammed you down particularly hard and a scream ripped from your lips, the pleasure burning. “You’re gonna make, gonna cum, Poe, Poe, Poe!”

He could feel it, the way your walls tightened around him in soft flutters as your pleasure neared its peak, your entire body trembling in his arms. He brought his mouth to yours, licking inside it sloppily before kissing your jaw, his lips near your ear, “Sweet girl, cum for me, cum for me and put my imagination to fucking shame.”

“F-fuck!” You cried out, your hands squeezing, your head falling slightly back as your mouth popped open and a cry reverberated through your entire body, the wave inside you crashing. Poe didn’t stop moving you, watching your beautiful face as you came, hard, on his cock. Your walls fluttering deliciously around him as he lifted you and slammed you down, one hand bracing your mid-back so that you didn’t fall, so that he could keep watching your face twist in ecstasy.

You quickly became a whimpering mess even as you came down from your high, now entirely unable to form a word of basic. Poe felt himself nearing his release, his thrusts only becoming harder the more you whined for him, “Fuck, so beautiful cumming on my cock,” He grunted, and your eyes met his, tears leaking from the corners and he knew, just knew you were already close again. “Gonna fill you up, sweet girl, fuck. Fill you up and make you mine!”

“Oh, ohohohohoh,” You were fully quivering still as his cock swelled and he thrust as hard as he could, his hands slamming you down and absolutely ripping another orgasm from you as he spilled himself inside of you, filling you with his cum. The pleasure coursed through Poe as he watched you come entirely undone, the reality was a million times better than he ever dreamed. You were fucking perfect. Your pussy milked every last bit of his cum and Poe couldn’t stop shouting your name as spurt after spurt burst from him, his arms forcing you down onto him to take him completely.

Many moments later he came down, his cock still twitching slightly inside of you. You had collapsed into him, all energy spent as you crashed from the second orgasm, from the brutal way he’d fucked you full. Poe held you and carefully dropped his legs, grateful there was no heavy current causing waves. The water was fairly still tonight, and therefore he could brace one hand behind him and the other pressed into your back without worrying he’d fall over.

As you both worked to catch your breath, Poe felt you shift. Sensing your needs, he moved his hips back and slipped from inside you, breathing out at the sensation. He already missed you.

“Poe,” You whispered into his neck, your head resting on his shoulder, “So perfect, that was so perfect.” The genuine happiness in your voice made him smile.

He sat forward, settling you into his lap and bringing your lips to his again, this time taking all the time in the world to lazily kiss you, his hands running across every curve and dip and swell of your body. It was more than sexual, now he was exploring you and memorizing every part, memorizing the spots that made your breath pick up and your mouth become more eager. He enjoyed it when you fought to taste him, your tongue eager to pull small groans from him as you slid over his.

After a short while, he pulled back and met your gaze, catching his breath at your blissful, fucked out expression. Your pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed.

“I love you, sweet girl,” Poe brushed his thumb across your lips. You melted into the touch, sighing in content.

When he swiped again and then began to push his thumb into your mouth, your eyes snapped open in surprise. You instantly closed your lips around him, “Sweet, perfect little girl, you were so good for me.” His gaze was darker now, he knew, as he watched your lips wrap around his thumb. He pulled it back out, his cock twitching. “Such an obedient, perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

Your heavy eyes were knowing, “Only for you. Take me back to our room, Poe.” You purred, and Poe was lifting you out of the water before you finished, a giggle escaping your lips.

Once ashore, he quickly helped you throw on your clothes, nearly tripping as he pulled his pyjama bottoms on in his haste. He saw then that you were shaky on your legs, so he swept you up bridal style and started back inside, grinning down at you as you continued to giggle excitedly.

“Walls are soundproof in there,” He murmured, and you abruptly stopped laughing, your eyes widening in a mix of anticipation and trepidation. “I’m going to spend the rest of the night tasting you.” His grin increasing at the way you gulped, eyes bright, and nodded your head.

“Not getting any sleep tonight, are we, Commander?”

“No, sweet girl, we aren’t.”

Did you enjoy this story? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Thank you 🤍

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zeldas-cigarrette · 3 years

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Now, I’ll drive alone past your street. (Ⅱ)

A/n: This is the sequel to my last post, I couldn’t write any smut, I wasn’t in the mood for it. Just wait for another story in which I’ll definitely include it !!! If you have any requests, feel free to leave them somewhere ^^ And thank you so much for the interaction on my last post:))

Part 1

Word count: 1,635

Warnings: none

Zelda Spellman x female witch reader

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It pained you when sudden thoughts about Zelda flickered in your head. Although you decided on leaving for a while, you missed her, Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina. The wittiness of Hilda when you came down for breakfast, looking like a complete mess. Sabrina when she was onto something, including you in every step of the way. And Ambrose, when he was fuzzing about the mess his younger cousin had caused again.

The sudden ring of your cell phone tore you out of thoughts. Hilda’s caller ID showed up just as it did the past week. You’ve always been too afraid to pick up, scared of listening to her ranting about you letting her sister marry this man. But unlike the other times, the Brit has called, now you were brave enough to answer the call. Maybe Zelda fulfilled her task and became High Priestess?

„Y/n, I tried to reach you all week” Hilda hastily explained. „I know, I know but-“

„There is no time for explanations, you need to come back. Something’s wrong with Zelda” she cut you off while unsteadily breathing into the speaker.

You hesitated to speak, not being sure what you shall say. You loved the red-headed witch too much to let her suffer. „I’ll be there Hilda,” you said and quickly ended the conversation.

You knew it was about time to go back and fight for your love and show Father Blackwood who’s in charge.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

It didn’t take long for you to teleport you back to the mortuary, you left a few of your belongings where you’d stayed. You took a deep breath before knocking on the red front door. The familiar scent of your friends home crept up your nose and you started to loosen your tension. „Praise Satan you’re here, come in quick” the British woman rambled and pulled you inside.

„What’s going on?” You asked curiously. „My sister has changed during her honeymoon, it’s just as if she’s under some kind of spell.”

You nodded and hung your coat onto one of the hooks. „She does everything Blackwood asks her, Zelda would do anything to protect our family and now that bloke tries harms us and she just agrees with everything” Hilda explained and you knew immediately what she was trying to say. „And, Ambrose is said to have killed the Anti Pop. Nicholas Scratch helped him get away before Blackwood could lay his hands on him” she added pulling a grimacing face.

„I will go to the academy and inspect the situation myself, we will fix this mess” you tried to reassure her. The witch nodded and led you into the kitchen where the two cousins sat, pondering over how to help her aunt. „You’re back Y/n!” Sabrina exclaimed and hugged you tightly. A smile formed on your lips. Deep down you were happy to be back even though it took you some time to realise.

The darkness slowly came over Greendale and millions of stars peppered the night sky. „I will head to the academy and see what happened to your aunt and in which condition she is” you informed them and drummed your fingers on the tabletop. „Be careful, Blackwood is crazy at the moment. His misogyny went up to a new level” the young witch rambled worriedly. „I’ll take care.”

You grabbed your coat before leaving the house, inhaling the sweet scent that lingered in the house once more.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Arriving at the academy, a weird feeling spread in your gut. You entered the school for witches and warlocks, having an exact destination to where you wanted to go. You walked through the halls of the academy searching for either Zelda or Blackwood. A sharp pain shot through your arm when a hand grabbed you and pulled you into a room.

The facet of the person immediately let you know who it was. „Blackwood” you explained and freed yourself from his tight grip. „You ought not to be here” the sharp tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine. „I came to speak to Zelda.”

He eyed me. „Wife!” The High priest yelled and waited impatiently for Zelda to come. Seconds passed before a woman in a flower dress entered the room. „Would you give us a few minutes?” your voice thickly filled with annoyance. The warlock just nodded and left the room.

„Zelds, what happened?”

„I don’t know what you mean?” her voice almost pitching. „Honey, you can tell me” your hand reached for hers. „But there is nothing to tell. If you excuse me now, I ought to make tea for my beloved husband.”

Her words sounded surreal, fake just simply not like Zelda. A hopeless sigh escaped your lips, you should’ve told her how wrong it was to marry that bloke. The only thing to hear was the sound of her music box.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

„It’s like she’s a doll” you took a sip of water before continuing, „no free will, and devoted to someone she said she’d overthrow.”

Hilda’s gaze wandered through the room. Footsteps echoed through the Spellman house, both of you looked at each other before stepping in the hallway.

You two saw her walking in the kitchen having her hand draped over something. Hilda followed her sister closely. The next thing you heard was high pitched screams from Sabrina who must’ve been in the kitchen. Your legs moved as fast as they could to see what was happening. Zelda stood there, wounding a mouse through the meat grinder. „Aunt Zel, why did you do that? That was our only chance to save Ambrose?” Sabrinas said stunned while her mouth fell agape.

I didn’t know what she was talking about, but surely Leviathan, who now was just a mashed version of itself, played its role in it. „I think I know what’s going on!“ Hilda exclaimed and it looked just as if a light bulb appeared over her head. „Sabrina, you have to get that music box from Zelda’s room in the Academy“ her aunt explained. The teenage witch nodded. Her aunt expected her to leave but that wasn’t the case, she somewhat teleported the box.

Zelda just stood there, staring at the mashed familiar. You couldn’t deny the fact that you were curious about how she teleported a box to her, but you suppressed the thought until you knew what was going on with your toner girlfriend. „Open it up darling” Hilda demanded her niece, „this has to be some kind of Caligari spell.” „What spell?” You asked genuinely interested. „A spell, typically used by old warlocks, to turn their wives into conscious witches aware of every action, yet, unable to make their own choices” the Brit explained and pulled out a photo of the music box.

„Just smash it and our Zelda should be freed from the spell,” Hilda told Sabrina who now held the picture in her hands. With a loud thud, the glass of the frame was broken, leaving a confused Zelda. You saw her facial expression change when she laid eyes on you. „Zelda is it you?” you asked nearly on the verge of tears.

You knew how stupid it was, leaving her alone with the whole situation, telling her she was better off without you. „Y/n...” the woman stuttered not daring to look away from you. You couldn’t contain your happiness and relive of having her back, you stepped closer and hugged her in a hurry. Her hands instantly sneaking around your waist, pressing you close to her body.

„I was an idiot, Zelda Spellman and I am sorry for how I behaved” you whispered in her ear. Her red locks were spreading on your face, you inhaled her scent. „Don’t worry, I must admit it was my fault too. How could I ask my girlfriend if I could marry another guy?" she mumbled in your shoulder and pressed yourself just a little closer to her body. „Alright, lovebirds” Sabrina sighed and let herself fall back on one of the kitchen chairs.

You loosened your hug and drew back to look at her. „Why don’t we get you something proper to wear?” You suggested and eyed her flower dress. „Satan, wearing this dress the whole time, internally drove me mad” Zelda admitted and tugged on the hem of her dress.

You took her hand in yours and softly moved your thumb over her skin. The fiery woman was broken, you saw it in her green eyes. Gently, you pulled her after you, scared she might break if you’d do it more hastily. Arriving in front of her bedroom door, you were hesitant if she’d even want you to come in put she slightly pushed you towards the door. „Don’t blame yourself, you had every right to leave. I wouldn’t want to see how you marry someone else” the witch remarked after a long silence. „I just feel like I could’ve prevented you from the pain,” you told her.

Zelda just shook her head and patted next to her on the bed. You followed her plea and sat next to the witch, staring down at your hands. „I haven’t told you this for weeks now, but I love you,” the older woman said and took your hand into hers. You slowly placed your head on her shoulder. „I love you too, but never ever marry anyone again as long as we are together” you had to add that. „Never” she mouthed before planting soft kisses along your jawline. „As dominant as ever” you giggled before the woman pressed you down on the bed beneath.

The room was filled with ecstasy and lust after Zelda was finished pleasuring you. You snuggled closer to her chest, not daring to leave her side again. Zelda’s red locks covering your face once more, made you feel comfortable with falling asleep. ‘You’ll be there for her on every step of the way, no matter how much strength it may take’ you thought to yourself before sleep hit you.

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#zelda spellman x reader #zelda spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos #wlw love #wlw #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #sapphic #greendale #caos imagine #madam satan #fanfic #fanfiction

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lilbabycee · 4 years

Text

bunny // steve rogers (part one) 🐰

READ PART TWO

↳ summary: the reader finds herself in a little bit of trouble... financially. enter steve rogers.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x brat!reader

↳ word count: 5.6k

↳ warnings: sugar baby au, eventual dark steve, daddy kink, eventual smut, mentions of substance abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms + relationships, the reader is rich and a little bit of a bitch

↳ author’s note: i started writing this series ages ago but i’m thinking that maybe posting it on here will give me the inspiration to continue! please enjoy! ❤️

chapter one: you expensive you know that?

—

" you expensive, you know that?

i'm high-maintenance a little but not in a, not in a negative way

i just like extremely expensive things"

- faithful, drake

—

“But Daddy-!”

“No, absolutely not,” your father shuts you down without hesitation which immediately makes your eyes water.

“Please, I promise I won’t do it again-”

“That’s what you said the last time,” he reminds you nonchalantly and you can hear the rapid clicking of a keyboard in the background of the call. He’s not even paying full attention to you, likely still working on whatever the CEO of a multi- billion dollar corporation needs to work on.

“But I’m serious this time!” you insist, cocking a hip and tapping your acrylics loudly on the top of your marble kitchen counter. “You know what I’m like - I swear I’ll do better this time-”

“Nope,” his hard tone cuts you off as you hear his office phone ring. He sighs loudly over the receiver which makes your heart fall. “Look, honey-”

You know what’s coming and you can’t even try to stop it.

“-I’ve got another call coming in. I’m not sending you another dime until you can prove to me that you have the ability to be financially independent. I didn’t pay for all of those expensive private schools so that you could sit on your ass all day and blow my money like it’s in endless supply. You have all the necessary credentials to go and get a well-paying job, so go get one, goddammit. And please call your mother - she’s been trying to call you all day. Neither of us have any time left to entertain your little addictions nor your blatant disregard for the hard work that we’ve put in to get you where you are today.

“You’ve proven to me before that you are grossly incapable of doing even the simplest of tasks, so don’t let me down with this one,” he sighs loudly. “Sometimes, I wish you were more like my colleagues’ kids - they’re doctors and lawyers but all you are is ungrateful. I’ve really gotta take this call,” he says your name sternly which makes you tap your nails even faster. “Do as you’re told for once in your damn life.”

“Daddy-!” you borderline shriek once more before the phone clicks and he’s off attending to more important business.

You don’t even realize that you’re pouting until your lips start to tremble, nor do you realize how much his words have gotten to you until you touch your cheek gently with your fingertips and they come back wet and glistening like gold in the warm light of day.

Maybe he’s right. You’ve been living in this penthouse for the past year without having to worry about anything. You loved it when you attended the first viewing, mainly because of the huge windows, three bedrooms and bathrooms (that you definitely don’t need because you live alone), the open plan, spacious kitchen and living areas, and the fact that all of your neighbors are either famous or excessively wealthy like you. You saw the acquirement of this apartment as a prime opportunity to further climb the social ladder, not that it’s really all that hard for you considering the fact that your father is one of the richest people in not only New York but the entire country. But you’d lived in Italy for a year prior to moving back to New York and upon your return to the USA, you decided that you really wanted to re-establish a name for yourself here, of course with the help of your father. He bought the penthouse almost the moment that you said you had your eye on it, and he just kind of…left you here. He’s only come to visit a handful of times since you bought it two years ago, though your mother has been over far more frequently to your utter dismay.

You inhale deeply through your nose, your eyelash extensions fluttering dramatically against your cheekbones. Grabbing your phone - the newest iPhone that you bought after you broke your other one at your friend Peter’s party - you sulk over to one of your ridiculously overpriced couches and fall dramatically - but not dramatically enough to crease the material of your latest drunk purchase, a white Gucci jumpsuit - on top of all your throw pillows, the picture of a damsel in distress. Your freshly manicured toes - painted white yesterday - curl into the softness of it as you huff, dabbing delicately at your face again to rid yourself of any traces of sadness before thinking about what the hell you’re going to do next.

Yes, you have a savings account that is far more than enough for you and your grandchildren’s grandchildren to live lavish lives and while that’s all well and good, even you know that you probably shouldn’t spend that... but it’d have to do until you found another way to get your money. With that, you shrug noncommittally and your face ID unlocks your phone so that you can start your newest endeavor - buying one of everything off of Alexander Wang.

Sure, you should be proactive and take initiative to finally take the steps to distance yourself from your parents, but you’ve only just had your twentieth birthday. After graduating from high school at fifteen - yes, fifteen: your parents really pushed you, to say the least, and it helped that you were naturally intelligent beyond the capabilities of even the nation’s best high school teachers - you started your undergraduate at Harvard in the fall and finished at eighteen. You took what you dubbed an ‘extended summer vacation’ - hence Italy - and now you’re at an impasse.

Okay, admittedly your various interests - you refuse to call them addictions because they’re really not that serious - that may or may not include a wide array of party drugs and alcohol probably don’t make you the most trustworthy person in the eyes of your parents. But you’ve done everything that they’ve told you to do for the past twenty years of your life - can they blame a girl for wanting to have a little fun? A smile spreads across your face as, while scrolling, you spy the blue dad jeans that were completely out of stock just last week and quickly add them to your cart with a sense of self-satisfaction before continuing to add almost everything else to your bag. It’s not like you’re heavily dependent on anything - substance abuse is not a good look for you: it was definitely more early 2000s than now - and you only do them recreationally in social situations, so your parents really have nothing to worry about. They’re overly paranoid about you somehow tarnishing their image when in reality, your work in and outside of an academic setting has really bolstered their reputation more than they could have ever hoped for - not to toot your own metaphorical horn, but your endless philanthropic work coupled with your eagerness to “make a change” and your work in fashion has put you on the Forbes 30 Under 30 every year since you were fifteen.

You press the checkout button and your Apple Pay seamlessly completes the purchase for you: $29,000. Shrugging noncommittally, you lock your phone and stare pensively at the picturesque view of New York City outside of your window; that is until Alexa alerts you that Natasha is calling you.

Perfect timing.

Natasha’s voice echoes over the loudspeakers in the ceiling. “Hey, bunny,” she greets you and you groan loudly at the nickname, restlessly hopping up to grab a glass of water from your kitchen.

“Hey Nat,” you reply, more of a whine than anything else, and she laughs loudly at your tone.

“What happened to you? “

“Daddy cut me off,” you huff, walking to the couches in front of the TV and settling down with your glass of water. With a press of a few buttons on the universal remote, you FaceTime your best friend instead - a flash of red hair and then a blindingly white smile. She assesses you on your couch and laughs again, a full-bodied cackle that only intensifies your pout.

“It’s not funny,” you protest, although the corners of your lips are quirking up in amusement at her ridiculous laughter.

“What did I tell you?” Natasha struggles to get the words out in between chuckles. “I knew he was gonna do this-”

“Yeah, so did I, but I didn’t think he’d do it this soon-!”

“I’m surprised he didn’t do it sooner,” Natasha moves around a little before propping her phone up against her knees so that you can see her sitting comfortably in her bed. She starts picking at her own black acrylics, “and you can’t deny, bunny-”

“Don’t say I deserve this,” you narrow your eyes at her, and Natasha only sends you her signature smirk.

