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dreamwritersworld · 1 year

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The perfect child. Finale. (Sully family x reader)

All jake could do was think and think and think about all he’s done to his eldest…his little girl.

*flashback*

Y/n did better at practicing her skill than Lo’ak but she didn’t do as good as aiming to her target compared to Neteyam and as soon as they’re father couldn’t hear them Lo’ak got upset at her

“You try too hard! I guess it paid off just to make dad a little happy huh?! You look so upset that you didn’t do better than Netey-“

“I’m not upset.”

“You look so upset! Why are you so mad when I’m just telling the truth?!”

“Because you do it all the time! You talk about me all the time! Everytime Neteyam beats me you say that I’m upset!”

Lo’ak scuffed at Y/n while she held in frustrated tears trying to keep them from falling because she saw her dad coming towards them

“whats going on?!”

“Y/n is fine!” Lo’ak was so panicked at Jake seeing Y/n’s watery red eyes, he felt she was his precious golden child he couldn’t even breathe wrongly against her.

Lo’ak was given a stern look and he broke

“Y/n is upset because she didn’t beat Neteyam!”

That wasn’t the full truth either. Y/n was more upset that Lo’ak was making fun of her so she yanked her bow from the floor picking up arrows and started aiming on the targets more precisely than both Neteyam and Lo’ak’s.

Once she was done shooting three times she turns to her younger brother stating

“How’s that for not winning?”

She was never one to bite back at her younger brother who constantly teased her when she was ‘upset’ but in that moment her brother pushed her buttons and she walked away infuriated mad at herself, her brother, and felt she disappointed her father once again.

What she didn’t know was how Jake held his smile and laugh until she walked away and told Lo’ak to stop messing with her while he stood stunned.

She was always a force to be reckoned with but he could see why she got upset easily now..

*flashback*

Jake was critiquing Y/n and her brothers while they were training but he specifically called out Y/n.

“Y/n…that’s going to be a far shot right there so you have to have better posture.”

The child had nodded while she anxiously bit onto her thumb before she turned away from hearing her father whisper

“You have to be perfect.”

Later during dinner Y/n was in her own head about being better and having to beat other kids who she felt were catching up to her in her division. Lo’ak thought it was because she kept on aiming wrong during practice

“Y/n don’t be sad-“

The older sister rolled her eyes patting down her braids anxiously already knowing her brother was going to start with her

“No I’m not, I’m not…can you just not talk to me?” She obviously mumbled the last part because Lo’ak didn’t hear her.

“No need to be sad”

It wasn’t in a comforting way, both of them knew Lo’ak was saying it sarcastically and that he didn’t actually care he was just trying to pick at her

“I’m fine!”

Jake interrupted the argument soon after Y/n’s frustrated reassurance.

“Y/n stop it and Lo’ak stop talking. Y/n is going to remain at the top of her division.”

Hearing the words Jake had just said when she was stressing about certain kids catching up to her skill did not help and Neytiri can tell that Y/n was about to break-

Y/n got up immediately and walked to her hammock before saying

“Excuse me, I’m not hungry anymore thank you.”

Neytiri just turned to the rest of the family who seemed slightly confused

“She hasn’t been feeling well so she’s upset. Continue eating.”

Her siblings were furious that Y/n was always frustrated, they believed that what Jake told them was true…that she was jealous of them in some moments…how can a child be jealous?..

The siblings didn’t understand that just because they believe she was Jake’s favorite doesn't mean that she never had any pressure on her back, or that Jake treated her better, if anything it was more pressure but presented in a different way.

Neteyam was the most mature after Y/n and he was very close to her hints why he never agreed with his younger brother.

The perfection effect got to Y/n though…Jake failed to realize how these past couple of months have been the toughest one of all. She was scolded more than ever with her siblings now becoming rebellious it was either for Lo’ak decision’s or Neteyam following Lo’ak to stop him. She also dealt with being compared to kiri’s gentleness and ability to connect to the world…Y/n couldn’t do that, she had no time and quite frankly she had seen too much to be loose and in control. Y/n took care of Tuk when no one could.

When Y/n was a child she loved training, she wanted so badly to be a warrior..he took that from her. Jake was the one who took that passion and love for training. She became so anxious during practices or just the simple thought of it scared her.

Hints why Y/n was now falling behind, there might have been times when she was younger and she failed at a task…but when she got older she became untouchable. How was it that now her younger siblings beat her at some times when they hadn’t ever been able to beat her since they were children?

The young girl was practically forced to watch her youth slip away. She burnt out.

Jake began crying harder thinking about the times Neytiri told him to relax and he still didn’t get it

*flashback*

There was a very rare moment when Y/n became so overwhelmed that she forgot her bow and arrows.

Even though she knew she forgot she walked to her mother hoping she’d have it.

“Mother I may have left my bow and arrow did you happen to take it?”