“I wouldn’t say you deserve it, per se,” Natasha begins, “but you’ve gotta admit,” she says your name, clearly on the verge of laughter again, “I like a party as much as the next girl, but you do go a little overboard-”

“I wouldn’t say overboard,” you insist, suddenly taking up a very keen interest in your cuticles. “Here’s what it is: Mother doesn’t like the fact that I don’t like her and Daddy’s just flat out disappointed in me for no reason-”

“-apart from the fact that you very nearly got caught doing lines of blow off of Senator Pierce’s son-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupt her, closing your eyes and pressing a finger to your lips while shaking your head, unable to fight the growing grin on your face. “That was one time-”

“You mean the one time you got caught-?”

“Yes, Natasha, that’s what I mean. Anyway - you never call me like this unless you need something - thought you were gonna text me instead. What’s up? Is it Bru-”

“Oh, no,” Natasha quickly cuts you off, her cheeks flushing red. “Bruce and I have been over for a while now-”

“You were just talking about him last week-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she deflects, tapping her fingers on her thigh. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to go shopping for Parker’s party that’s tonight-?”

“Yes, absolutely yes - why would you even have to ask-?”

“Okay, cool,” she interrupts you, smiling toothily. “Get Jarvis to get you there by 2:30 - I wanna go to the Louis store: the summer collection just dropped-”

“Sounds perfect-”

“But one more thing,” she says your name again but in a more concerned tone. You finish your glass of water and set it on the coffee table before leaning forward slightly.

“What’s going on, Nat?”

“I’m worried about you, bunny,” both her eyes and her tone have softened drastically, making you purse your lips. “What’re you gonna do now that your dad’s not giving you any more money?”

You sigh loudly through your nose, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Nat,” you admit, snapping a hair tie against the skin of your wrist rapidly. “I’ll just have to find a job - or do more sponsorships and ads and get back into modeling and maybe actually try acting this time?”

Her green eyes pin you to your couch, even through the screen, and she scrutinizes your face for almost a full thirty seconds before scrunching up her nose and nodding hesitantly. “Alright. As long as you’re sure that you can make it work… because if not, I have an option that I think you may like…”

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline as you motion for her to continue.

“Y’know how Wanda got really into that thing a couple of years ago?”

Your brain works overtime, trying to remember exactly what it was that Wanda was doing - all you remember is that it was fairly secretive and she didn’t tell you a lot about why she kept sneaking around.

“She was seeing that older guy,” you snap your fingers when you remember, Natasha’s slow nod confirming it, and then promptly frown because-

“What does this have to do with me?” You stare directly into Natasha’s eyes as she falters, obviously wondering if it’s too late to just backtrack altogether - yes, it is - and then she sighs.

“She wasn’t just seeing him,” your best friend starts slowly, choosing her words with great care, “she was his sugar baby.”

Now, this is news to you.

“You’re fucking with me,” you scoff in disbelief. “Wanda?”

Natasha keeps nodding, blowing her bubblegum between her rouge-painted lips until it pops with a sharp snap. “I’m serious, you can go ask her. But believe me, I was just as surprised as you when she first told me-”

“She didn’t tell me,” you murmur, something akin to betrayal burning your tear ducts. Natasha only barks out a laugh and clucks her tongue at you in a decidedly motherly way.

“Of course she didn’t tell you,” the redhead snorts, shaking her head. “She didn’t want you getting any ideas,” she says your name through a laugh, “you were - what - like eighteen two years ago? That would’ve been questionable at best -”

“But you guys didn’t know that I was gonna do anything-”

“Come on, bunny,” Natasha pins you with a look that shuts you up almost immediately. “Give us some credit - we’re not dumb and we know you-”

“Fine,” you drag out the last syllable of the word childishly. “So why mention it to me now?”

“Because you’re old enough… and in a situation where your Daddy’s not paying for any of your stuff anymore.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Yeah, okay, but I’ve got, like, a lot of other opportunities that I don’t even need to work for,” you tell her cockily, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “Why should I take this one when I could get any other real job so easily?”

Natasha’s lips curve into that same smirk. “Because you’re a whore.”

You collapse into a fit of giggles but she’s right. Really and truly, you are - what you like to call - a self-proclaimed slut. But any woman who’s free enough in her sexuality seems to be one these days, so you own the title that’s been hurled at you like an insult for so many years. You wear it with pride... for the most part, but not too much pride because you still have parents who still - somehow - think you’re a total virgin.

(you are still a virgin but your promiscuity makes people think otherwise)

“Right,” you agree easily, tapping your nails on the arm of the couch.

“Just something for you to think about,” Natasha hums, checking the time on her watch before rubbing the sleeve of her white Balenciaga hoodie over her face “Now, leave me alone. I’ve gotta go get ready; I’ll see you in a few.”

Without any further conversation, she ends the call and leaves you laughing light-heartedly although something heavy continues to weigh on your conscience. A sugar daddy. You can’t lie to yourself and say that it’s something that you’ve never thought about before - because it most definitely is - and it’s been the shameless subject of some of your filthiest dreams. Are you going to lie and say that you don’t have an… affinity for older men? No, you aren’t. Are you gonna tell yourself that the idea of a man spoiling you doesn’t make heat burn in your core? Absolutely not. However, you’ve never thought of yourself as the submissive type. Your confidence - no, cockiness has always been a real defining trait for you and that’s always worked in your favor when it comes to romance or even sex. You take what you want, rather than waiting for it to come to you. Although, you have a feeling that an attitude like that could get you in a lot of trouble in circumstances like these.

But what’s life without a little danger?

—

You’ve put on a tight, cropped black t-shirt and on top, a brown Fendi mini dress with thin spaghetti straps that clings to your body like a second skin; your feet are clad in heeled Louboutin ankle boots. Grabbing your black Prada bag and almost comically giant black, square Burberry sunglasses, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You only put on a little bit of blush, mascara, and tinted lipgloss, accessorizing with small golden hoops, an array of rings that have been gifted to you by either your father or your ex-boyfriends and a simple gold necklace that spells out ‘bunny’ in cursive, a gift from Natasha. Satisfied, you slide your sunglasses onto your face and head to the elevator, phone in hand.

When you reach the lobby, Jarvis is waiting for you, holding the door open with a kind smile on his face.

“Miss,” he greets you, ushering you out the door. You basically jump on him, winding your arms around his neck and he chuckles as you sway back and forth in your embrace.

“Afternoon, Jarvis,” you grin at him.

The two of you walk outside to the black Range Rover with the tinted windows - black matches your outfit today - and as you climb in the back, your security detail split up into the other SUVs in front and behind you.

“So, what’s the plan today?” Jarvis asks you conversationally, stopping at a red light not even 15 seconds after you pull away from the front of your apartment. Damn New York traffic.

“Nat and I are going to Nordstrom’s,” you tell him despite the fact that he already knows, but he nods regardless. “And then Peter Parker’s hosting a party tonight.”

“And will you be needing a ride to that event?”

“No thanks, J,” you shoot him a smile before looking back down at your phone. “I’ll probably get a ride with Natasha.”

Jarvis nods and the rest of the ride passes in comfortable silence, the radio playing softly and the clicking of your nails on your phone screen the only sounds in the car.

—

“There’s absolutely no way you’re wearing that-”

“Shut up, Nat!” you squeal, grabbing the dress off the rack. “It’s kinda cute!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes at you fondly, staring at the monstrosity that you’re clutching in your hands.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” she deadpans, searching your face almost desperately for any sign of sarcasm.

You act offended: “I’m not!”

Nat just pokes you in the sides, tugs on your earlobe, and continues her hunt, which makes you burst into loud laughter and leaves the store employees looking at the two of you in what you’ve come to recognize as contained, professional amusement.

—

It’s about an hour before the party starts when you even start thinking about getting ready. In a Versace robe with your hair wrapped up in a towel, you’re scrolling through Instagram with a mud mask on. Nat comes into the room and shrieks at the sight of your face, making you flick your eyes up and grin as wide as the mask lets you. With her hand over her heart, she stares at you dryly while silent little chuckles shake your whole body.

“You’re in a good mood,” she remarks, eyeing you with an air of suspicion.

“Of course I am, Nat,” you look at her in disbelief. “I’m about to get wasted tonight-”

She interrupts you by calling your name out in a warning tone. Your only response is a dramatic roll of your eyes.

“We’re going so that we can have fun, not so you can go on a bender-”

“I won’t!” you drop your phone and throw your hands up in exasperation. “Holy shit, Mom - do you have no confidence in me?!”

Loud silence hangs in the air for a minute while Nat just blinks at you.

“...remember when you left me alone in Manhattan because you went to go trip on acid with Senator Coulson’s son-”

“Oh my God, Nat, okay, I get it - I’m a shitty friend and a drug addict, blah blah blah, whatever-”

“You’re not an addict,” she corrects you. “You just... really like doing drugs.”

You shrug, stretching your arms over your head, bringing them back down and then slapping your hands loudly on the bare skin of your thighs. The sound makes Nat flinch which amuses you mildly before you yawn loudly.

“Need me to help you with anything before I start getting ready?” you offer, knowing that once you start getting ready, you’re going to be in your own little world for about an hour and a half.

Natasha - who is significantly less high-maintenance than you - shakes her head. You nod, standing up and heading into her bathroom to wash the mud off your face.

“Did you think about what I told you earlier?” she asks, following you into the spacious room to lay on the chaise tucked against the wall behind you. You lock eyes with her in the mirror as she stretches herself out like a feline.

“Yeah,” you say nonchalantly. “Just for a little, but I don’t know if that kinda thing is for me.”

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, looking down at her nails. “Oh, okay. I was just wondering ‘cause Wanda said there would be some people that she knows are into that kinda thing at Parker’s tonight-”

Oh, now your interest is peaked. You whip around, towel still in hand from drying your face, and stare her dead in the eye.

“For real?”

“Yeah, but if you’re not really interested-”

“Shut up, Natasha, you know I’m interested.” Your heart beats fast in your chest and your teeth catch on your lower lip, gnawing on it gently. Your fingers come back up to your wrist and stretch the elastic so that it bounces back against your skin. “Like… a lot of them will be there?”

She nods, regarding you with cool interest. “At least that’s what Wanda said. She’s better versed in this whole thing than I am.”

You can only bob your head up and down, suddenly nervous about attending this party. Natasha can sense it, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“Look, bunny, it’ll be fine,” she gives you a reassuring smile. “They’ll love you. And if you change your mind, you won’t even have to interact with them in the first place; you’ll just be like any other person attending this thing. But Wanda knows a lot of them - that should be reassuring enough: she knows all about these guys, so it’s not like she’s going to introduce us to any major creeps.”

“Okay.”

—

“Okay,” you breathe out. Okay, you can do this. You’ve met presidents and prime ministers, singers and actors, kings and queens, but you’ve never been this nervous in your entire life.

Granted, none of those people were asking you to exchange sex for money, so it’s not really the same thing.

You’re wearing Dolce & Gabbana tonight - because they asked you to - and the golden silk dress that hits your mid-thigh and hugs your body so tight that it looks as if you were poured into it makes it all worth it. It shows off all of the dips and curves of your body and paired with your Alexander Vauthier clear slingback heels and a gold Vanina pearl-embellished handbag, you feel like a million dollars (even though that’s definitely not what this outfit costs). Natasha is standing next to you in a black Dolce & Gabbana corset dress - because they asked her to - and black red bottoms.

Your long red nails come up to toy with your ‘bunny’ necklace while you scan the massive crowds for a friendly face. It’s true that between the two of you, it is very much likely that you know - or know of - everybody here. But you don’t spare them a second glance despite the fact that they’re ogling you. No, you don’t linger on the bulging muscles and impressive height nor the full lips and pretty hair like you usually do. Instead, you’re looking for-

“Wanda! ” you call out, eyes falling on her reddish-brown hair flowing down her back in loose waves.

She’s standing by the bar, speaking to someone that you don’t know when she turns around, blue eyes quickly landing on you as she gives you that charming smile. Grabbing Nat’s hand, you run over to her and envelop her in a warm embrace. She squeals loudly, stumbling back as you realize that she’s probably already had a few drinks by now.

“Hi, guys,” she greets the two of you, looking up and down at your outfits approvingly. “You look hot.”

You return the compliment and pressing a kiss to her cheek, you stroke her hair while she and Nat engage in conversation. You take the opportunity to stare at all of the different groups of people who have gathered on Peter’s rooftop. There must be at least 300 people here already - the night has barely started - and you can see not a single person who looks like an old man. You furrow your brow, squinting and pushing up on your toes to see if you can see anyone that you don’t vaguely recognize from somewhere or another.

“Lookin’ for someone?”

The voice is unmistakable.

“Peter!”

He says your name in what’s only a mildly offensive mockery of your tone. You abandon Wanda and throw yourself into the arms of the boy, ruffling his already unkempt hair and also smacking a loud kiss on his cheek. He chuckles, his arm winding around your waist as he says hello to both Wanda and Nat.

Apparently you’re in a hugging mood tonight.

“I’m glad you guys could all make it,” he smiles so sweetly that you kiss him again, his cheeks turning flaming red. Peter has always been like a little brother to you although he’s actually a year older. You both went to high school and college together, and it helps that your mother and his aunt are also really good friends.

Except you don’t know how anybody could want to be friends with your demon of a mother.

“We couldn’t miss this,” Wanda gestures around her, pinching Peter on the cheek like a child which makes him frown. “Where’s MJ, Petey?”

You all “ooh” like high schoolers and Peter’s face turns somehow even redder - your heart swells - and he takes this as his cue to leave, slipping away and mumbling something about having to greet guests like a good host. It makes you all giggle, watching the boy with fond eyes.

Wanda abruptly turns to you, downing the champagne that she picks up off of the tray of one of the passing waiters.

“So Nat told me that you’re looking for a sugar daddy-”

“Shhh!” you hiss at her, clamping your hands tightly over her mouth because oh my god, Wanda, please speak louder. This makes Natasha laugh into her own glass of champagne.“Oh my god, why are you yelling?”

“Okay,” she drags it out and rolls her eyes, leaning into your group of three and whispering exaggeratedly. “So I heard you’re looking for a sugar daddy.”

“Sure, okay,” you whisper back, looking around before standing up straight because it’s just occurred to you how sketchy you all must look huddled in a circle like this. “So like… how does this work? Do we just… go up to them? Is there like some kind of code-?”

Wanda snorts loudly, throwing her head back and laughing. Your face slips into a pout and you cross your arms over your chest.

“No, idiot,” Wanda replies, pulling a tube of lipstick and a mirror out of her clutch. She starts to apply it while speaking to you. “They’re here already, and we’ve just gotta go up to them,” she smacks her lips together with finality, “and tell them we’re interested. Or, more like you’re going up to them and we’re here for moral support.”

“What happened to your guy, Wanda?” Nat asks, signaling to the bartender for a refill.

“And how did you get into it?” you ask her, one eyebrow quirking.

She smiles conspiratorially and runs her hands carefully through her hair. “There’s an app. And Viz and I are still together-”

“Viz? ” you almost choke on your own spit because you laugh so hard. Natasha joins you in a far more respectful way, her shoulders shaking as she picks up her now-full glass. Getting literal daggers thrown at your face would’ve been less piercing than the look that Wanda’s giving you right now, so you decide to shut your mouth and listen.

“Yes,” she says your name condescendingly, which makes you roll your eyes. “His name is Vision - it’s a long, personal story that I won’t share with either of you because you both fucking suck,” she stares the two of you down, “but that’s his nickname and what everyone calls him. It’s kinda cool, you know: super contemporary. Like Madonna or Beyoncé or Cher-”

“Okay,” Natasha licks her lips, putting one of her hands on her hip. “We get it, Wanda, thanks. But you told us that you guys broke up-?”

“Yeah, we just took a break,” Wanda shrugs. “Now, we’re back together and better than ever.”

You and Nat share a look before blinking back at Wanda, nodding your heads compliantly.

“So,” you rock back on your heels and start snapping your hair tie again. “Are we gonna go do this, or?”

Wanda’s eyes drift down to your wrist before she places a hand on top of it, stilling your actions. Your eyes are wide and glossy, your teeth worrying your lip.

“What’re you nervous about?” Wanda begins quietly, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb. “They’ll love you - they’re all super cool and really hot. I think that the only problem that you’ll have is that you’ll be spoilt for choice.”

Your laugh comes out watery but sincere nonetheless, so Wanda loops her arm through yours while Natasha grips your hand tightly.

“Maybe we should get you a drink-”

“No, Nat,” you inhale deeply. “I wanna be completely sober for this. After… after, yeah. I’m definitely gonna need a drink after.”

You all laugh while Wanda weaves you through swathes of socialites, stopping to say hello to some people. When you finally make your way all the way to the other end of the roof, you can see why you didn’t see them before. There is a set of stairs that lead down to what looks like a zen garden. Tall torches flame a collection of very comfortable-looking couches are placed around a stone firepit and on top of those couches are a group of some of the most handsome men that you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The first one to make eye contact with you is astoundingly attractive, so much so that you almost trip over your own feet. You know- you can just tell that he smells incredible. His mahogany skin shines in the light of the fire, and his full lips curve over a gap-toothed smile that he shoots your way; it immediately makes a smile of your own spread on your face. His beard is lined up to perfection and there’s a mischievous sparkle in his whiskey brown eyes. A little bit of his chest hair pokes out from underneath the top of his almost halfway-unbuttoned dress shirt and your mouth waters. You almost feel sorry for the slacks that are hugging his thighs sinfully tight because his powerful legs look like they’re about to burst through the seams.

You decide that you’ve never wanted to be a pair of pants so badly in your life.

Jesus Christ. These men aren’t even close to what I expected.

All you can say is that you’re glad to see that the same caliber of attractiveness holds up for the rest of them.

The man next to him has longer brunette hair that hits his shoulders and you just want to run your hands through the silky strands. He has a bit more of a rugged look, his facial hair groomed purposely to give off that energy. He’s wearing a tight, long-sleeve black shirt and black slacks too, the monochrome outfit highlighting every inch of his well-toned body. When you look at him, he’s staring down into his glass, the sweetest smile on his face that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. But then he looks up at you, and you’re taken aback by the vibrance of his steel-blue eyes. It stops your breath momentarily, and you have time to regain it when he taps the man next to him on the knee and points towards the three of you.

The man in question raises his head, face shielded partially by a pair of yellow-tinted glasses. His blonde hair is slicked back away from his face, and you take a second to admire his prominent bone structure. But he’s looking right past you, eyes boring holes into Wanda which makes you stop your ogling.

You assume that this must be Vision.

There’s one of the men who isn’t facing you and doesn’t even turn around to do so, but you can make out his extremely broad shoulders clad in a white t-shirt even from where you stand a distance away. Even the back of his head is attractive, his thick neck and pushed-back blonde hair. Wanda tugs on your arm impatiently, evidently eager to reach her man.

The three of you linked together almost fall down the stairs before you regain your collective composures and strut over there with all the confidence that you don’t feel. Wanda lets you and Nat go when you draw closer, fixing her hair before the brightest grin that you’ve ever seen on her face shines at Vision. He opens his arms to greet her and you have to look away because of the very much x-rated kiss that she plants on him: you feel like you’re intruding on something.

“Jesus,” Nat snorts in your ear, her hand still resting in yours. This makes you giggle, high-pitched and nervously, so Nat squeezes your hand before she pulls you forwards.

Wanda has situated herself in the lap of her man, his hand resting gently on her hip. She clears her throat, cheeks red from her public display of affection, and begins to speak.

“Hi, guys,” she says, waving and smiling at all the men politely. They all greet her back warmly, raising their hands too. “These are my best friends. This is Nat,” she gestures to the girl next to you and Nat just nods her head in acknowledgment.

“And this is the friend I told you about,” Wanda introduces you by name to the four men who she points at in turn: “Bunny, this is Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Vision, and Steve Rogers.”

Giving a little awkward wave of your hand, you unglue your eyes from the floor and scan all of the men up close now.

They’re all so much prettier up close.

From this distance, you can now clearly see how pretty Sam’s eyes are, how bright Bucky’s smile is, how strong Vision’s jaw is, and-

Holy shit.

It’s obvious that you must’ve died and gone to heaven some time in these past few minutes because Adonis’ blue eyes are scorching holes into your face. His high-neck white long sleeve sweater is probably in his size but the way that his muscles flex under the material is telling you otherwise. The size of his biceps - probably as big as your head - briefly make you wonder what they would feel like wrapped around your neck-

If you stare hard enough at his pecs - which you are - you can see the hard peaks of his nipples; you decide that there’s something so sensual about that and if that alone didn’t just make you wet, you decide that you can’t be human. The sweater is tucked into grey checkered pants with a black Yves Saint Laurent belt wrapped around his surprisingly narrow waist. He’s leaning back in his seat with his huge hands on his thighs, his strong legs spread wide almost an invitation for you to crawl between them. Your eyes move past his clearly tailored pants to his huge feet clad in black Versace loafers and you can feel the liquid that pools in your cunt. Realizing that you’re shamelessly checking this poor man out, your eyes snap up to his face only to have the breath completely knocked out of you, not for the first time tonight.

Not only is his body complete perfection, but his face is also arguably even better. His defined jawline gives you the urge to run your tongue over it but that beard. Your squeeze your thighs together because you want to know how it feels between your thighs. His ears are perfectly proportional to his head - a characteristic that should never be underestimated, mind you - and his cheekbones are high. But you can’t ignore the fullness nor the rosy pigmentation of his lips - his lower lip is fuller than the top and you wanna bite it so bad and he’s smirking a little. When you finally lock eyes with him, you feel as if you’re drowning but admittedly even if you were, you wouldn’t mind doing so in the blue of his irises. They darken slightly when they train onto yours, and one of his perfect eyebrows lifts questioningly.

This whole interaction has only lasted about five seconds but it feels like you’re in a movie, everything moving in slow motion. He stands up abruptly and you do actually choke at his size, his sheer height and width alone soaking your panties. One hand in his pocket, he takes slow, measured steps until he stands directly in front of you, not even sparing a glance at Natasha.

“Bunny, huh?” you pray that your knees won’t give out at his deep baritone and you can’t take your eyes away from his, even when he sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Steve Rogers.”

tagged: @literaturefeen @donutloverxo @evnscvll @stargazingfangirl18

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #sugar daddy au #soft dark steve rogers

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just-like-playing-tag · 3 years

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A totally self indulgent compilation of my favorite works on this blog of the year June 13, 2020 - June 13, 2021

2019-2020

The following lists are all in chronological order according to the date each post was first published.

Top 10 panel edits:

#1: It's our first morning

Date: Aug 20th, 2020 Time: ~ 2:18 h I really like how this one turned out!!! The 2020 Emma b-day edit has a lot of major panel redraws, but this is probably my favorite. I I really enjoy how I made the shadows work!! And the ear banfage looks pretty neat. Nice!!! Immagine

#2: Norman birthday edit 2021

Date: Mar 20th, 2021 Time: ~ 2:21 h Awww, soft Norman :') There was a bit to redraw, but I think everything turned out pretty neat!!! I believe everything works out fine. Though looking back at it, the part of the ID I added is definitely top small :')

#3: Manga dub: Yuugo gets knocked out

Date: Mar 27th, 2021 Time: ~ 5:05 h Here start the Manga Dub redraws to which I gave my everything ahah. This one turned out nice! I think the shoes turned out particularly good eheh. I like how Yuugo's clothing lineart- for the texture, I wanted to go for something heterogeneous, but I'm not fully confident in the final result. Gilda looks very rushed but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#4: Manga dub: Yuugo makes his dramatic entrance

Date: Apr 5th, 2021 Time: ~ 4:02 h This is pretty cool!!!! The coat took ages to redraw, but sis it turned out perfect!!! I'm very proud of this.

#5: Manga dub: RayGildEmma hug!!!

Date: Apr 9th, 2021 Time: ~ 1:31 h Awww, a beautiful panel I was really happy to have the chance to redraw. Taking into account what there was to redraw, I'm actually surprised with how little this took! Ray's backpack was a pain to make, but I think it turned out fine. I'm very happy with Emma and Ray's heads!!

#6: Manga dub: Formalities

Date: Apr 12th, 2021 Time: ~ 5:31 h It is not always easy to give sense to Demizu's perspective, but I do my best!!! In this I am *so* happy with how Don and Ray turned out, they look neat! The background on the other hand... It took hours to make ahah. I'm not fully confident in the perspective, but I'm happy with the details I've added- I really did my best to make it look like athe other manga panels and I think it paid off!!!

#7: Manga dub: We may be weaklings, but we're still alive

Date: Apr 30th, 2021 Time: ~ 1:37 h This little Emma is so cute!!!!!! I think the redraw turned out pretty perfect. I'm really satisfied with how this one turned out, and it's such a cute little Emma!!!! She's so brave and optimistic, I love her. It's a shame this panel didn't make it to the episode :')

#8: Manga dub: Goldy Pond Gang

Date: May 7th, 2021 Time: ~ 8:44 h lmao This is probably the panel redraw I'm the most proud of ever :') Just think everyone turned out very nice!! The ceiling is not exactly perfect, but it still works somehow. I'm very happy with how Gillian's back turned out!! I don't really like the fading effect on the right, but 8h in I got pretty tired of working on this ahah

#9: Manga dub: This is Goldy Pond

Date: May 21st, 2021 Time: ~ 1:29 h I'm very glad for how the Manga dub has been challenging me to learn to redraw backgrounds, something I had quite literally never tried before. It can be a little frustrating, but it's so satisfying to see the final cleaned piece!! With this panel, I also learnt to use copy and paste, which is something I had never done before beyond texture

#10: Manga dub: Good morning doctor

Date: May 21st, 2021 Time: ~ 3:42 h This is another background that turned out pretty good!! That one Norman is one I knew I would have had to fully redraw sooner or lager- the background was a bonus ahah. I'm very happy with the final result!!

Top 5 edits as whole:

#1: The Promised Neverland manga ending edit

Date: Jun 14th 2020 Time: ~ 12h 41min (5h 45min of cleaning panels in the edit + 5h 37min of cleaning panels that didn't make it to the edit + 1h 19min of resizing) + time spent cleaning panels I've deleted the file of so I can't see lmao This is overall very nice!!! The concept of an Emma evolution through her back is cool, and I think overall the edit turned out very aesthetically pleasing. The concept idea came to me while I was working on the 2019 Emma's birthday edit, a long time before the manga ending announcement- back then I wouldn't have imagined using it in occasion of the manga ending, but I think it ended up making a nice tribute. The colors add a nice touch, since so far my edits had always been black and white- it makes a sweet closure. To make that edit I selected 76 panels of Emma framed from her back; I plan to make other versions of that edit using the discarded panels eventually!

#2: Emma - Chapter 181: Beyond Destiny

Date: Jul 12th 2020 Time: 2h 57min My last edit for the manga 🥺🥺 I think this one is my very "manga ending edit" because to me it really signed the ending of weekly chapters and their weekly chapter edits. It makes me a little sad to look at it, but it's also, I don't know, kinda sweet to see how I grew both in my panel cleaning and as a person since I first started my blog. I'm glad I got into TPN!

#3: Emma birthday edit 2020

Date: Aug 22nd 2020 Time: 8h 54min This one turned out so well!!! Though I used the same concept for all the trio edits, I think this one is the best one. The two panels on the left / two panels on the right alternation combo never fails ahah. The colors are nice (shout-out to my sister for making me a palette), despite the fact that it was hard for the lighter ones to make them work with the images without having those disappear. I'm very satisfied with the panels I chose for this, I think they work really good together! Also, it got me very happy to read everyone's comments saying they liked the fading effect in the last panel :)

#4: Emma + Eyes Close Ups [1/?]

Date: Jan 24th 2021 Time: 5h 55min This one was really nice!! Another idea I got when working on the 2019 Emma birthday edit I was glad to finally execute. Started the edit in September, finished it in December. I'm overall very happy with how it turned out... I hope I will be able to make more in the future!

#5: The Promised Neverland Parallels → (9/?) » 114 // 122

Date: Feb 23th 2021 Time: 5h 7min (panel cleaning only) Aaaaahh I really like this one!!!! A parallel I love very much, and I'm really happy with how the edit turned out. All the hair redrawing looks neat!!!! The gif is maybe a little excessive, but I think overall it's a nice edit. I like it!!! Fun fact, I completed it on August 26th 2020, but I couldn't find the right moment to post it ahah.

Honorable mention: The Promised Neverland Parallels → (5/?) » 08 // 16

Date: Aug 30th 2020 Time: 2h 52min (Second picture cleaning only; I deleted the first picture art file so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) I don't have much to say about this one except!! It turned out very nice!!!!! Love the pen lmao.

Top 10 analysis:

Too many analysis,,

#1: Post chapter 181 Emma analysis

Date: Jul 9th 2020 Mmmh a nice analysis. I think it was important for me to put down in words what I think of Emma's characterization and the manga ending, so I'm happy I did it!

#2: A long Oliver analysis because I love him very much

Date: Dec 6th 2020 What can I say I just love Oliver tons 😔😔💕💕 This was very fun to make!!!

#3: TPN s2 previsions

Date: Jan 14th 2021 Really love the effort that went into this + me proving that 11 episodes GP could have possibly worked + it's just a lot of fun to read again after s2 ended pffft

#4: More s2 delusional previsions lmao

Date: Jan 27th 2021 I think the points and previsions I made where pretty neat!! In my defense, it was pretty impossible to predict the anime would have ended with this season. I always feel honoured when friends and Anon ask for my opinion, I'm like "you wanna know what I think? Wow. I'm flattered (◍•ᴗ•◍) " Thank you to anyone who ever sent me an ask!!

#5: Why Emma not wearing pants is 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘

Date: Jan 29th 2021 Really proud of this!!! Pants Emma is important!!!!!

#6: Post episode 5 manga Emma analysis

Date: Feb 4th 2021 A depressed analysis, but a necessary one 😔

#7: Norman analysis

Date: Feb 12th 2021 I love him!!!! And I'm happy I eventually got to put down in words what I love about his character. The day I posted this ww3.readneverland was in maintenance so I couldn't use the volume scans for it- the thought of that post having fan edited and fan translated scans still haunts me

#8: RayDon rambles

Date: May 12th 2021 I had a blast writing this and like. It's likely the post of mine I reread more often of them all. I love this ship tons!!!!! I'm satisfied with how I put down in words what I like about them. I LOVE THIS SHIP

#9: Chapter 58 analysis

Date: May 23th 2021 I've wanted to express this concept since like the first time reading the manga- I'm so happy I finally did!!!! This concept is one of my absolute favorite things about tpn- the feelings that people are good. The concept that kids who got to live in an healthy and supportive environment will always be inclined to kindness and altruism, because humans are just inherently good. From the Three Character Classic: “people at birth are inherently good”. I want to have faith and courage to hold on the goodness in myself, and to hold on the goodness in the world, no matter how difficult it to do that (Chloé Zhao).

#10: Norman and Lambda squad relationship analysis

Date: May 24th 2021 I think this was a pretty sharp analysis and I like what I did with it!!

Other stuff:

#1: Krone birthday edit

Date: Jul 15th 2020 This edit is so good ;; Like not perfect since it was my first attempt at coloring gifs but still I believe it turned out so good ;;;;;; The time and effort that went unto this is crazy, but... Maybe I'm happy to have dedicated time to something I like for a satisfying result.

#2: Get to know my ship- Wolfpack Trio

Date: Aug 24th 2020 Uuuh a good post. A good ship.

#3: Gilda + blank glasses

Date: Aug 27th 2020 This is such a cute nice compilation!!! I love looking at it. A few panels are missing but still :')

#4: Apollo Ray AU

Date: Sep 7th 2020 (Though it was written Sep 2nd 2019 lmao) I'm so happy I finally gathered the courage to post this 😭😭 I really enjoy what I did with this AU, so this one and its other installments are all posts I have a lot of fun rereading. More than everything, I was astounded and overjoyed by the positive response it got: that gave me tons of confidence to put my ideas out there, no matter how unique they sound!!! Here's to hoping I will be able to post my RayEmma Hadestown AU, by other big AU from late summer 2019 :')

#5: TPN timeline project

Date: Dec 2nd 2020 This is like. I don't know it's a lot ahah. Arguably the project I'm the most proud of ever making. I'm just so happy of all the months long hard work and of the final result!! The post didn't receive much response (though the ones I got were extremely kind and sweethearted so that totally makes up for it), but in the end I don't really mind? I'm just so proud I accomplished that idea :')

#6: TPN calendar

Date: Jan 4th 2021 A nice sum of the tpn timeline + everyone's birth dates!!! I really like how it turned out visually. It's a cute little tpn calendar!!!

#7: Ray smiles compilation

Date: Jan 17th 2021 Ray's smile. That's it that's the post :')

#8: Trans Oliver headcanons

Date: Jan 24th 2021 MMMH really like this headcanon I think about it a lot

#9: Thoma and Lani theory

Date: Jan 28th 2021 I really don't want to brag but this is the best joke I've ever made :')

#10: My TPN AUs

Date: May 10th 2021 Ok you gotta admit those are very good AUs, I'm glad to have made a list out of them!!!

#11: Ranking Emma promotional art outfits

Date: May 16th 2021 This is one people seem to have liked a lot which makes me happy ahah. I'm glad to know we can all agree Emma deserves more pants outfits!! Please stop it with the gendered clothing :') This is the post I want to be remembered for

#12: TPN musicals AU part 2

Date: May 20th 2021 A GREAT POST I can't stretch enough how happy I am with those character-song associations. I hope I have time to make a part 3 in the future!!

#13: TPN Drive folder

Date: May 30th 2021 This was born as a way for me to have all the tpn extra contents easily accessible, but I'm happy to have shared it with people- I hope it will turn out to be useful to others too!

#14: TPN s2 recolorings

Date: Jun 12th 2021 A more diverse children cast is good for the soul :')

That's it, this year was really fun!! Thank you to everyone who supported me through it, I can't express how grateful I am for all the kindness and validation I received. Here's to many more months in the fandom!!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

#mine #tpn #the promised neverland #tpn manga spoilers #Tumblr: *literally refuses to let me open the post*#Me: *Turns on my computer* B*TCH YOU THOUGHT I'M POSTING THIS TODAY AND NOTHING IS GOING TO STOP ME #Been working on this for four hours now.. I'm literally dead...#Also thank you Tutu for deleting the other post you're the sweetest :')#Once again this is just a personal report you don't have to read all (or any) of it unless you want to :)#Ok to reblog btw #I'll click the post button now I don't want to hear anyrhing else

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caranfindel · 3 years

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Fic: You don’t know how it feels (to be me)

gen, s6 | about 3600 words | pg for language | characters: soulless sam winchester, dean winchester

synopsis: Soulless Sam tries to deal with his brother's feelings about, well, everything. Including his hair. Set in season 6, before "You Can't Handle the Truth."

An idea I had a long time ago, resuscitated by Jared's Walker haircut. The title is from "You Don't Know How It Feels" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

. . . . . .

It's a stupid case.

The manager of the county fairgrounds is a stooped, gnarled old man wearing one of those ball caps veterans wear sometimes. Gold embroidery on the dark blue hat proudly displays the name of his ship or submarine or whatever. Sam doesn't care about his ship or submarine or whatever. He doesn't care about this guy's service at all. Most days, old Blue Hat here got three meals a day and a warm, dry place to sleep in exchange for whatever he gave up. He got a pension when he was done fighting. Sam gets to scrounge for cheap food and sleep in crappy hotels when he's lucky enough to actually land someplace other than the back seat of the Impala. Sam's service to his country earned him a trip to Hell. Sam will get to stop fighting when he's dead. His only pension will be a pyre.

Sam doesn't even get to sleep any more.

(This should bother him. But the truth is, it doesn't.)

Blue Hat frowns at Sam's ID and snorts derisively. "You don't look like a Fed. You look like a goddamn hippie."

He rolls his eyes at the old man, even though he knows Dean hates it when he does that. It's something he didn't do Before, no matter how annoying or insipid the witness. Sam doesn't give a good goddamn what this guy thinks about his hair, but apparently his brother does. "He's been doing some undercover work," Dean says. "Sometimes you've got to look like a goddamn hippie to blend in."

Blue Hat sniffs his disapproval and ignores Sam for the rest of the interview, directing all of his answers to Dean. Which is fine. The old guy doesn't seem to have anything useful to add anyway. Sam leaves his brother to the pointless interview about the stupid case and wanders around the building, taking pictures of the unexplained runes that brought them here. He's bored. The sudden appearance of mysterious runes on the bland metal exterior of a county fairgrounds building feels witchy, and Sam really doesn't care about witches. Two measly deaths, quite possibly from natural causes, and now he's out here standing in cow shit. Or goat shit or pig shit. This entire day has been shit, literally and figuratively.

Dean joins him after a couple of minutes, apparently done with Blue Hat. "What do you think?" he asks.

Sam shrugs. "Too early to tell. If these runes are what Bobby thinks they are, they'll change under moonlight, but moonrise isn't until 9:05 pm."

“Jesus," Dean moans. "I can't stay awake that long. I've already gone almost two days. Let's go back to the motel and crash, and we'll hit this place again tonight."

Or not, Sam wants to say. I think you jumped on this paper-thin excuse for a job just because the alternative was sitting in a motel room with me waiting for an actual case to come up, Sam wants to say. But neither of these are things he would have said Before, and Dean is so goddamn twitchy about Sam being different than Before.

As they turn back to the Impala, Dean glances at Sam with a slight smile. "Dude's not wrong, you know."

“What?"

“You do look like a goddamn hippie." Dean's hand twitches toward Sam, like he's going to smack him on the back of the head or ruffle his hair, but he pulls back without touching him. Because they don't do that now. Casual, good-natured, brotherly contact isn't a thing now. Dean doesn't touch him unless there are injuries involved.

(This is another thing that should bother Sam. It would have, Before.)

. . .

Dean hangs his suit in the closet, sets an alarm, and collapses on top of the covers. Sam stares at his own bed. The threat of spending hours pretending to be asleep makes his skin crawl. If Dean falls asleep quickly enough, he can skip the whole charade.

“Hey, I think I'm gonna shower first," he says.

Dean doesn't open his eyes. "Just don't wake me up when you get out."