Jake’s ear went up to this and all the siblings jaws dropped to Y/n forgetting her training equipment.

“Boys Y/n cmon let’s begin drills!”

Y/n had once again got disappointed at herself forgetting her equipment..her mom snapped on her because it was so easy for Y/n to be hard on herself

“Every child makes a mistake Y/n ok? You’re not perfect. It’s fine”

Y/n and her siblings were looking back and forth between their parents. She had her stressed emotion written all over her at that time she couldn’t hide it she was just 9…she could hear her father and mothers hushed whispers

“…well I don’t want Y/n to make mistakes…”

“…It’s too much for the children….supposed to be a rest day….”

Some of the words were missing but Y/n knew exactly what it was about and she hated herself for being a reason for their rare arguments.

Now her mothers attitude was set off even more and when she saw Y/n’s face she couldn’t take it

“Y/n! Stop with this face because it’s not ok.”

The child stumbled and swallowed harshly before putting on a visibly worried smile trying to mask her emotions..

Y/n’s face will never fail to give Neytiri a heartache…it showed the amount of pressure that was put on Y/n to be absolute perfection. She deserved the biggest apology from Jake.

To Jake he realized It's heartbreaking how afraid Y/n was of him. His little girl had so much anxiety controlling her life because she was always told by everyone around her that she had to win - she had to be the best, or she would disappoint. She took it really hard, you can tell.

Jake even noticed whenever she messed up it was always

"Is father mad?"

"Was father mad?"

"He's gonna hate me."

She was just a child trying to live up to the high standards she set and his children shouldn’t have been against each other they way he pinned them to be.

Believe it or not Y/n was closer to her father than Neytiri. How could she not be? He spent most of his time with her, he mentored her. Weather Y/n saw it as nerve wracking or not she always loved her dad. She always wanted to make him proud. Y/n was fully a daddy’s girl!

*flashback*

“Dad! Daddy! Look!”

Y/n ran back to her father with a beautiful hand made top and bracelet!

“It’s beautiful Y/n who is it for?”

Jake picked up the little girl while she giggled in his arms, her sweet laughter filled his ears

“You daddy!”

“What? I can’t wear a top silly!”

Y/n laughed at her fathers obliviousness and tugged onto his hand grabbing the bracelet she made.

“For you! The bracelet is for you! I matched my top with your bracelet!

Neytiri watched from a far with a bright smile as she wore the same bracelet Y/n had made except she didn’t get it as a surprise Y/n just put it on. Y/n wanted a reaction out of her father, a proud happy expression!

“I love it! It’s beautiful!”

Y/n immediately jumped up in his arms to gain more of his attention while he laughed at his little girls excitement

“Can we train dad?! I want to learn how to do that cool trick you did earlier!”

Jake gladly took the child who was so eager to train and have fun.

Later on the three of them walked home happily as a family…or should I say two of them? Y/n was sleeping peacefully on Jake shoulders while he held her tight. He had taken in every moment of her youth.

Jake had enough of sitting there and thinking back at things so he told everyone to get in and pulled Y/n aside..

“Sir? Where are we going?”

Y/n was so confused and so panicked she didn’t understand what her father wanted.

“Riding. Cmon I’m gonna show you a place.”

So Y/n did as he said and followed him with her ikran and once they reached this beautiful mountain they sat in peace.

The two sat there and enjoyed it but it didn’t stop Y/n from feelings like something was wrong

“Dad?…this is beautiful!..but did I do something?”

Jake turned his head in disbelief feeling his heart crack further at his child who still believed she did something wrong when he had shown her something beautiful to take her mind off of it all..

“no..but why haven’t we been talking?”

Y/n mind felt conflicted…was he messing with her?

“..i don’t know..”

Tears that she felt build up for the longest fell at the thought of her father finding out how stressed and tired she was. She spoke once again scared her father would get upset at her short responses

“…your angry at me.”

He reached out for the hand that was on the ledge as an attempt to provide comfort to the mountain of anxiety Y/n was building all those years.

“I’m definitely not.”

“You should be…i failed.”

“N-no Y/n. You’re more than I could ever ask for in a child. You’re all anybody ever wants. You have never failed me.”

Y/n refused to look in her fathers eyes instead looked down at her hands…they were torn from hours of training…

“I disgust myself. I close my eyes and hold my breath for as long as possible. I cry. Constantly and pathetically.”

“…Y/n, a sign of growth is being okay with not being okay…you will learn that soon. And I am so sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t be anything but perfect.”

There it was…an apology and suddenly Y/n weight felt lifted and she let out the sigh she didn’t know she was holding.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry I- I didn’t mean to hurt you Y/n. I taught you the wrong ways. I-I scared you. You did not deserve any of it. You were just a child. My baby.”