In the bathroom, Sam turns on the water but doesn't get undressed. He stands at the mirror, staring at his too-long hair. Why has he bothered to hold onto it? He remembers caring about his hair. He remembers it being a small fuck you to John, the one area in his life where he was able to cling to some autonomy. It's not that he's forgotten about that; he just doesn't give a shit any more.

And like Dean said, Blue Hat wasn't wrong. He does look like a hippie. The hair is a hazard, and it does clash with any kind of law enforcement disguise. Maybe it's time to do something about it. He has time to kill anyway, while Dean sleeps.

(Sam should care that he doesn't need to sleep any more. Dean would definitely care, if he found out. Dean cares so much about any aspect of Sam that is less normal than he thinks it ought to be. Even if it's something that makes him a better hunter. Dean didn't appreciate it when Sam could exorcise demons without killing the host, and Dean wouldn't appreciate that Sam can get so much done when he's not sleeping. He could never understand why this version of Sam is so much better than the way he was Before. It's a shame Dean hasn't discovered the option of Not Caring.)

(Sometimes Sam wonders if getting back with Dean is worth the trouble.)

(And that should bother him too.)

Sam shuts off the shower and pulls out his phone. He needs to find a barber shop in walking distance. Dean will get all pissy if he wakes up and the car is gone; less so if only Sam is missing. Luckily, there's a shop that might still be open. It's one of those ridiculous sports-themed places that presumes men are fussy toddlers who need to be distracted from the ignominy of a hair cut. At least they tend to be staffed by women, and those women tend to be prettier than average. With any luck, he can kill two birds with one stone.

When he opens the bathroom door, Dean is either asleep, or pretending to be. Sam scrawls couldn't sleep, back soon on the motel notepad and closes the door behind him as silently as possible.

(He misses his car. He didn't have an emotional attachment to it, like Dean and the Impala, but it was convenient and it suited him.)

(He doesn't actually have an emotional attachment to anything. That should bother him.)

. . .

Two stylists, both predictably prettier than average, look up when he walks in. The redhead says "sorry, sir, we're just about to close up," and continues sweeping up hair trimmings. But the brunette looks him up and down and smiles. And Sam's partial to brunettes anyway.

He gives her a once-over in return and smiles back. "Do you have time for just a quick cut? I'd be eternally grateful."

She stares at him for a minute, appraising. "Well, how could I turn down an offer of eternal gratefulness?" she says with a wink. She turns to the redhead. "Why don't you go on home. I've got this."

The redhead dumps her clippings into a trash can. "You sure?"

"I'm sure. You mind locking the door behind you? I don't want any more last-minute customers walking in."

The redhead raises her eyebrows, but gathers her purse and jacket and makes her escape as Sam settles into the brunette's chair.

“I'm Marianne," she says, as she starts to drape a cape over his shoulders.

“I'm Sam. But listen. I get too hot under those capes. Would it be okay if we skip it? And I just take my shirt off so I don't get hair all over it?"

Marianne smiles like the cat who caught the canary. "Not a problem, sweetheart."

Sam slips out of his dress shirt and drapes it over the empty chair next to him. Marianne watches him the whole time, eyes roving over the muscles exposed by his snug white undershirt. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.

He sits back in the chair and Marianne stands behind him. Her chest brushes against his shoulders. "So," she asks, "what are we doing today?"

“Shorter. Off my collar, above my ears."

She slips her fingers through his hair, measuring its length. "You sure? This length looks pretty good on you. Just needs to be cleaned up a bit."

“It's for a job. The long hair doesn't fly any more."

“Aw, that's a shame." Marianne's still running her fingers through his hair. "If you've got a lady in your life, I bet she'll miss it. A girl likes something to hold onto."

Well. The best lies are based on a kernel of truth. Sam looks into his lap and lets his smile go sad and soft. "That's kind of why I'm here. My girlfriend died and I thought I'd try to start over. New place, new job, new life. But yeah, that's always been one of my favorite things. A girl grabbing my hair in the heat of the moment. I should have tried to find someone to do that one more time before I had to cut it off."

Marianne leans forward, pressing her breasts harder against him. When he looks up, she meets his eyes in the mirror, then flicks a glance toward a door marked Employees Only. “You know," she says, "that could probably be arranged."

Seriously. Fish in a goddamn barrel.

. . .

Dean's awake when Sam gets back to the motel room, but he doesn't look up from the laptop. "Couldn't sleep?"

“I guess I napped a little in the car on the way down here," Sam lies. "And then, you know, a lot of caffeine this morning."

“Whatever. I'm not the sleep police. I hope you brought food, cause I could —" Dean looks at Sam and stops mid-sentence, mouth still open. "You cut your hair?"

“Yeah."

“Why?"

“What do you mean, why? Like old what's-his-face said, I looked like a hippie, not an FBI agent. And you've been telling me to cut it for years."

“Yeah, I have. I've been saying that for years and you've been ignoring me for years. Now some random witness calls you a hippie and you go running to Supercuts?"

Sam sighs. Dean may not be the sleep police, but he's awfully eager to step in as the hair police, enforcing his own set of laws about Sam's hair. "Why does it matter? You wanted me to cut it. Everyone wanted me to cut it. And I cut it. Can we move on now?"

It's a statement almost guaranteed to make Dean bow up in anger, but instead, he deflates. "It's just… nothing. Fine. Moving on." He closes the laptop and pulls his keys out of his coat pocket. "We've still got an hour or so before moonrise. I'm gonna go run through McDonald's. You want a chicken sandwich, or is that something else you're not interested in any more?"

Jesus Christ. This is what passes for moving on. But Sam needs that shower now, and none of this is worth arguing about.

(Few things are any more. That seems like it should matter.)

“Yeah, that sounds great, thanks."

By the time Dean gets back, the sandwich is cold and the ice in Sam's drink is mostly melted. He pretends to enjoy it anyway.

. . .

Their drive back to the fairgrounds is quiet. Dean occasionally steals an unhappy glance at Sam's hair, but doesn't say anything. Sam ignores it.

They pull into the parking lot in front of the marked building. Without even getting out of the car, they can see that the runes have changed. The broad strokes are softly luminescent, glowing a pale blue in the moonlight.

“Okay, so that answers that question," Sam says. Thank God. Now they can leave without wandering around the grounds, soaking up the barnyard smell again. Wrap this up and start working on something more important. But Dean gets out of the car and looks at Sam expectantly. Well, crap. Sam dutifully follows him closer to the building and tries to think of how he would have felt about this development Before.

“Cool," he says. Dean narrows his eyes at him. "I mean, cool that our theory was right. Not, you know, cool that someone is using this kind of spellwork to make sure their pig wins a blue ribbon at the fair. That part's… pretty awful." But Dean's still looking at him funny, so he probably overcorrected on that one. It's just hard, any more.

Dean rubs the back of his neck as he examines the glowing runes. "If that's all they're doing, more power to them. I couldn't care less. But we need to make sure that's all they're doing. I mean, people died, Sam. We need to figure out if this is why." He pulls out his phone. "Gonna take some pictures to send Bobby." There's no reason to remind him they already have pictures. If Dean thinks additional pictures are more effective and efficient than "just like this, but glowing blue," that's up to him. Sam will most likely solve the damn case later tonight anyway, while Dean sleeps.

And he almost does. Dean knocks back a couple of glasses of whiskey when they get back to the motel, and falls asleep pretty soon after that. Sam doesn't bother to feign sleep — Dean doesn't seem to care, right now, whether his brother gets any sleep or not. But when Sam realizes his own photos missed a crucial corner of the building, he opens his brother's phone and finds his last text to Bobby. There's only one picture, and it's not glowing runes. It's him. Just a dark, slightly blurry picture of Sam, obviously taken earlier that night at the fairgrounds. And a text conversation.

See, I told you, it's short. I don't know what's going on. I swear he's just different.

Yeah, I get it. It's different. He's different. But what'd you expect? Of course he's not the same as he was. Hell changed him.

It didn't change me this much.

His Hell wasn't the same as yours. I know it didn't last very long, but remember, he was in the cage with the devil. We don't know what happened to him in there. Give him some time.

Well. Fuck. Dean's talking about him behind his back. Dean doesn't trust him. Dean thinks, once again, that something is wrong with him.

(That would have hurt, Before. Now it's just an annoyance. A distraction. Something to be dealt with.)

Yes, Hell changed him. Hell burned away all the crap, all the useless feelings, the guilt and shame and fear of failure. Hell purified him. Hell carved out the weakness and left nothing but pure, strong hunter. Dean, of all people, should appreciate the result. But Dean does not, and now Sam has to cater to his tiresome attachment to everything Sam was Before.

Fine. He can make that work.

Sam quietly puts Dean's phone back on the nightstand. He strips down to boxers and his t-shirt, sets an alarm, and crawls into bed. Pretending to sleep is tedious, but a couple of hours of boredom right now might spare him weeks of Dean's moodiness about him being different.

(As if Hell could leave you untouched. As if anyone in their right mind would expect that. As if Dean himself didn't know this first hand, for fuck's sake.)

. . .

Sam spends the next day focusing on acting the way he did Before. When his alarm goes off he stretches, yawns, and pretends he had a good night's sleep. He goes for a run, brings back coffee, showers quickly, and rolls his eyes when Dean makes a crack about him being able to spend less time in the shower now. At breakfast, he smiles at the (cute, definitely worth a bang) waitress, but doesn't flirt or even check her out as she walks away. He's figured out that Dean wants Sam to want to get laid (but not too much; he's definitely not supposed to want it as much as Dean wants it) but for some reason doesn't want him to actually get lucky. And he definitely would have gotten lucky. He spends the day looking empathetic, acting like this whole thing hasn't been a colossal waste of time. Like he cares about everything. About anything.

(God, it's exhausting.)

It turns out the deaths probably don't have anything to do with the witch at all. They return to the fairgrounds one last time, where Sam plants hex bags and paints runes on the corners of the building that will block the witch's simple spells - not that he cares whether the witch achieves anything or not, just on principle. His own runes are small and subtle enough that this novice witch (they must be a novice; no one with any experience would be naive enough to make their work so noticeable) won't even know they're in place. And if the witch escalates, well, that's not exactly Sam's problem.

When he's finished, he wipes his hands on his jeans and says "We should get Chinese for dinner. When's the last time you ate a vegetable?" Because monitoring everyone's vegetable intake is something he did Before.

They're finishing Chinese takeout in their motel room (beef with broccoli for Dean, eggplant in garlic sauce for Sam, because occasional bouts of vegetarianism were also a thing he did Before) when he catches Dean looking at his hair, very clearly wanting to say something.

So. It's go time.

Sam tries to make his eyes big and sad. The puppy dog look, Dean always called it. It was never intentional Before, but now he has to work at it. "Listen," he says. "I owe you an apology. I haven't been telling you the whole truth."

“No shit," Dean says. He's trying to sound nonchalant, but his body language screams that he's bracing for something. "So, spill it. What's your big confession?"

(That I don't care about any of this. This piddly little case. My hair. You. Nothing. And you can't imagine, Dean, you cannot even begin to imagine the incredible freedom of not caring. I wish you could, but you just can't.)

No, he can't say any of that. But the best lies are built on a kernel of truth.

Sam takes a deep, anxious breath and looks at Dean. No, wait. Look away. "You know, I told you I don't remember Hell. And I really don't. Not consciously, anyway. But when we were fighting those demons a couple of weeks ago, one of them grabbed me by the hair, and I felt something… it was a sense memory, I guess. It felt like Hell, for some reason. Like it was something that happened to me in Hell, someone grabbing my hair and pulling my head back and getting ready to cut my throat or… whatever."

He doesn't have to elaborate on whatever. Dean knows the whatevers of Hell better than anyone. He's probably dealing with a little sense memory of his own right now, of clutching someone's hair and pulling their head back in preparation for whatever. And now Sam does look at his brother, who is staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.

“Ever since then," Sam continues, "I just feel like I've been on the verge of remembering something. Something I don't want to remember. And I'm tired of worrying that I'm gonna have a Hell flashback every time I wash my hair."

Dean looks like he's going to vomit. Perfect.

“I'm sorry," Sam says. "It threw me, and I just didn't want to talk about it. But I shouldn't have kept it from you."

For a second, he's sure he has gone too far. Dean is going to say what's this bullshit, Sam, you would never apologize for something like that, so tell me what's really going on. But he doesn't. He stares at Sam for a minute, then looks away and wipes a hand down his face.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. You, ah. You good now? Is it working?"

Sam shrugs. "Hard to say. It hasn't been very long. But yeah, I feel a little more… stable, I guess."

And then it’s time to go for the kill.

Sam gives him the sad smile. (He never used to think of it as a sad smile; never used to think of it as anything at all. It was just what his face did. Every expression requires so much thought now.) "Listen. I know things are weird. I know I'm weird. Different. I know it's hard for you. If this is all more than you want to deal with right now, I understand."

Dean frowns. "What are you saying?"

“Just, I can go back with Samuel and his crew if you don't want to do this any more. You and me, I mean. No hard feelings, I promise."

Dean's face crumples. "What? No, fuck, no, Sam. I don't. You and me, we're good. I'm just getting used to things. That's all."

“Okay." Sam gives his best approximation of a grateful smile.

“So. Uh." Dean looks around the room nervously, like he's waiting for the other shoe to fall, then stands. "I think I'm gonna go get a drink. You wanna come with, or…"

Even if Sam believed Dean really wanted him to come along — and he doesn't; this is obviously Dean's way of retreating from a situation he doesn't want to think about — pretending to sleep when Dean's gone is one of the easier ways of making it look like he actually does sleep sometimes. "No. I'm beat," he says. "I think I'll just go to bed."

“Okay. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea." Dean takes his keys out of his pocket and anxiously tosses them in his hand. When he finally does turn to Sam, he looks at his hair, not his eyes. "Hey, you know, it does. It does look good on you."

Sam ducks his head shyly, like someone who's not used to praise. Who doesn't think he deserves it. "Thanks." When he looks up, Dean is already halfway out the door, putting as much space between himself and his little brother's hellscape as possible.

(Seriously. Fish in a fucking barrel.)

#my fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #soulless sam is my spirit animal #spn #season 6

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taeyohonic · 4 years

Text

Just a Taste – Chapter One

Summary: Being asked to take a blood test just to work at a merchandise booth should have been the first read flag for you. But you just gave them a sample of your blood in exchange for a very much needed paycheck and a summer job during BTS’ world tour. After the youngest member of the popular kpop band finds himself in a difficult situation, you come to realize that this wasn’t the last time you shed blood for your idols. or: You becomes the new donor for seven bloodthirsty idols, who seem to be way too interested in their new food source.

Pairing: OT7xfem!Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Smut, (Fluff)

Warnings: blood, they aren’t very nice to you...

Words: 2.7k

Chapters: Prologue, Chap. I, Chap. II, Chap. III, Chap. IV, Chap. V, Chap. VI, Chap. VII

“What do you mean ‘all the bags are gone’?”

Your supervisor does not look amused. The girl with an abnormal amount of glitter on her face does not look amused. Hell, even you don’t look amused. The stadium hasn’t even begun to let the fans in and your merch booth ran out of the official “speak yourself”-bag ten minutes ago.

This job is in the top three most gruesome things you had to do for money. But money was tight, and you didn’t want to survive another summer on ramen and cheap wine. The job ad was harmless at first glance. Just another sales job. But they promised good pay and international traveling, which was enough to let your eyes linger. There was no company mentioned, just a post box.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when BigHit responded to your application a week later. With Bangtan’s rising popularity and the massive size of their tour, extra staff had to be hired. Still, the ARMY in you couldn’t contain her excitement. This was a big deal for you. Touring with one of your favorite kpop bands, traveling to Japan and getting first dips on all the merchandise? This was a no brainer. Hell, you would have even paid them to tag along. So you dressed to impress when you attended the interview, keeping your giddiness locked behind a professional smile.

“You want what?”, you ask – disbelieve coloring your voice.

“A blood test”, the interviewer repeats nonchalantly without looking up from her questionnaire.

Was this normal procedure? You had only ever worked in your aunt’s bookstore during senior year of high school and at a fast food place all through undergrad. Neither asked for your freaking bloodline.

“What? Do you discriminate certain blood types?”, you say in mock humor. A laugh disguised as a cough rings through the room, as the cute guy in the back of the room tries to hide his amusement. His eyes are locked on your features.

“We just want to make sure all our employees are healthy. You’ll be travelling to a foreign country, working long hours.”, the woman in front of you replies, ignoring your bad attempt at a joke. She continues: “You don’t have to – of course.”

“But then I won’t be asked back for a second interview, am I right?”

The woman looks you in the eyes for the first time since entering the room. She doesn’t look as evil as she sounds. “No”

So, you guess you’ll leave with a bit less body fluid than you anticipated.

There wasn’t a second interview. The test results came with a pre-signed contract.

***

“What the fuck is up with this boy today?”, Joo-Won swears as his eyes are glued to the screen in front of you. Your shift is officially over. Most of the merchandise is packed up, all the sold-out item IDs are sent to the head quarter and you already got a notification that the next delivery will be arriving first thing tomorrow morning. Now you’re sitting together with some crew members, a half-finished soju bottle in your hand and an empty carton of take-out on your lap. The guy at your job interview turned out to be quite fun.

Joo-Won introduced himself during the briefing on your first day in Japan. He is responsible for the ARMY Bomb stands, which seems to be a very big deal around here. This is his third tour with Bangtan and he seems to know nearly every henchmen in this operation. So it came to no surprise when a stage assistant invited you both to watch the concert from one of the twelve monitors backstage. Of course, you didn’t look too out of place with your name badge and the Love Yourself-hoodie you may or may not have purchased with your employee discount.

The stage assistant, whose name you can’t remember, is fuzzing with screen number five as you take another sip of your afterwork drink. You stare not really focusing on anything. Just blank nothingness.

“You did see this as well, right _______?”, Joo-Won asks breathlessly.

You can only nod. The Fake Love performance just ended. And even though all seven idols were on fire, the youngest was just out of control.

“What did we just see?”, the boy continues.

“Rudeness”, you answer and empty the bottle with a hefty swing. You knew Jungkook would lift his shirt. You were prepared as you had seen their comeback stage more times than you’d be comfortable to admit. This was not news to you. But the aggression in his stare, how dark he growled his verses, the hard edges on his mouth, not even hinting a friendly smile, was making you uncomfortable.

Before your new friend can respond his headset beeped. Joo-Won answer, his eyes still on the screen.

“Yeah?” After a beat his eyes flash to you. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“_________ is with me”, he says and you need a second to register your role in the conversation.

Joo-Won’s stare lingers on your face – a silent question in his eyes.

“Sure, sir. I’ll bring her to you right away.” Then he ends the call sifting, so your knees are brushing against one another.

“Care to explain, why Bangtan’s prime management wants to speak with you, _______?”, your friend asks, no judgement in his voice. What?

***

“So, I have to sign another NDA?”, you ask the manager in front of you, trying to swallow your nervousness. This is the Sejin, Bangtan’s right hand advisor. Every fan knows him from countless Bangtan Bombs and can easily recognize the fathering care in his work.

“This one… is more specific”, he explains and moves the stack of papers to you. You try to calm your excited fingers as you grab at the legal document, flipping through it.

“And it’s time sensitive”, Sejin adds and searches your eyes for attention. You give it to him.

“Time sensitive?” The papers abandoned on the table. “Is something wrong with the boys?”

There will come a time and place when you reflect on the choice of calling these men “the boys” as if they were your closest friends. But it’s not today. Today you just see a glint in his eyes.

“Yes, it’s Jungkookie”, Sejin starts and your memories flash to their concert an hour prior. How Joo-Won and you both discussed how beastly the youngest looked – how aggressive.

“Wh-what?”, you answer in question. The manager’s hands move on top of yours.

“He is ill and … you might be able to help him. We can’t transport him. And we are not sure he’ll survive an ambulance ride.”

Your brain blanks as you stand up in a swift move. This is simple: One of your most cherished idols is ill and his trustworthy manager tells you that you’ll be able to help. This is a no brainer.

“Take me to him”, you order, not even caring that Sejin’s words are not making any sense. How can a twenty-four-year-old college dropout help the golden maknae? What even is his illness?

Sejin’s smile should have been another red flag. “Slow down, _________”, he sooths and moves around the table so he is standing in front of you. “This is important. You have to sign the documents. You’ll have to transfuse blood to him.” He is handling you a pen. “There are health risks. This isn’t … the most optimal environment for a blood donation.”

Jungkook needs your blood – memories of your job interview come back.

You sign the contract, not even reading all the small-printed clauses on the pages. Before the ink is even dry, Sejin is moving you through a long corridor. His hand rests on your neck – squeezing reassuringly. A glimmer travels across your body and you try to ground yourself. Of course you are nervous. This is reasonable. You’ll donate blood to one of your favorite idols. Maybe you’ll see him, when he gets better. Hell, maybe he’ll even thank you in person! Meeting Bangtan is the closest form to aspiration you have at the moment.

“When is the nurse coming?”, you question the logistics as you move towards the farthest door labeled “BTS”.

“Which nurse?” You look at Sejin in surprise – if not a nurse, who’ll take your blood?

“Then a doctor?”, you ask and Sejin shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping him while you both come to a halt in front of the door.

“There is… no time I’m afraid”, he answers – with remorse in his voice. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, some of the fog lifted. How the hell should you give Jungkook your blood if there is not even a transfusion station here?

Sejin knocks at the door, ignoring your thumbing heartbeat and opens the door, softly pushing you into the room. “I’ll explain everything; I promise.”

***

The starving vampire smells your sweet blood as soon as the door opens – Sejin a mere decoration in his vision. Jungkook’s whole body turns towards you while your eyes nervously shift across the room. Time slows down as the maknae swiftly moves straight to you. His muscles ache and he cannot even recognize his swallow breathing. His stare is fixed on the nap of your neck – deliciously soft, milky. Not even the slightest imperfection in this human before him.

You do not even sense Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s presence as your eyes take in the predator advancing towards you. The older ones seem frozen as their youngest stops just a breath away from you. You look mouthwatering – clad in one of their merchandise hoodies, hair pinned in a mess at the top of your head, some bold eye make-up, but otherwise barefaced. You look… just right.

Before Jungkook’s grin spreads across his face, Jin takes action – trying to move between the sarved vampire and this … girl. What the hell was Sejin thinking just throwing her in here? Did he want this human dead so badly?

But the oldest is too late – Jungkook growls aggressively as he snatches you against his firm chest. All the air leaves your lungs – your breasts pressed painfully against solid muscle.

“Ahh”, you groan. As soon as the noise leaves your mouth, his lips descend against the white of your neck. The maknae hisses in pleasure; and then he is biting – hard.

Your scream misses the volume and you feel tears on your cheeks as you gaze into Seokjin’s overwhelmed eyes – hands outstretched.

Blood flows freely into Jungkook’s mouth and you hear a sickening slurping sound. The pain is blazing against your skin, every fiber of your body vehemently trying to get away from the maknae. But your fingers don’t push him away. No, the curl around his biceps – acting against every rational though inside your brain. You cling to the man sucking your blood as if he’s merely leaving a love bite.

The pain in your body slowly ebbs and you feel a bright bliss surrounding you. You’re not even sure if you are still standing at the door. There is no room – just lips against your neck and whimpers in your throat… and Namjoon’s voice far, far away.

“Jungkook stop now.”

“This is an order.”

“Jin, help me.”

“Let’s lay her down.”

“Is there a pulse?”

***

“How do you take your coffee?”, Yoongi asks while starring at you with such indifference in his eyes you’re not sure your answer even matters.

“Uhm- I” His sigh interrupts you as he makes his way from the couch across form you to the kitchenette. The whole room is dimmed in a soft light, the furniture a clean white. You feel your head spin as you try to recall what happened. Weren’t you backstage? Didn’t Jun-

“Jungkook”, your voice more of an accusation than a whisper. Yoongi’s back stiffens, but he continues to brew hot water over a ceramic filter and soon a soothing smell of coffee drifts towards you on the white leather.

“Jungkook sucked m-y – he su”

“-cked your blood. Damn girl, how hard did you hit your head when you fainted?”, your favorite rapper asks – his body finally turned towards you.

Slow, leisure steps are taken and then he sits in front of you, taking you all in. You must look like a mess; grease and sweat from your shift in the booth, plus the incident with the youngest vocalist in the band. All the blood. Your stomach turns around uncomfortably.

Yoongi is looking into your eyes and for a split second you see something other than complete boredom behind his stare, but as soon as you try to pinpoint the emotion, it vanishes.

“That’s what vampire do”, he continues and you heart reacts before the triggering word even registers in your brain. Vampire. No way.

“Go-ood one, Yoongi-ssi. This… this isn’t – some romance novel for teenagers”, you scoff, disbelieve in your voice while your heart beats hard against your chest. Without missing a beat, the idol is in your face – literally just millimeters away. The air is stuck in your lungs as you try to calm yourself.

“You know what I hate, dumb human?”

His fingers draw lines across your face – just a feathering touch, barely more than an illusion. You can only shake your head; afraid your voice will give out if you try to answer verbally.

His face moves down to your neck as his hands frame your face – no longer brushing but locking your head into place. Then his mouth dives into your neck, just resting against your pulse. You can feel the sinister smile against your skin as you shiver.

“Talking to dumb people”, his lips vibrate and you feel goosebumps traveling across your body.

“You have all the proof, but your silly little brain still doesn’t – connect the pieces”, Yoongi trails small kisses across your collarbone; a stark contrast to his insulting words.

“Do you really think our little maknae just has a blood kink?”

He moves to the other side of your neck, while titling your head forcefully to the left. You can’t move your body – muscles frozen into place. You’re just passively… enduring what your favorite idol does to you. Now his teeth are grazing your right earlobe, as his voice drops another octave into a threatening growl.

“That we just hire a college dropout because of her work ethics?”

His words hurt, but you’re more concerned with the information behind them. They know about you, must have read your file. Shame colors your cheeks and Yoongi’s nose inhales deeply against the red of your skin.

“You smell fucking delicious”, he moans and places an open mouth kiss against your rosé cheek. You can feel his saliva on your skin and a whimper of your own escapes your throat.

“You like that, dumb human? Knowing I’d love… nothing more than to bite in your flesh? Drain you dry?”, he slurs. You both know that this is nothing more than a rhetorical question – your heart, your breathing and the wetness between your tights enough evidence.

But before he can act on his words, a searing pain flashes through your brain.

“Argh”, you groan pressing your head against his cold hands with virgo. The dead skin of his fingertips sooths the throbbing in your brain temporarily. But he knows that your time is nearing its end.

“Human, listen to me”, he whispers, his previously threatening tone making place for urgent whisper.

“When you wake up” What? His hands still a vise to keep you grounded, while the pain in your head expands to your whole body. “Damn human, focus!”

He searches your eyes for recognition, but your stare moves around the room – now noticing how alien the light looks, how… clean the colors are. Is this? Are you still sleeping? How?

“When you wake up”, Yoongi’s voice nothing more than a vibrating hum in your ears, “Say no to Namjoon.”

Now he is shaking you. “Say no”

***

“Good morning, sleepyhead”, Namjoon says after you open your eyes – the morning sun blinding you momentarily.

“I made you coffee”, he adds as he pushes a steaming mug in your hands. The familiar smell takes you back to your dream, to Yoongi, his words, his plea – and you gape at the leader in front of you.

“I thought we could talk?”

_______________________

A/N: What do you guys think? I am so thankful for the feedback you guys sent me. It means a lot! I hope you like this chapter as much as i do! I’d love to hear from you again! love, dana

taglist: @m0chilattae @gali-005 @fangirls94 @dinopowa @toddsgirl27 @littlemanismoon @dkck99 @slutkoo @subtlepjiminie @coffeebeanismylife @iloverubberduckiez-blog @geminidrawsstuff @olivialovemason88

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nose-bandaid · 3 years

Text

그해 그 달 그날 (that year, that month, that day)

i Need a yanan fluff please! how about fluffy/angst one of him being really tired because hes recently just rejoined the group but loving being back and just needing some comfort and cuddles 🙁🙁

Yanan x (Gender Neutral) Reader fluff (with some angst) | 2.1k words

synopsis: yanan has finally returned to his group for promotions — and he’s elated, the happiest he’s ever been — yet he feels so tired. so, so tired. and so he comes to you for some comfort, and maybe some cuddles and sweet reassurances along the way.

a/n: hi yanon anon !! i hope that i got what you were going for with your prompt! i really like writing this i didn’t know how much i needed this yanan comfort + fluff until i finished it. i hope you enjoy reading it! :)

=====

You were just finishing up some of the last chores on your to-do list when your phone rang from the other side of the room. Skipping over the objects littered all over the floor (it’s funny how in order to clean, you sometimes had to make a mess first), you glanced at the screen and titled your head a little out of confusion when the caller ID read Yanannie. Not that it was unusual for your boyfriend to contact you throughout the day — you guys would text each other whenever you had the time to — but he rarely called unless it was something serious. He’d already established the fact that he preferred texting over calling, so a hint of worry laced your voice when you picked up.

“Hello?”

Yanan didn’t hesitate to get straight to the point. “Are you free tonight?”

“Huh? Yeah, why?”

There was some distant chatter on his side of the line and it sounded like he was trying to move away from it. “Can I come over? At like 7?”

“Sure,” The conversation stalled for a moment before you spoke again. “Is everything alright?”

Just like last time, he answered without missing a beat. “Yeah, I just want to come over.”

“Okay… Then I’ll see you at 7. I love you.”

You heard him mutter a soft “I love you” back before the mumbling near him grew louder and he quickly hung up, leaving you all alone.

You reasoned that the conversation was so awkward and rushed because he was busy — the group was in the middle of their promotions after all. But despite his words, all that call told you was that everything was in fact, not alright. The clock on your wall told you that you still had a couple hours to get all your work done and you sped through the tasks as fast as you could.

By the time it was 6:00 (5:56 if you wanted to be really exact) everything was complete and you scrolled through your phone in search of a recipe you could follow. You weren’t the most amazing cook out there, but you could definitely make a few basic dishes, and hopefully, you’ll be able to make some sort of comfort food for him. Your eyes caught a familiar name and you looked through the recipe. If you recalled correctly, he really liked that dish, and the process didn’t seem to be that difficult either.

And so, you got up from the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around you and headed to the kitchen to chop up the ingredients. Not too long after you began doing so, you heard the door knock and you panicked. Yanan wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour, and you were definitely nowhere near finishing the dish. You abandoned your little workstation and made your way to the door, in which you opened to come face to face with your boyfriend.

Though the man in front of you looked nothing like the Yanan you were used to seeing.

The last time you got to meet with him in person was about a week ago, when you joined his group for a company dinner. Back then, he seemed perfectly fine, laughing along with the others, looking absolutely stunning in the outfit he had on. But now, even the hat he had on refused to hide the messy strands of hair poking in all sorts of directions, and his posture was hunched, as if the weight of his backpack was far more than he could handle. He had his cute round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, but that didn’t hide the dark bags underneath his eyes, which lacked the mischievous glint he usually had when he was with you.

“Yanan… You look like a mess.” You pointed out meekly, as if he hadn’t realized that himself.

He let out a small pitiful laugh and took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

You stepped back to allow him into your house and waited for him to take off his coat and set his bag down before engulfing him into a warm hug. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you spoke up. “I was going to make you some food, but you came a little earlier than expected so I’ve just barely started.”

“Let’s just order takeout, don’t worry about cooking.” He muttered tiredly into the crook of your neck, his lips cold from the weather outside. “And I’m sorry, I know I came earlier than I said I would, I just really wanted to see you.”

You chuckled as you pulled apart, leaving a hand resting on his chest. “And I’ve missed you too. How about you take a shower while I’ll prepare some things to help you calm down?” You suggested.

He nodded silently and disappeared to your room. He’d stayed over enough times for you to have some of his spare clothes tucked in your closet, in case of any impromptu visits, like right now. As you heard the shower start to run, you returned to your kitchen and packed away all the ingredients you had prepared — you could always just use those later in some other dish — and then picked up your phone to dial his favourite Chinese restaurant. It was a small shop near your house that you first visited together a year ago and it quickly became a hidden treasure to Yanan. He loved the fact that it was always bustling with locals who respected his privacy and had some of the best food that reminded him of home. The owner laughed when she recognized your voice and order.

“I have some extra desserts that I don’t think we’ll be selling tonight, I’ll add them in there for Yanan. I know he likes them.” She added sweetly. She was like any generic auntie down the street, always taking care of the people she met, but you loved for that and smiled through the receiver.

“Sure, that sounds great. Thank you so much”

You spent the next few minutes cozy-ing up the couch a little bit, grabbing a blanket from your room, and preparing a laptop so that you could watch the latest episodes of your favourite drama that aired a few days ago. You were in the midst of grabbing yourself a glass of water when Yanan walked out of the bathroom, towel resting on his matted wet hair as he dried himself off.

“Feeling any better?” You asked gently and he made his way over to the couch to join you under the blanket.

“A little, yeah.” He replied, nestling into the comfort of the cushions.

“I ordered the food, it should be here in about half an hour,” You continued. “And we’ve got some episodes we gotta catch up on so we can watch those while we wait.”

He simply nodded at your words, humming just the slightest bit. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at your finger hovering over the laptop. You pursed your lips at his reaction and drew back into yourself, daring to ask him the question that’s been on your mind since he called you.

“Yanan… are you sure everything’s alright?”

He sighed and rubbed his face, you could practically feel the fatigue radiating off of him. Before he answered, he snuggled closer into your body. “Everything is alright, like I’m finally back with the boys and we’re all together again and promotions are going well, so how can things not be alright? Everything’s perfect…” His voice trailed off and he averted his gaze from yours.

“And yet I find it so hard to wake up everyday, I’m just so tired. I love doing this, I love seeing the fans and going to practice and sharing our new songs, but I’m so tired that I’m starting to get sick of this. Sure, everyone else is tired too, I know they are, but no one else seems to have it as bad as I am… I don’t know if I’m fit for being an idol anymore.” He paused again, and then added quietly.

“I don’t want to have to leave again, I want to keep on going.”

At a loss for what to say, you simply kissed him on the forehead and pulled him closer. “It’s okay to be tired, you know that right? That doesn’t make you any less of an idol, or a person, even. You wanna talk more about anything?”

For the next while, you listened to him talk about the good and the bad of his return, commenting here and there to reassure his thoughts. The toll, not just physical, but emotional as well, his recent return had on him was evident and your heart clenched at his tired state.

The food came not much later and you spent the time eating as if you were in another world. Worries were pushed aside as you told each other silly stories and jokes about your friends, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his mood lift and his eyes sparkle once again. Even if it was just a little bit. You loved all sides of Yanan, but this was by far your favourite, and you wanted to keep him in this happy mood for as long as you possibly could.

One episode of your drama and many mouthfuls of the delicious food later, you found the two of you settling on the comfy couch once again. He rested his head on your lap, body stretched across the length of the couch and dangling on the other end a little bit. His hair had finally dried off and now its platinum strands were fluffy, enticing you to to run a hand through them. You giggled when they flopped back onto his forehead and continued doing so lovingly.

“Sorry to come over all of a sudden and be all needy.” He apologized. “I didn’t even ask how your day was.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “There is absolutely no reason for you to be sorry about something like this. I understand you’re tired, and like I said, it’s okay to be tired, you’re only human, Yanan. If you’re concerned about my day, it was fine, nothing special honestly, but today is all about you, okay?”

He let you gently pinch his cheek to make your point.

You pulled back the sleeve of your sweater to reveal the simple string bracelet that wrapped around your wrist over and over again. “You remember that day?”

He smirked softly. “How could I forget?” He pulled up his own sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet in a different colour. “I asked the stylists to incorporate it into my outfit today so I could wear it on the stage and think of you.”

“You’re so cute.” You smiled. “Do you remember what we promised each other on that day?”

There was a short moment of silence as he recalled his memories. “That we wouldn’t give up?”

“That we wouldn’t give up.” You echoed. “No matter how hard it got, we’ll push through it.”

Life sucked at times. You both knew that. And sometimes it just sucked so bad and you aren’t able to do much about it. Especially with your busy schedules, moreso his busy schedule, seeing each other was difficult and chances to comfort each other physically was scarce. You could understand how the recent events would’ve affected him.

“You’re really strong, you know that?” You added in a whisper, and he sighed.

“I do… I’m just not feeling it today.”

“And that’s fine, it’ll come back to you soon.”

He nodded at your words. “Can I spend the night?” He then asked softly.

“Of course,” You answered, you were still playing with his hair, although your actions were a little more absentminded now. “You know you’re always welcomed here.”

“Mm, I wasn’t planning on sleeping over, but I’ve never felt this relaxed in so long.” He apologized anyways, as he stretched in your lap, looking almost like a cat with his long body, and his eyes stared up into yours. “I love you.”

You just smiled back, and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep on your lap, eyelids fluttering every so often as he entered a deep slumber. Eventually your legs began to feel a little numb from the weight of his body on yours, but you didn’t do anything about it. Not when he was finally able to rest for the first time in a while. Soon enough, you also fell asleep on the couch, not in the very best position, admittedly, though that was a problem to deal with in the morning. Things like that could wait.

So yeah, life did suck at times. But if you had each other by your sides, you both knew you could get through it. And that “getting through it” could also mean taking a break, taking a moment to recollect yourself, before continuing that long run ahead of you.

And it’s okay if you need to take a break.

#pentagon fanfic #pentagon yanan #yanan #yanan fanfic #yanan x reader #pentagon fluff #pentagon angst #yanan fluff #yanan angst #requests #nose-bandaid

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hebescus · 3 years

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this is from this ask game and i just want to fill them all out for lawlight. maybe i'll do other ships too later.

who cooks normally?

watari. next question. jkjk but seriously none of them can cook, the closest thing light get to do to actually cook is helping his mom boil vegetables. don't get me started with L. but i think L would make a move to make something, following a recipe for Light. Light tried to do this back and ending up burning the kitchen and himself (shh i'm self projecting my boiling water incident)

how often do they fight?

like, fight fight, rarely. but they argue lots. but when they are actually fighting, shits are scary, you can't bear to be in that room.

what do they do when they’re away from each other?