Y/n cried in her fathers arms holding onto him tight…

“I forgive you! I-I’m going to be ok! We will be ok father…”

For the rest of the night Y/n shed silent tears and fell asleep in her fathers arms when it was time to go, Jake woke her up and they made a very fun trip back home..they did tricks and flips with their Ikrans. Y/n was laughing the most she ever had in years, and she felt so free!

“Father! Tomorrow after you fly with Neteyam we must do this again! One more time!”

“Fine! But do go telling Lo’ak he’ll go crazy!”

Giggles were exchanged and plans were made..they went home and They slept for the leftover hours of the night and when they woke, Neytiri and Jake went back to flying with Neteyam while Y/n said she was going to stay back and search for new gems that Tuk had said she wanted. They were doing fine until they heard a dispatch from Lo’ak telling them they saw Skypeople.

Y/n knew where to go immediately and when she found them she saw a knife being held to Loaks head…she waited until she saw Quaritch distracted called out her siblings with a call they only would know and shot the men one by one quickly. She saw her father and mother join in on the ambush…Y/n watched all the kids run out but she hadn’t seen Quaritch..

She jumped from the highest points of the tree and aimed at the soldiers Quaritch believed was protecting him and when he noticed they died, he ran away and hid again…Y/n lost him.

But Quaritch was already afraid by Neytiri’s arrow that killed him in his last life but now the arrow that had just killed the soldiers near him sent shockwaves right through his veins…he had heard about the child.

He didn’t know about anyone else other than the child who held no mercy for sky people…her arrows were recognized with a red neon color just like the people she’d kill. The reason why Y/n knew exactly where the sky people would find her siblings was because she would see them there a couple of years ago and kill them one by one. She was a legend in the making. Quaritch knew that if he was shot again she’d be the one haunting him if he came back once more.

They warned him about her…told them to stay away from anything that would resemble a sign of her…he didn’t realize her siblings would be one of them.

Y/n jumped from the tree shooting an arrow directly at his neck before falling onto him stabbing Quaritch in the neck repeatedly with a knife…she was covered in blood hissing at the man who was no longer holding onto a gun that was going to be used against her family. She heard a twitch in the trees…smelt the scent knowing it was one of them.

She held her arrow out in front of her meeting the man with a gun…she shot him..adrenaline rushed through her while his body ran cold.

Y/n ran tracking down a familiar scent on the way…spider’s. She jumped down ignoring any pain and shot at the men holding him.

“Spider! You must go now.”

Y/n got up once again quickly now feeling her adrenaline go down and her dizziness comeback to her…she needed to find her family so she pushed through jogging the next couple of turns…she watched them hug as she slowly walked to them, reaching for Jake while he held a shocked look at his child covered in blood…she collapsed.

Y/n’s body was late to react to the shot..but now her body began hyperventilating to prevent her last breath.

Jake picked her up looking for the bullet wound that was on her bleeding stomach…it went straight through. Y/n panicked in her fathers arms when he tried to move her.

“I know baby girl. I know it hurts ok? Don’t look down look up, look up. You’re ok.”

He applied pressure while Y/n held his grip onto her.

Neteyam and Lo’ak stepped down to apply pressure only to discover there was another slash on her thigh that she got on her way from helping spider by the rocks it only was causing her to lose more blood…Lo’ak couldn’t focus..he dissociated. Neteyam’s eye’s were trying to not drown in the puddles of his sisters blood.

Kiri held Tuk crying while they watched their sister close by..

Neytiri was next to Y/n attempting to comfort her, touching her daughter warm skin and cheek just how she did to calm her down

“Cmon baby your ok. I know I know. Listen to me ok We gotta get you up. Alright?”

He repeatedly said “I know” while Y/n was screeching in pain…its all he knew to tell her. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was scrambling to master a plan so his daughter can survive.

They all heard her hushedwhisper..

“O-Oel ngati kam..eie…”

Jake called for his ikran while Neytiri tried matching his stance, tightening the leaf Neteyam cut to tighten more pressure..

Neytiri shook her head at her daughter who she felt was trying to muster up her last words

“Y/n no please. We will take you home I promise..”

She had denied her daughters goodbyes..but in Jake’s arms he could feel Y/n drift away…she got cold and she got quiet…he denied it too.

“C’mon, baby girl. I gotta get you up. C’mon please. Please Y/n.”

He knew it was over and he grabbed Y/n tight holding onto her limp body while Neytiri screamed for Eywa to send her back.

“Not my baby! not my baby! You’re everything. Noooo! Eywa please!”

The family fell to the floor crying at their older sister’s still body…she was no longer warm. They didn’t feel her Presence anymore..

When Y/n passed she was greeted by Eywa, a motherly embrace..and then she saw her younger self.

The 15 year old girl dropped to her knee’s staring at her 9 year old version.

“I’m really sorry Y/n..”

Young Y/n gave a big hug to her older self passing a smile

“…I know..”