Detective L style video calls, where L can see Light's face but not vice versa, Light understood though. It becomes boring when they don't have anyone to poke fun at, they're saps and obsessed with each other. One time L can only last 3 days before he send Light a plane ticket to meet him.

nicknames for each other?

i have a fondness for them using the pet name 'love'. usually used in very casual and not-minding occasions like when passing each other files or asking what topping they want to add to their dish. i also obsessed when light is compared to honey, and i think L would call him that, but contrary to the previous use, this one was said in soft, kinda existential 'oh my god i'm so in love with you' moments. which is not often, but light loves every single one of those moments.

who is more likely to pay for dinner?

L, like, duh, this bitch is fucking loaded. And he knows it. But when Light would insist to pay he'd let him (with a little force ofc).

who steals the covers at night?

Light. To a point where L had to prepare spare blankets on the feet of the bed. Well, only for him to wake up shivering because said blankets were already wrapped in Light's body.

what would they get each other for gifts?

Light would give L something unique, borderline weird that he could put on his working table and chuckled at it (while thinking of Light, ofc) when he got a bit stressed. L would give Light clothing/accessories. Like a cool watch, or a shirt that Light really wanted but when L told him to buy it he said "it's ok, i don't really want it i just kinda like it" bcs of the price.

who remembers things?

They both do. Their brains have lots of capacity. But it kinda leans towards Light bcs he is most likely to remind L of little things.

who cusses more?

L. Light generally has less cursing in his vocabulary, he only uses it when he's pissed or in pain. L uses it whenever he wants. In different languages he knows. Although as time went Light began to cuss more around him, though not as much.

what would they do if the other one was hurt?

first just give each other time alone, they understand that enough, they have a similar method.The difference is Light needs more physical comforting to clear his mind, while L took longer alone time then Light's already comforting presence in silence while he had a snack until he felt a bit better.

who kissed who first?

L was the one who stared at Light's lips first. Light was the one who moved closer. L was the one who leaned in. Light was the one who closed the gap lightly. L was the one who deepened it. So kinda both? Or Light id you count it when their lips touch.

who made the first move?

Well, brushing cheeks when looking over one's shoulder to a thing they're working on and slightly propping his chin on the other's shoulder is a first move right? then it's light. But if giving his personal phone number when the world, hell even the task force that closely work with him never in a million years had a chance counts as a first move, that would be L.

who started the relationship?

They could kiss a hundred times, come over at least 3 times a week, call almost every night when the other's away, move in together, have Light titled as L, and be with each other for another 40 years and none of them ever have a moment to have the 'starting relationship' talk. Their anniversary is just the date they kissed for the first time.

#death note #light yagami #lawlight #l lawliet #these kind of shits are fun to do

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onyourzeus · 3 years

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all alone | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: all alone pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: heavy angst, fictional universe words: 3.7k

inspired by: 50 proof by eaJ (give it a listen if you please, here) author’s note: this is my first fic in years, feedback appreciated.

content warning: alcohol use, swearing, description of anxiety and loneliness

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

It’s not a matter of when, but of how you’re going to stop yourself. They keep saying it heals with time, but no one ever tells you how much time you need to feel completely fine again.

So, instead of waiting for that moment, you take it upon yourself to numb the pain inside. It’s easier to keep it bottled up, then pretend to wash it away with age-old whiskey taken from a nearly empty cabinet.

Your friend reminded you to buy anything other than 50 proof alcohol, but that’s what’s left on your grocery list nowadays.

She’d come by to keep you company, but there’s always an excuse. An emergency meeting, a family gathering, a blind date across town.

It’s okay, you text her repeatedly. At this point, you’d rather she focus on herself than judge you for decisions affecting your life.

The moment they get angry at you, it is time to push them away.

You’re not about to be the reason for another falling out; another heartbreak; another memory turned sour and hard to swallow.

A big gulp of fiery hot liquid comes into contact with your throat, and you exhale with a wince. Ah, just the way you think you like it.

But no one’s stopping you, so why not keep going? You haven’t reached your limit yet, even though you’re not sure what that would look like. It’s no matter, though, it’s your apartment— your bathroom floor, your money, and your own fate decided.

Once the tears trail down your cheek, you have a moment of self-awareness. What are you doing? Glancing at your slippers, sweaty oversized shirt, and frizzy strands of hair sticking out of your head— when exactly did you start looking like this and decided, “Yeah, I feel comfortable in my own skin.”?

You dart your tongue out slightly, tasting salt on the corner of your mouth. It’s wet as the tears keep coming. Tonight’s one of those nights, you laugh sarcastically.

You’re probably going to play russian roulette with your medicine cabinet tomorrow; you’ll either be lucky and find a couple of painkillers lying around or be reminded of the emptiness that surrounds you. Usually it’s the latter, but maybe you’ll be lucky this time?

You scoff loudly at the idea. Another gulp of alcohol, and it stops the tears momentarily. Just so you can indulge in the sound of your heavy breathing, vision blurring the sight of your kitchen.

Your phone lights up on the couch, buzzing and emitting a soft light that disturbs the dimness of the room. It can’t be your friend, it was a double date night with her co-worker, or some shit you don’t really care for. Although you remember pieces of memories that include you being in the same exact situation a few months prior; it’s a bit hazy now, probably due to the alcohol.

But also because you use what coordinated strength you have to approach the ringing sound. You can’t make up the caller ID which should be the first red flag that you shouldn’t answer the phone.

You never do when you’re like this, but something inside you just doesn’t care anymore.

You slide your finger across the screen, fumble through the circles you can make out until a static hum goes off louder than usual. Finally on speaker mode, you put the phone back on the couch as your body drops down on the floor.

Resting the bottle on your side, you cradle your heavy head against the palm of your hand and exhale a long drawn out, “Heyyyyyyy, who’s this?”

God, you sound horrible.

You hear nothing but static, and wonder if there never was a call at all. “Is anyone there? Hello? Hello?” You’re starting to get annoyed, grabbing hold of the bottle’s neck and taking a short swig. It causes you to cough, your fist pounding helplessly against your chest.

“What are you doing?” He sounds sad, disappointed, and concerned on the other end. You don’t know who it is, but the knots in his voice deem familiar to you, somehow.

“Who is this? I’m gonna call the cops on you,” you drawl out, not understanding your own logic. “Why are you calling me at—” you try and check for a watch on your wrist to no avail, so you leave the question at that.

Hiccuping, you blurt out, “I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s Younghyun. Leehi keeps calling me, asking to check up on you. Did you receive her messages?”

Frankly, you understood at least two words with his reply. Leehi and messages, immediately you seethe with anger once again. Your friend on the double date texted you? With droopy eyes, you check your notifications, and the caller is telling the truth.

10 text messages left unread, and none of those words she sent mean shit.

��Tell her to fuck off.”

“I won’t do that. Where are you? At the bar or in your apartment?” He keeps asking all these questions he doesn’t have the right to in the first place. You feel your face scrunch up in frustration, figuring out who’s so concerned at your well-being so randomly on a Thursday night.

“I’m not telling you anything. I don’t know you! Please stop bothering me, sir,” your voice cracks in the end, a semblance of fear creeping up onto you. This is why you never answer calls with alcohol controlling your system.

“It sounds quiet in there, so you’re in your apartment,” he continues, ignoring your nonsensical pleas. “I’m nearby, can you please stay put for another 20 minutes or so? I’m coming to check up on you.”

“I told you I’m calling the police if you even come near my doorstep!” Your frantic tone causes your body to shiver, welled up tears leaving eyes that start to sting.

No one has been at your apartment for months; it’s not that they don’t ask. You don’t want them to come in. You don’t want anyone to see how you’ve been when you’re all alone.

He calls your name on the other end, and again, and again he whispers it like a gentle reminder. A song to soothe your anxious mind, and it works. For a moment, you remember the feeling of comfort and security in the form of arms wrapped around you, and this very same voice to calm you down.

“It’s Younghyun, okay? Please take deep breaths, you’re okay. You’ll be okay. I’m on my way very soon,” Younghyun instructs. His hushed voice contrasts your shaking whimpers, yet you follow what he says with relative ease. It’s so familiar, fragments of flashbacks filling your mind one after the other.

“Please unlock the door soon so I can come inside. I don’t have a spare key anymore,” he continues. That’s weird, he always had it to access your apartment whenever he wanted. You were the one to insist on that, too, since he basically lived with you for… a while.

Reality tries to get in the way of the memories, you block it off for just a little bit more with the last drop of alcohol. It should last you throughout the night.

In a daze, you do what Younghyun told you: unlock the door, and take deep breaths. You don’t want to be completely sober, so you refrain from drinking water even if your throat has been begging you to.

A lucky soju bottle hides itself from an empty carton of milk inside the fridge, so you grab it hastily. No shot glasses needed, you go straight for it.

Younghyun didn’t tell you to stop, so why should you? But something in your stomach suggests you do. It’s a wincing pain you’ve had before, but this time it digs deeper than that. A liver concern, dehydration, or perhaps guilt?

You couldn’t think any longer as you heard a soft knock against the front door. Followed by Younghyun coming in quietly, his steps barely audible. As if he’s never set foot in your apartment before. Or at least, maybe it feels different this time.

As if you haven’t seen him and remember his presence anymore.

“Hey,” he greets you quietly, and his voice is so much better in person. “It’s dark in here.”

You’re not sure how to move forward from here. You’re back on the floor, head laying weirdly on the couch that your neck has started to hurt. Your hands hold tight onto the soju bottle as if it’s about to be taken away from you. It’s the one tangible thing keeping you grounded. Your mind begins to float away again upon seeing Younghyun’s face.

He has that effect on you, but you didn’t consider it ever happening in months.

You think you’re sleepy, but really you become hyper aware of his every move. It’s just hard to see with droopy eyes, and the silent steps he takes on the hardwood floor.

He turns the light on the hallway to the bathroom, and even with its faintness you squint at the source of any kind of brightness in the room.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to step on anything,” Younghyun apologizes. He places a plastic bag on the kitchen counter and takes out what looks to be a bottle.

Definitely not alcohol, you frown.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” you tell him first, the croak of your voice so heavily dissimilar to the friendliness of his. Yours sound guarded, unsure of yourself. “I have this,” you add as you sway the soju bottle in the air. The liquid spills on top of your head, and Younghyun is quick to take it away from you.

“H-hey—” you argue, but the cold bottle of water has now replaced your source of alcohol, and your lips continue to curl downard. Younghyun shortly laughs at your reaction, but you don’t find it funny.

“That was mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Give it back.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Prick,” you mutter under your breath. “Don’t let it go to waste, then, drink.”

Younghyun sighs, shaking his head while meeting your figure on the floor. The soju bottle remains on the counter, out of your reach. His slanted eyes point towards the neglected bottle around your grasp.

You find yourself staring mindlessly, his face showing smooth textures and a hint of base make up doning his features. You’re in awe, just like before, of the beauty in front of you. So close to touch, just the tip of your fingertips to graze against his skin.

If only you didn’t feel so guilty and looked like shit.

“Staring at me won’t make you sober up any sooner,” he chastises you, sitting with his legs crossed. He looks dapper, a fine suit without a tie and two buttons opened up. Was he at a photoshoot? A company dinner? A date?

That last thought shoots a strange numbing sensation on your chest.

“Why are you here?”

Younghyun looks taken aback at your bluntness. It doesn’t seem like you’re drinking that water anytime soon as your focus shifts at his presence in your apartment. He lets it go this time, then, entertains your question for the sake of your satisfaction.

“I told you. Leehi called me. She’s been worried about you recently.”

“Oh, has she?” You sass him just for the sake of it.

“Yes,” Younghyun doesn’t give in to your bluff, his voice suddenly firm and unnerving. “She cares about you a lot, and I understand if she hasn’t had the time to come see you very often anymore, but she works long hours and—”

“Why are you defending her? Did you just come here to lecture me like a little kid? I know how the world works, Younghyun. I know people can be busy, and that they have their own fucking problems to deal with. I know, okay? Fuck, I know that!”

The words just leave your mouth like poison, it was ready to spill out of your guts all of a sudden. It just needed an opportunity to.

You didn’t expect it to come tonight— in front of Younghyun, out of everyone.

Maybe that would slap him cold and hard with what’s going on. Maybe that’s the final straw with you, not the uninviting welcome to your apartment, not the refusal to drink the water he’s bought you, but the words you have spoken. It’s always been the most hurtful.

You avoid his gaze, suddenly feeling small and even more guilty of how you’re acting. You know you’re not supposed to lash out like this, you hate angry confrontations that can be avoided. But this is why you drink alone, cry alone, and fall asleep when the sun goes up— alone.

Younghyun was never supposed to be here witnessing this.

Just like how you predicted, you see him stand up and walk away. It’s what you deserve, right? No one ever wanted to stay.

But you don’t hear the door slam shut following his departure. You don’t hear his footsteps trudge their way out of the door, out of your life once again.

Younghyun approaches the corner of the living room where the heater is, and turns it on.

“I don’t know how you do it, but I won’t be able to stand the cold like this,” he says with the same gentle, knowing tone of his. “I hope you don’t mind me turning the heat on a little bit. Are you warm, though?”

You don’t understand what’s going on.

Yes, it’s been a chilly autumn season but not that you cared. The alcohol hits you from within, igniting unfound frustration, anger, and desperation in every corner of your soul then almost instantly numbs it all for you.

With parted, dry lips you manage a meek shake of the head. The sweat on your shirt dried up, and your shorts aren’t doing any better making you feel cozy either. You compensate by hugging yourself, the condensation of the bottled water touching the goosebumps on your skin.

“You should probably drink that before it gets lukewarm,” Younghyun suggests, walking three steps forward to sit next to your figure. He gives you space, almost like a shield in between your bodies in which either of you are afraid of breaking.

Finally, you relent to his wish and chug the water in seconds. It cools your throat along with your state of mind. A bit more stable now, with the way you see things, and process your surroundings. Your conscious eyes land on Younghyun’s worried gaze, and you struggle not to fall back into them.

“I’m… not really mad at Leehi, I hope she knows that,” you quip quietly. The haziness drifts away from your consciousness and floats midair. It clings to the barrier in between you and Younghyun, frosting up unseen glass as Younghyun studies your features carefully. And he waits for more of what you have to say.

You don’t follow through anymore, so he adds to the conversation. “I’m sure she knows. She’s just concerned about you.”

You reply with a subtle nod, wishing you had more water to drink.

“I’m worried about you, too.”

And he says the magic words that start the first broken piece of glass stopping you from seeing him eye to eye. You turn your figure away from his sitting one, knowing that the more you attempt to find the answers in his eyes the harsher the tears will come from your own.

“You shouldn’t be. I’m fine.” What a massive fucking lie, you think bitterly. It’s not like you to lie out loud, You say what’s on your mind when needed. And if it isn’t, then you know best not to bother others and keep it to yourself.

“C’mon, we both know that’s not true,” Younghyun disagrees— in the most polite way he can that it hurts. It hurts to hear him pander to your childish behavior right now, to have him tiptoe his way around your insecurities.

This is what you didn’t want to happen, and yet in the end you meet your own demise this way.

“How can I help?” He urges on.

He can’t.

“I want you to feel better.”

You won’t.

“Please tell me how.”

You don’t even know the answer to that.

He sighs, but he tries hard not to let it bother you. Younghyun’s always been like that, so perfect and so accommodating. Wasn’t that supposed to be a sweet gesture from a lover? To know your needs, and meet you in the middle. You basically met a match made in heaven with him years ago.

What went wrong?

“I can’t believe you still have that shirt,” Younghyun points out. He pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them tight. He’s trying to look so small, innocent.

It’s funny, you think, and recall the nights he convinces you to be the big spoon for once. His sturdy frame was difficult for your arms to gather in one warm embrace, but whenever you tried he never complained. And it was nice.

You try to regain focus, and look down at the shirt you’re wearing. The print has faded so much that anyone who didn’t know its history wouldn’t have guessed what words were imprinted on it originally. But you do, and for a moment you thought you had forgotten— or at least, actively erased from your mind.

But this shirt has always made you feel like you have a sense of connection to this world, to a person you once held in your arms.

“I can’t believe we had Dowoon design that logo before. Nobody really told us how it really looked,” Younghyun chuckles in the night air, temperature going up a few degrees.

It wasn’t hot, you weren’t bothered, it was just… right.

And suddenly, you remember what he’s talking about. Because you were there, and you were this close to dropping the truth onto them that yes, it’s hideous, no one will buy your merch, but the grin on their faces and the spark of excitement in the room was too huge to disrupt. You then convinced yourself that yes, their fans won’t mind, they love you for your music. They love you for you.

You were supposed to love Younghyun for who he is.

“I liked it— eventually,” you admit and Younghyun raises an eyebrow. Defending yourself before he gets a say, you add, “It’s a sort of charm you and the others had. Up and coming in the scene, innocent boys singing their hearts out because you have nothing better to do.”

“Hey now, I was in college with you. I had midterms literally the day after our first official gig,” Younghyun corrects you lightly, and you do remember that. You’re starting to remember it all, like a kaleidoscope of days, weeks, and years through Younghyun’s starry eyes.

You don’t realize the barrier has begun to shatter until you feel the heat of his hands hovering over yours.

“What is it? Tell me, please. Tell me what’s on your mind,” you hear him say repeatedly. He has even moved so much closer to you, his hands grasping yours the way you held the bottle of whisky for nights on end.

He holds you like he cares, like he doesn’t want for you to disappear. For a second time.

“I let you go. I let you go, and now I’m left with nothing but haunted memories of you. Of us,” you sob into him, the sturdiness of his body keeping you from shaking terribly.

Younghyun wraps his arms around you, the way he would when you fell asleep waiting for him late at night on the weekends. Younghyun cradles your fragile figure within his tight embrace, the same way he’d tuck you in bed when fatigue overcomes your system. Even when he’s tired himself, even when he’s on a tightrope of his own priorities— he made you his first.

But you didn’t want that, you knew that wasn’t good for him, his career. The peak of his fame alongside friends he’s known as family for so long would be right around the time you decided to move to a different city and pursue your own passion.

There was no way it’d work. You’d be too far away from their studio, his and his bandmates’ apartment, the company building, everything. Everything Younghyun built from the ground up with his talent, his opportunistic mind, his own purpose in life.

The visits happened less often, the calls coming in at hours you couldn’t accommodate for anymore. People flock to him, and it’s the sort of crowd you flinch at, disassociate yourself with, it’s not who you want to be.

But it was Younghyun’s, and you loved him so much to take that away from him.

And yet, in the place you’ve buried yourself deep; hours away from where you once lived with Younghyun, months after the dreaded decision you falsely stood your ground for. He’s here, with you.

Does he still love you now?

“Don’t think too much right now, okay? You worry your pretty face with all your troubled thoughts like that,” Younghyun reassures you softly. If you had the strength to react to his superfluous words, you’d do so just like before. But exhaustion overcomes you— from the drinking, the sobbing, and the weight of your guilt draping over Younghyun’s shoulders as he embraces you even further.

You don’t deserve such warmth, such tender love, you hurt him. He can’t love you after that.

“I’m sorry—”

“No,” Younghyun shakes his head, ruffling your hair next to his face. He lets you go for half a second, and before you know it his hands are secured around your waist again. You don’t protest, but your eyes seem mesmerized by the way his demand you to see him.

“I’m sorry,” he shares your words, “for not coming sooner.”

The next sunrise doesn’t sting you in the eyes this time. This time, you fall asleep without nightmares accompanying you in bed. And this time, you wake up to what seems like a beloved past of yours. But it’s not, it’s the next day, and Younghyun stayed.

You let him.

#young k scenarios #young k x reader #young k imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #by:jiae

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hypmic-writings · 4 years

Note

Ooh! I love this blog and have been waiting for requests to open! Could I ask for a scenario with Hifumi meeting a girl who’s afraid of men? Maybe some friends or coworkers drag her to where Hifumi works to try and help her? Whether it ends platonically or romantically is up to you! Thank you and keep up the good work! 💚

Okay, this one is super cute! I love the idea of Hifumi trying to help himself be comfortable around women, but also being able to use his charms to help women be comfortable around him too. Also, I swear every time I write for him, I find myself falling a little bit more in love ugh he’s so pretty it hurts. Anyways, hope you like this~

“You have to come with us, Y/N! It’ll be so much fun!”

“Yea, please come!”

You listened to your friends as they begged you to join them on one of their escapades around town and sighed heavily. They had spent the entire time discussing a host club located not too far and, even though you had explained to them that you didn’t want to go, they weren’t letting up.

“We really think that it might help you! We know how you are around guys and…well…just trust us, please?” one of your friends said, looking at you earnestly. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, insisting that it was all just too much, and you would unfortunately be unable to go with them.

“How the hell did I end up here?” you mumbled under your breath as you handed your ID to the man in front of the Shinjuku host club. Your friend giggled in her slightly tipsy state and threw her arm around you, thanking you for coming and promising that you’ll have fun.

“I doubt it…” you thought to yourself as you walked through the red and gold doors.

The initial room when you entered was quiet and calm with gently piano music playing in the background. You furrowed your brow and were about to question your friend when she pulled you along towards the bar.

You ordered a drink, making sure to pace yourself since you assumed that it would be a long night, and once it was made for you, your friend was pulling you through yet another door. This time, the room you entered was louder with booths and tables surrounding a dance floor.

The music was a bit louder here, but not to the point that you couldn’t still have a conversation with others. There were only a few people dancing, and even then, it was not the rambunctious, rowdy dancing you were used to seeing at clubs. Overall, everything seemed more put-together and classy than an average nightclub. Since this was your first time at a host club, you really had no idea what to expect, but you felt your pulse begin to rise at the sight of all of the men surrounded by beautiful women and vice versa.

“Y/N, come here!” one of your friends said, pushing you towards one of the empty booths. You took a deep breath and glanced around nervously, ensuring that you sat down between your two friends so that no man could try to suddenly slide next to you.

“So…what do we do now?” you asked apprehensively, looking between your friends for some sort of direction.

“Well, I asked for Hifumi and he’s never late so he should be here any minute,” your friend responded with a smile and a sip of her drink. You were about to ask who that was when you realized that someone was walking up to your table.

“Hello, my darlings! I’m sorry to keep you all waiting, especially when you look so stunning tonight.”

You stared at the man in front of you with wide eyes, feeling multiple emotions hit your chest at the same time. There was no way you could deny that he was handsome – he was wearing a fitted suit with a yellow rose in his front pocket pouch that perfectly matched his golden hair and eyes.

You felt yourself swallow hard though, as he leaned down to kiss your friend’s hand and shot her a wink. You were reminded that he was a man. All the thoughts and experiences you previously had with men floated through your mind at a rapid pace as your breath began to pick up ever so slightly.

Would he be just as commanding and dismissive as the rest of them?

Before you could react, he was in front of you, staring up at you from where he was kneeled on the floor. He reached for your hand but you instinctively twitched it back towards you.

You realized your mistake and watched in terror as his smile faltered ever so slightly. Guilt washed over you like a tidal wave as you were reminded of all the times you had refused men’s advances. Would he be upset that you had pulled away from him? Would he demand your hand back? Your heart was about to fly out of your chest and you debated running back towards the entrance when you were suddenly pulled from your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, kitten, did I scare you?” the man kneeling before you asked, giving you what was quite possibly the gentlest smile you had ever seen in your entire life. Once again, your breath was caught in your throat and you could not respond.

You weren’t sure how to.

“She’s just a little nervous,” you friend sitting next to you chimed in. “This is her first time doing this, so be nice, Hifumi!” she exclaimed with a laugh.

The man you now knew to be Hifumi glanced at your friend with a smile that was a bit more playful in nature and hummed lightly.

“Aren’t I always?” he asked, chuckling a bit and leaning over to kiss her hand. His gaze traveled back to yours for a moment and he gave you another soft smile. This time, he didn’t reach out for you, instead standing up and taking a few steps back to give you some space.

“Well, I’m happy you were able to come, kitten. Can I have your name?” he asked, looking at you with sincere eyes. You bit your lip but took a breath and calmed yourself before sending him the smallest of smiles.

“I’m Y/N,” you whispered, slowly. Your friend rested a hand on your back, not visible from where the others were sitting and patted you slightly, showing she was proud of you.

“What a beautiful name! I’m Hifumi Izanami” Hifumi exclaimed, sitting down on the couch across from you and your friend. “You ladies will take care of me tonight, right?” he asked with a cheeky smile. Your friends booed and pouted, saying that it was his job to take care of them, to which Hifumi simply laughed and nodded

You watched with curiosity as everyone began chatting up a storm. They were talking in such familiar terms that it was as if they were all his childhood friends. You would never understand how they could be so casual with someone like him.

But as the night went on, and you grew courage to add bits and pieces to the conversations, you began to understand why your friends enjoyed coming here so often. And also why they wanted you to come too.

It was because of Hifumi.

The man was somehow able to be charming and bold and, if he wanted, you were sure that he could command the entire room with just a single word, but there was also something else. He never talked down to you or any of your friends.

His flirtations were compliments and excitement and showing interest in anything and everything that was being discussed. He never made you feel dismissed, and every time you spoke, he was acutely listening, as if hanging on to every word. Even when you weren’t speaking, you would see him shoot you an encouraging smile every now and then.

You weren’t sure how much of that was genuinely himself and how much of that was professional courtesy, but you did know that it made you feel at ease…comfortable. You felt heard and appreciated by him.

And that wasn’t ever something you had expected to feel with a man.

The night continued and, with the continuing support of your friends, you found yourself being able to actively participate in some of the conversations more frequently. When it was finally time to leave, you helped your friends gather their things and watched as Hifumi made the rounds once more, saying goodbye to each of them.

“Did you have a good time tonight, Y/N?” he asked, walking over to you. You noticed that he kept a bit of distance and were silently thankful for the gesture. “I hope I made your first time enjoyable,” he added with a soft smile.

You felt your heart beat faster in a different way as you shyly nodded.

“Y-yea, I…had a really nice time,” you offered, smiling slightly and briefly meeting his gaze before looking down once more.

“I’m so glad,” he said. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Please come back with your friends any time you like. I’d be more than happy to see you again,” he added. You glanced up once more and nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Thank you…” you said. Hifumi nodded and was about to continue when your friend pulled you towards here, mentioning that you had to get home before it started to rain. You agreed and glanced back at Hifumi who was sending you all off with a wave and a grin.

Yes…it might be nice to go back and visit him again.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hifumi izanami #hifumi x reader #hifumi izanami x reader #hifumi #imagines #scenarios #hypmic scenarios #hypmic imagines

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dabisrightnipple · 3 years

Text

LIMERANCE

SUNA RINTAROU X READER

!!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST AND/OR ADD ONTO!!

Word Count: 6.8k

links

Li·mer·ance /hee-mer-annce/ noun The state of being infatuated with another person

a/n: All characters are aged up, college AU

Six Months. It’s been six months since that god-awful day. The day where your heart broke into a million pieces almost as if it were a glass vase being dropped from several stories. You still remember the way he looked at you. The way his face went from a sadistic smirk to wide-eyed with disbelief before his eyes relaxed and mouth curved into a smirk once more, a look that burned your heart with even the smallest glance.

'Baby what are you talking about? You know you can’t live without me, why would you do this to yourself?’ You still remember how the vibrations of his voice rang into your ears, waves of guilt flowing through your veins as you meet his deep green eyes.

You knew he was manipulative, toxic, and just all-around a difficult person even though his flaws outweigh the good you still found yourself falling deeper and deeper into his little trap. You constantly found yourself getting lost in his touch again and again as if he's never harmed you, it's almost as if your brain forgot about all the shit he's done. You always ran back to him, your friends knew, Sunas’ teammates knew, and most of all Suna knew and he always took advantage of that.

You twitched as you felt an eraser hit the side of your head. You slowly look to your left seeing Kita giving you a cold stare.

“Pay attention.” he plainly said. You replied by nodding your head in acknowledgment as your eyes flickered back to the professor as he gave his closing statement before dismissing the class. You huffed out a sigh of relief as you shuffled your way out of the lecture hall, trying your best to avoid people since you weren’t exactly in the best mood.

Once you were outside you mindlessly walked to the small coffee shop located next to the campus library. Zoning out once again as you mindlessly stared out into nothing. Music flowing through your eardrums from your headphones as you walked along with the beat and to your dismay you were interrupted from your thoughts by none other than your ex himself, Suna.

You looked over at him and his friends longingly, regret filling your senses as you thought about all the volleyball games and parties you used to attend with them. You actually became quite good friends with the Miya twins, Aran and Sakusa. You admittedly missed hanging out with them but due to the unforeseen circumstances, you knew if you went anywhere near them you’d somehow end up back in Sunas bed.

Sighing once again, you adjusted your hair before looking straight ahead once again, focusing on getting to your destination. Little did you know, small, fox-like eyes were staring directly at you, soaking up your figure. He wasn’t done with you yet and he knew you weren’t either.

He tried his best, relentlessly using all the chances he could get to have you once again. He knew he was toxic but he didn't mind it. He secretly loved how hung up you were on him, it was as if he was a drug. Although he un-admittedly also thought of you as a drug, your warm features and soft-touch drove him crazy, and unbeknownst to you, you ‘breaking up with him only made him more addicted. It was hella toxic, even a 2nd grader could tell, but he just didn’t care and Suna knew that drove you over the edge.

You made your way across campus as you walked into the bustling coffee shop, the atmosphere softening at the sweet aroma of coffee. You relaxed as you quietly waited in line glancing around at all the other students studying, meeting with friends, or… on a date. You swiftly averted your eyes from the happy couple that sat in you and Sunas’ old spot, nevertheless being reminded of Suna again. Slowly peering back at the happy couple only to regret your decision…

It was a cold Sunday morning, you slowly stretched out your arms as you let out a little grunt of relief extending your weakened muscles. Before throwing your arms back onto your white silky sheets. It was nice, peaceful, quiet…

‘Ding’

You let out an obnoxious dissatisfied grunt at your phone interrupting your little tranquil moment, quickly picking up the phone without checking the caller ID.

“What?” venom dripped from your tongue as your perfect morning was now ruined.

“Wow baby, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Oh- sorry, I just woke up.”

“I can tell sweetie~” Suna’s voice crept through the cellular device, his muffled voice thick with a hyogo accent as you paled slightly. “I’m going to the coffee house later to study for the upcoming midterms. Wanna come with?”

“Ughhhh,” You let out yet another dissatisfying groan, “Don’t remind me, but yea I’ll come. What time?”

“Eh, I don’t know, maybe around 4.” You looked at the clock reading the time '10:23 a.m.'

“Okay, I’ll meet you there in a bit. Bye, I love you.” You cooed, your once frustrated attitude now softening up. Although the warmth his voice gave you was comforting, Suna was being nice. Almost too nice…

You laid back down for a bit, dismissing the nagging thought by scrolling through Twitter, mentally preparing yourself for a fight that will probably break out between the two of you later on. You two always fought, but you also had a small feeling of hope that maybe, just maybe today would be a good day.

You looked up from your computer staring at Suna. Your eyes scanned over his features as you appreciated each little detail about him. Taking a small sip from your drink, your face softening at the wonderful feeling of the liquid rushing down your throat.

“Stop starting y/n, you're gonna distract me,” Suna whined, accentuating the last syllables of your name to be more dramatic.

“Ah, sorry I was just spacing out-”

"Mhm and I'm pregnant.” Suna dead-panned, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. “Y’know I'm not stupid y/n I can tell when a cutie, such as yourself likes what they see.” You started as Suna again, mouth hanging agape a bit. Mind racing with thoughts as you tried to figure out a smart-ass reply to the bastard.

Suna leaned over, arm traveling across the table as his large lanky hands brushed against your chin, closing your mouth. The cool metal from his rings nipped at your warm skin, causing you to twitch your head back in response.

“Baby, stop acting like this, do you really want me to get turned on right now. When I'm stressed and angry?” As much as you wouldn’t mind getting railed by him, you also had a final you needed to study for. You shook your head, watching as Suna retracted his arm and going back to type in whatever he was studying for. You took another elongated sip from your drink, letting out a sigh in content as you got back to typing in your notes.

“Next?” You heard the barista call out as you shook your head. You became self-aware of your surroundings once again before apologizing and placing your order. You apologized once more as you scurried off into a corner and waited for your name to be called.

After waiting for a good 10 minutes you received your order and shuffled your way through the crowded coffee house, trying your best to not bump into anybody. After exiting from the big glass doors you took a small sip of your drink. Your eyes glowering in delight as you continued to walk through campus, dodging students left and right.

Sighing in success you finally made it off-campus as you walked in the direction of your apartment. The climate started to drop along with the sun, the neon lights advertising various fast food restaurants flickered on.

Along the way you noticed a little ramen shop you and Suna used to frequent, you leisurely inhaled the air around you. Your lungs filling with the spicy, yet sweet aroma of the curry and ramen. Your mouth watered as you found your feet moving towards the entrance, walking into the small establishment, relishing the homey atmosphere as you made your way to the cash register. You ordered a mall takoyaki dish, delightfully watching as the employee prepared the dish in front of you. You said your thanks as you paid and made your way out of the little complex.

Sitting down on the closest curb you closed your eyes, basking in the soft moonlight as you munched on your salty snack. Sighing in content as you savored the chewiness as your esophagus warmed from the contact of the warm treat.

You opened your eyes, pupils being met with the neon glow of the Tokyo night lights before seeing blinding headlights shining down the street. Ears being met with the sound of Doja Cats’ song ' streets' blaring on the radio as the car purred slowly through the street. Slowly coming to a complete stop right in front of you. The door forcefully swung open to reveal a tall brown-haired male, and before you could comprehend who it was-

“Hey, baby, happy six-month anniversary of ghosting me,” Suna grunted, voice deeper and harsher than what you had remembered. As you were deciphering what he meant, it hit you.

‘ This bitch’

“What do you mean by ghosting? I clearly broke up with you.” Your voice came out thick and laced with venom as you obnoxiously rolled your eyes.

A new wave of confidence washed over you. After all, you have been anticipating this moment for too long. The day Suna Rintarou will finally come crawling back to you. Sunas deep laugh reverberated through your ears as you peered up at him with a confused look, confidence now vaporing away as Suna’s tall body loomed over you.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t break up with me.” Suna’s eyes narrowed as the smirk on his lips grew, “Baby…” He whispered in a soft voice, which made your emotions come back. ' Shit, no this is exactly what he wants.’

“Did you really think we broke up?” As if Suna’s voice couldn’t get any softer than it was, it was pure and sounded like he genuinely cared for you.

“I- I-”

“Hey, sweetie it’s okay,” You were weak, you knew you lost as soon as you stuttered but damn, him pulling the ' sweetie' card really messed you up. “You’re just confused, here c’mon we’ll go to my place and talk, it’s cold outside.”

“No.”

“What did you just say to me?” It wasn’t even a split second and his voice dropped to a sound so putrid, you flinched in fear.

“I-I said no, okay? Now I’m going home please leave me alone.” You're requesting, trying your best to stand your ground against the chilling persona he gave off.

You closed your to-go box as you stood up, speed-walking away from Suna. You felt his eyes linger on your figure until you made a left, turning out of the alleyway and leaving his eyesight. A loud sigh of relief fled past your lips as you continued to stride your way back to your apartment. You checked the time seeing the digits read 8:42.

‘Damn I need to get home before the creeps come out’

You heard the loud roar of an engine behind you, you could tell whose engine that was from anywhere as you noticed the newfound shadow brewing in front of you from the headlights of said car.

HONK-

You jumped in surprise turning to your right as Suna pulled up next to you.

“Wha-”

“Get in the car.” You looked at him in disbelief, “NOW Y/N.” His voice rang through your ears, causing you to flinch in fear.

The tone of his voice struck a nerve, a nerve only he could hit. You felt as if a bullet had gone through your chest, mouth becoming dry as you shakily obeyed and opened the passenger door.

“Good girl, now sit still and look pretty, we’re gonna go home.” You kept quiet as he commanded you to do, looking out the window as you noticed he passed your apartment.

‘ oh, he meant his ‘home'

You looked down at your lap, anxiously fidgeting with the various rings cushioned on your fingers. Letting out a little displeased sigh as you got closer to his apartment, anxiety nipping at your skin causing goosebumps to trail down your arms. He always does this even before the so-called 'break-up' happened. pretending to not have any feelings unless situations like these occurred only when you two were alone.

“What’s wrong baby?” You let out a tiny hum, peering over at him, you noticed how pale veiny his hands were. You examined them more as you took in the features of the little gold and silver bands. Watching how the little skulls and roses engraved in them worked around his fingers.

“Why did you sigh like that? Are you not comfortable with me, have I been a bad boyfriend?”

“O-oh no, I just thought you were going to drop me off at my apartment.” You answered honestly, fearful for what will come next if you were to tell a lie. Voice coming out a bit snappy due to the sudden displeasement of running into your 'ex'

“Why don't you want to go to my apartment?”

“I just don’t want to be with you right now Suna-” Your head jerked forward as the brake pedal was slammed into the floor.

“Rin.”

“What the fu-”

“Rin. Y/n, that's my name, I don’t ever wanna hear ‘Suna’ come from your mouth again, ya got it?”

“No Suna-”

" Y/n...” His voice rolled off his tongue icy cold, words brittle as you heard the anger arise in his throat. “Are you reeling gonna treat your boyfriend like this?”

‘ Alright, this is the last straw…’

“Suna, I’m not your-”

SLAP.

The sound echoed off your cheek, a burning sensation swept across your face as you looked over at his deep fox-green eyes. Fear ran through your veins as the ‘fight or flight’ anticipation swept through you, making your legs shake in anticipation.

Your mouth hung slightly agape and before your brain could decide what to do your hand found itself on his face as well, slapping it across his left cheek. Astonishment was written all over Sunas face as he cleared his throat and slammed on the gas, this time your head flying back into the headrest. You stayed in that position thinking about the hell you were about to receive as soon as you exited the car.

Suna sped through the parking garage, dodging the oncoming cars before effortlessly sliding into an unoccupied parking space. Grabbing his phone and wallet he got out of the car, slamming his door as loud as he could in the process as he made his way over to your side of the car. Your head rested on the car seat, not moving a muscle for you were too scared as to what's gonna happen as soon as Suna closes the door to his apartment.

The door swung open, revealing Sunas grey sweatpants as he bent down, leaning over you and unplugging the seat belt. Your eyes were met with his toned arms as his calloused hand grabbed your forearm and yanked you out of the car.

Falling sideways out of the car, Suna gripped onto your side as he dragged you through the parking garage and into the hallways of the apartment complex before coming to an abrupt stop in front of his door. You knew he was going to be ruthless tonight, which excited you, in a way, but for the most part, you were not prepared for the hell you were about to experience.

Still, not a single word was spoken between the two of you, for the tension was immensely intimidating. You tried your best to not make eye contact as Sunas’ eyes tried desperately just as he stares into yours. You felt the cold metal against the skin on your neck as it was being yanked to look in his direction.

“You ready?” Suna warned, voice still as brittle as glass, but sharp enough to kill. You didn't reply though, only giving him a needing look saying your body consented, but your head said no. Even if you were to say no Suna still would have drawn you in somehow, so what's the point in denying it.

You knew you wanted him to rail you, so why not take advantage of the moment, Suna always took advantage of you, when you guys were still together so why waste the free invite. The door swung open as you were pulled into the cold atmosphere of Suna's apartment, hairs rising on your limbs as a small shiver ran down your spine.

“Su-Rin, I-”

“Good girl, you finally learned how to say your own boyfriend's name.” Suna mused, half-lidded eyes annoyingly peering down at you.

His signature smirk was painted over his face as he pushed you against the wall placing a harsh kiss on your tender lips. You missed this, this feeling that made your head all warm and fuzzy as if you were drunk on lust. You loved it though, so you always came crawling back to him.

Although it was Suna who made the first move, you felt like the one who was pleading for the slightest touch. The kiss drew on, Suna feeling up your body as your shaky hands came to wrap around his neck and playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss as you tried to provide the same dominant lust as Suna granted you. However, to no avail, you didn't last as you soon became overpowered.

The kiss became sloppier and sloppier as you kept on falling deeper into lusts' hands. You Loved every second of the tension wafting through the air and Suna knew that... That's when it clicked in your head, he was taking advantage of the fact you were falling head-first into his drug-like trap. You silently cursed to yourself as you waited for the right opening before shoving the full-sized man off of you. Luckily he was also deep into the kiss, completely off-guard as he stumbled back a little.

“What the fuck was that for?" You jumped at the harsh words that spewed from his tongue, gravelly voice scratching at your heart.

“I have a boyfriend Rin! I can’t be doing this with you, I-I’m just gonna go home.” Obviously, that was a lie, Suna could tell even before it escaped your mouth. To your dismay though, Suna decided to play along with your little fib.

His rough hands traveled up your chest and latched onto your neck, letting out a deadly chuckle in the process he pressed the pads of his fingertips harder on the sides of your neck. You let out a gasp as your hands rose up and grabbed onto his lofty wrist out of instinct, slowly peering up at him with widened doe eyes.

“What are you talking about Y/n? I'm your boyfriend. Unless... Y/n are you cheating on me?”

“Yea, I guess I am cheating.” You snarkily replied, smirking back up at him. You could tell he was surprised a bit at your newfound confidence, after all the last time he saw you six months ago you submitted to everything he said without hesitation, but you’ve changed since then. “You just couldn’t really fit my needs Suna, what else was I supposed to do?” Your smirk extended across your cheeks as you slowly forgot about the cold hands tightening around your neck.

You were not going to let him win.

“What did you just call me-”

“I said ‘Suna’ and you’re gonna like it.” And there it was again, a slap echoed through the hollow apartment, the metal rings searing at your cheek. Your smile grew with anticipation as you returned the favor by slapping back once again but harder.

The sound that came from your hand colliding with his cheek was awfully louder, although due to your lack of jewelry the pain was less excruciating for him as his right cheek started to turn a light shade of red.

Now, that was the last straw for Suna. As much as he did enjoy seeing you try to be dominant for a minute, his mind was clouded over with the memories of you begging for him to fuck you. With the lust taking over all his senses he forcefully grabbed your hips, swinging you over his shoulder as he leisurely made his way across the kitchen into his room.

Suna, being the sadist he is, decided to slap your ass a few times, He enjoyed how they jiggled against his cheeks as he let out a little sigh of content, his face nuzzling into the side of your ass. Your face became boiling hot from embarrassment, the past confidence slowly slipping away as warmth pooled in your stomach, eagerly awaiting what Suna’s next moves would be.

You felt butterflies blossom in your stomach as you were tossed onto Sunas queen-sized bed. The force of your body hitting the mattress caused you to bounce a few times before looking up with hungry eyes only to be met with his clothed back as the sound of jewelry clashing together filled your eardrums.

Slowly, Suna pulled off his shirt discarding it onto the floor as he steadily turned around. You were now fully turned on as your lust-clouded eyes met with his toned torso, you were eyeing him up and down, soaking up the way his muscles tightened against each other as the memories from your previous sessions filled your head making your cunt boil with anguish.

“Whatcha thinkin' about sweet cheeks?” Ah, it's been too long since you’ve heard that nickname. Suna had given you that nickname due to the deep appreciation he had for your ass, he was always slapping or nuzzling against it. The gratitude he had for it evolved into the nickname 'sweet cheeks'. Although it wasn't meant in a sexual name, the way it fell from his tongue never failed to make you horny.

“You.”

“Mmmm, and what about that boyfriend of yours?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, a mischievous smile grazing over his features as his eyes narrowed down. You knew that face, You had seen it too many times to even count. He was enjoying your little lie too much and although you made it up to get away from him, as ironic as it is you feel as if that little lie just made everything even more fervent.

“I-its fine as long as he doesn’t find out.” your voice came out small and breathy as the bed dipped between your legs watching as Suna crawled up the bed inching closer to your core as if he were a fox hunting down its prey.

“Mmm I think we should record a little video for him, I’m sure he’d love it!”

“N-no it’s fine I don’t think he’s into that- that-” Before you could even finish Suna’s slender fingers made their way into your panties, swiping through your folds before dipping one singular finger into your wet aching hole.

“Hmm~ what was that sweet cheeks?”

“I- he-.” You tried to reiterate your sentence but failed miserably as he curled his finger upwards hitting just the right spot.

“That's what I thought.” His voice dropped from the sweet sarcastic tone of a fox to one of a wolf, deep-pitched and followed with a gravelly groan reverberating from the back of his throat. And just like that, you let out your first moan of the night as his index finger climbed up your slit and teasingly flicked your pearl causing your hips to buck.

“I know you want me instead of that stupid ‘boyfriend’ of yours.”

“N-no-ahh-” He inserted his middle finger along with his index and curled up, pushing against your cervix as you denied his statement.

“Wanna try that again?” He mused, glancing down at your pathetic state. His ego inflated tenfold knowing he could make you this messed up over a few strokes and teases. You stayed silent, words pacing through your head yet nothing could come out.

You wanted to say ‘no’ again, but that would only result in a punishment you were not ready for, you also had the option to just submit yourself to him, but both you and Suna know your bratty ego couldn't be tamed that easily.

“Ah, I see how it is.” Suna stopped the motions with his fingers as he slowly and sensually pulled his finger out of you.

He fixed your underwear and sat up on the bed and grabbing his phone before scrolling through social media. You just laid there in silence as you watched his petty behavior play out before you. ‘ This bitch’ You looked down at his raging boner.

'he has to take care of that so obviously, he’ll come back to play with you.'

A few minutes passed as you both laid there in silence, Suna now scrolling through Twitter looking at the latest volleyball news. He seemed unbothered, but you on the other hand were the complete opposite. Your body was already too excited, constantly twitching and writhing while trying to get some sort of pleasure. You were so close to just masturbating right in front of him but your ego wouldn’t let you do that. ’ God, I hate myself’

“Hey, Rin.” Suna completely ignored you, eyes glued to his phone as he continued to scroll. “Fuck me please.” He still ignored you, acting as if you never even existed.

“Rin?” You waited a few more seconds, hoping some sound would come out of his mouth. “Fine, I guess I’ll just go have my boyfriend take care of this for me.” You rolled your eyes, shifting your weight, getting ready to jump off the bed.

Suna’s calloused hands grabbed your body and flipped you over onto your stomach. Your head digging into the pillows as Suna took in the view of your ass being on full display.

His hand swiftly rising above his head before slamming it down onto your ass, using the full force he would apply during a jump float serve. The clashing of his skin upon yours could be heard from miles away as the reverberation sang through your ears. The outer whites of your eyes tinted red as tears threatened to spew from your eyes as the nerve endings on your skin began to process the immense amount of pain the man has just bestowed upon you. The outer layer of your skin writhed with delight and irritation as it began to change reddened color, with a slight purple tint.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again, you got it?” Voice coming out deep and monotone, he didn’t even sound mad yet his recent actions opposed that, which made it all the more terrifying. You let out a small whimper in reply, still recovering from the excruciating pain he had just inflicted upon you.

“Do you understand Y/n?” Suna asked again, he wanted a clear yes or no answer.

“Y-yes.” You whispered out faintly. Voice coming out as brittle as glass, almost as if you were about to break. You became limp as the red handprint started to swell on your ass, Suna placed his hand over it and began kneading your cheeks between his fingers. Which only hurting you more in the process by pressing down on the newly formed bruise.

“Good girl. Now turn over and look at me.” You obeyed him not offering a word to oppose him, for you were too scared of what he was capable of. Leaning over, you sat up immediately wincing when your butt held the weight of your body as you looked up to meet Sunas face inches from yours.

“You understand the rules now baby? Every time you wanna act like that you're gonna get a nice hard slap to your ass and don’t make me have to pull out the belt. I wouldn’t want to break you this early into the night.” Suna cooed as his rough hands gently cradled your cheeks.

Gripping your jaw, he continued to pull your squished lips toward his. His tongue sticking out to meet yours as your tongues danced together. Sunas’ overpowering yours easily; it was quite pathetic really, how easily you gave into the man in front of you.

Sunas hands drifted down your body, feeling up every inch of your soft and subtle skin. Making sure to get a quick feel of your nipples before sliding his hands down to meet your ass as he slowly kneaded the soft mounds of flesh between his calloused fingers. The sound of small moans and whimpers could be heard throughout the apartment as Sunas mouth continued to attack yours.

His body became too much to handle as you slowly leaned back into the soft pillows. Suna pulled away to look at your messed-up state with his casual poker-face, making sure to not show any emotions of interest as to keep you on edge.

Although he failed to cover up the little twinkle in his eye. It lasted for not even a second, indicating that he had an idea. His hand slowly slid back up your body before meeting your jaw once again. Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows as his thumb and index finger squeezed your cheeks together once again. You gladly accepted his movements, hoping for another kiss, yet you were only met with a mouthful of saliva from your 'ex'.

You twitched at the now, nostalgic substance as your eyes fluttered open, making direct contact with Saunas fox-green eyes as you seductively swallowed his saliva. Sunas tongue ran up your throat before kissing you on your red puffed-out lips, hand coming up to wipe off the excess saliva gathering at the side of your mouth. Pulling off your shirt, Suna dragged his tongue down your body as his other hand caressed your back, unclasping your bra as it fell down your chest along with a small green malachite crystal.

“Why the fuck is there a rock in your bra?” Suna grabbed the malachite, examining it in between his fingers giving you a ‘what the fuck?’ look.

“I-I can explain-”

“Just shut the fuck up, your such a nerd.” Suna bit back, discarding the crystal by tossing it in a corner of the darkened room. Your stomach was filled with butterflies at the new nickname, your degradation kink kicking in as you whimpered for more.

Suna grunted in response as his lips placed soft kisses down your torso, littering little peppered kisses around before placing a long wet sloppy kiss in another. This little pattern continued as he slowly reached past your lacey panties, edging you by slowly nipping at your panties only for his mouth to make contact with your round thighs instead. A small whine escaped your throat as the rising anticipation of his mouth on your clit painstakingly went away.

Bucking your hips in response to his neglect, his teeth made contact with your skin. Taking a nip from the spongy flesh and placing his hand over your waist, keeping a firm hold so you know to not cross the boundaries. Whimpering once more as his soft kisses turned into little nips as punishment for your tiny outburst. Returning the slight abuse to the other thigh, he slowly rose up to your face again. He placed a few chaste kisses on your swollen lips, distracting you while he sneakily slipped off your panties.

Your body quaked in response to his cold fingers entering your clit, dipping into your core to catch your natural lube as he smeared it around your gaping lips. He slowly circled his fingers around your sensitive pearl; stirring you up as your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure of gaining the awaited contact.

Lowering himself down, Suna placed suggestive kisses down your chest, stomach, hips until he achingly stoped at your swollen folds. Placing his tongue onto your sopping wet core before sliding his tongue up your folds, taking in the intoxicating smell of your sex.

Steadily, he took one last erotic lick before wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl. Licking and sucking the steamy pink flesh as little mewls of affection escaped your throat, legs twitching as Sunas tongue swept across your bud in just the right area.

Suna took notice of your little convulse as he continued to swipe his tongue around in the same pattern; sucking even harder and taking in all your juices. Your twitching legs turned into violent shakes, hands gripping at the soft black cotton sheet below you as your moans grew louder and louder.

Your body had a mind of its own as your hips violently thrust towards Sunas mouth, earning you a loud slap to the thigh. You let out a small whine due to the sudden pain and the loss of contact as Suna slowly lifted his head. You looked down seeing his head still slightly in between your legs, chin dripping with your juices.

“Do that again and see what happens.” His voice was low and rough as a deep grunt reverberated off the back of his throat. You happened to be in a bratty mood, due to him giving you the lack of pleasure you desired.

“Sorry, Rin.” You mumbled, putting up a submissive front as you awaited him to dig his face back into your throbbing cunt.

“Good slut.” His head dives back into your folds. You know through the selfish and rough facade Suna puts up, he secretly loves giving you head but he would never admit that. As soon as you had Suna in your trap your bratty side took over as your thighs squeezed over Sunas head. You felt his brows furrowed as he continuously licked over your cunny in the pattern you liked, as his hands raked at the outer sides of your thighs.

Fingers digging into your sweet skin as he did his best to pry your considerably large thighs away in order to get a good breath of air. You bucked your hips up once again at the pleasing release as you were rising to your climax, Suna moving his tongue faster and faster in hopes to be able to breathe sooner. You let out a loud gasp as you squirted into Sunas mouth which he wishfully drank up.

You finally released the chokehold you had on Suna, his head rising up quickly in order to fill his lungs with fresh air. As you regained a bit of your composure you looked at Suna, noticing the layer of sweat that coated his perfect body. Watching as his muscles writhed against each other as his body glistened underneath the soft moonlight glow. While you were admiring his intoxicating physic you failed to notice the hands that slither up your body; tightening their hold on your neck as rough fingers dug into your swollen flesh.

“Turn around.” Suna slowly demanded his voice sending tingles up your back. Although you wanted to listen to him, the brat in you said otherwise.

“No-” Before you could finish sounding out the ‘o’; Suna slapped your cheeks once again.

Awaiting your new response after the harsh interaction. You didn’t let a squeak escape as you flipped yourself over, ass being fully exposed to Sunas’ watchful gaze. Your ass was met with a few small slaps before his dominant hand came raining down onto your right ass cheek. A loud sound erupted from the contact his hand made onto your burning ass. Your hand instinctively came up to shield yourself from more pain only to be grabbed by Sunas larger hand. He slowly guided your hands to meet on top of your head. He pinned them down onto the bed as he continued slapping your ass.

“Yea? You like being a little brat? You just wanna get slapped by me, you little masochist.” Suna taunted. You didn’t reply, as you were being suffocated by the sheets to even think of a sentence to reply with. You felt Sunas hand slowly let go of your hand, grabbing onto your hair instead and pulling your head up, causing you to hiss in pleasure and pain from the harsh touch.

“You’re not gonna answer me? Hah, where’d all that confidence go, sweet cheeks?” He taunted, slapping your ass once more. Although it wasn’t his hand that was slapping around your ass. This time it was his dick. You could feel the veins and ridges from each slap as you got more and more impatient by the minute.

Sticking your ass up even further, you brought your hands down once more to spread your ass open welcoming Sunas large cock inside of you.

“P-please-” That's all he needed. One small ‘yes’ as he rammed into you, touching your cervix as you instinctively arched your back for better access. You let out a loud mewl as your pussy clenched around his dick, trying to re-adjust for his size.

“Yea baby, remember this cock?” Suna groaned as he pulled out once again, slapping it around before thrusting back into you harder than before, causing your eyes to roll back, losing all senses as you relaxed your head as it dangled from the grip Suna had onto the crown of your head.

“Ye-yea I miss it.” You moaned out, voice coming out thick and hoarse. You felt as each and every ridge entered and exited, noting how he angled himself so he would hit your g-spot with every thrust. Filling you with pleasure despite the pain from his rock-hard dick ramming into your tight pussy. Luckily, you started to relax, your hole stretching as your natural lubricants made it easier for Suna to slide in and out of; causing him to move more rapidly and sloppily.

The vulgar sounds of squelching and skin slapping filled your ears, along with Sunas small grunts and groan. Both factors playing together as you hastily started to reach your climax once more. Your hole started to uncontrollably spaz around his large cock earning you a moan from the man railing you into oblivion.

Just as you were about to release your sweet juices, Suna quickly pulled out of you. Picking you up, he laid down and set you on his lap before re-adjusting his dick to your tight cunt as he easily rammed in once again. Your legs spazzed furiously as you tried your best to ride the man below you.

Placing your hands on his firm abdomen, as his hands wrapped around your waist to keep balance as you bounced on his cock. Every time you fell onto his cock, he rhythmically thrust up, pushing even deeper into you, eventually going balls-deep.

You bent down on top of him, meeting his lips once again as you sloppily made out with the God below you. Constantly grinding your hips down on him to keep the friction going. Sunas' hands slithered up from your hips to grab onto your soft mounds, slowly twisting each nipple between his thumb and index finger. He gave your left tit a nice slap before throwing his hands back on your ass, grabbing at your plump and swollen mounds.

"S-Suna! Ah! I- I-m, c-" You tried to cried out but failed as you pathetically started to overstim from the way he pounded into you.

"What was that- my little slut?" You whimpered in response, ass smacking against his balls as you finally found the bliss you've been searching for. Hole clenching as your legs and hips violently twitched, causing you to lose all sense of reality as you sprayed your juices onto Sunas slick cock. Your body stopped working as you were lifelessly being bounced up and down on Sunas cock. You cuddled into his neck as he rammed into one last time.

"Shit-" he breathed out, spraying into your sopping wet pussy. Cum mixing with your as he slowly rode out his orgasm and pulling out of you.

You were splayed across his chest letting out loud gasps and whimpers as your body tried to relax itself from the lustful high you were on. Suna having to do the same, slowly bringing his hand up to play with your hair. You nuzzled further into his neck, placing small kisses onto his nape, him returning the favor, leaving a few light hickies sprinkled across your neck.

"You still gonna call your boyfriend?" Suna lazily asked, already knowing the answer, he just wanted to play with you.

"Yea, actually I should probably go see what he's doing."

"Bitch." Suna whispered as you let out a small giggle.

"Kay, c'mon let's get you cleaned up," Suna suggested. He picked you up, giving you a few little ass slaps, contently sighing as he slowly made his way to the bathroom.

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