It was the closure Y/n needed for herself.

She slowly felt her setting change and she continued on playing in her days.

When you are with Eywa you do not know you have passed…You are given a happier life, a world where you can be fully at peace. So Y/n played with her younger siblings and talked for hours with her parents…it was night once again and Y/n could feel a warm sensation pass over her..she turned around and saw her father and mother..

“Dad! Mother! Look at this trick I landed!”

Y/n flipped while shooting perfectly at the target and when she landed she let her laughter go as she turned to her parents exstatic..

“It’s awesome! I hope to show my siblings later! I can’t believe I beat others in my division again! It’s been getting harder but I love training so it makes it fun!…what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

Y/n laid a hand on her mothers and another on her fathers shoulder and they held it tight before Neytiri let the words she so dearly wished she could tell Y/n one more time.

“We are very proud of you my child…very.”

“And we love you! We see you.”

Y/n’s eyes now watered while she giggled at her parents

“I’m here! Oel ngati kameie! C’mon dad! Let’s train please! One more time for today! Mother watch how I beat dad on targeting! I’m the best!!”

Her two parents laughed eager to join Y/n.

…Y/n protected and defended her family until the end.

!💓!

The sully family got to remain in the forest thanks to Y/n stoping the main person who wanted to endanger her family! Her death was not in vain 💞

When Y/n saw her younger self she later on believed it was a dream but it brought a lot of closure as I said! She doesn’t know she has passed :)

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @onetwo123three @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @eskamybeloved @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @kodzukenwhore @minkyungseokie @sophiasleeps

#angst #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #neteyam sully #neytiri sully #sully family x reader #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #sully family x daughter reader #Spotify

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dee-the-red-witch · 3 days

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Okay, I need to be serious and put this somewhere for one because I need to let people know wtf is going on in full because it affects a lot of shit, because I need to talk about it, and because I need to figure out what I'm going to do.

The relationship with S, my now separated, still cohabitating and coparenting with former partner has been getting worse and worse. She has barely worked since January has made minimal efforts at best in helping with childcare, has borrowed over seven grand in total from myself and other sources that I know of to lose all of it in an online honeypot scheme, has as yet barely done anything to try and recover those funds and because of all of this, left me in the situation of having to drain everything from my transition gfm just to cover april's rent and some of the bills, and then left me still having to fundraise just this week to cover stuff.

On top of this she's still being inadvertently (I'm assuming) transmisogynistic on a regular basis. And refuses to learn or do any better, unless, you know, I'm actively calling her out in the middle of it, and even then it's a whole other fight, that often turns into other abuses lkke her threatening to just immediately abandon me with the kids.

I don't feel remotely safe here, i am in constant stress, I can't focus well enough to work even when I'm not being constantly interrupted for things, and financially there is no way I can keep doing all this. I'm also physically exhausted from all this plus the workout regime I'm having to pull to get down to surgery weight (though with my recovery fund getting constantly emptied, part of me is in Does It Even Matter mode, while the rest realizes that somehow a gym full of cishet people in lynnwood is somehow SAFER than here.)

I don't know what to do. I don't really have options, and i need out. Affording here on my own would be equally impossible, so forcing S out isn't really a great option. I'd need around 6k a month to cover EVERYTHING fully doing it as a business, and there just isn't enough coming in. I need help and I need options.

And I'm aware that yeah, just. A bigass rant with context missing in parts and no real call for action or anything. Mostly I want folks including customers to know what's going on. Please don't cancel existing orders, I'm still working to try and fill them. Please don't send me resource links for shelters and such. I'm not running yet. Ideally, I need an out, and a place on my own free and clear, but I don't know how to get there from here yet. And I'll update later eith specific asks for help if and when I figure out what those are. I just need folks to udnerstand that things are kinda sucking for me right now and it's going to be rather hard for a while.

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chirpsythismorning · 11 months

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This makes me feel like Mike is lying and knows he’s lying in his monologue:

And…

And dot dot dot…?

El’s literally choking and Mike is frozen.

Will pushes Mike and tells him not to stop, reminding him of his speech in the van.

Then, even as he is about to say it, HE STALLS.

It’s clear Mike is having a serious internal conflict when it comes to saying I love you to El, and for a character whose most important rule is ‘friends don’t lie’ and whose sister had an identical plot line where she couldn’t tell her boyfriend I love you when she realized she didn’t love him and was starting to have stronger feelings for someone else, I feel like the answer is right there.

But the And dot dot dot just does it for me.

Like what is with the dramatics.???

It’s so weird to me because if the problem was as simple as Mike being scared of losing El, he wouldn’t have risked things by not saying it when she was crying in her room during their fight.

As the cop car was taking her away, it wouldn’t have been the perfect moment, and yet the way Mike said everything he could to reassure her but avoided simply saying the one thing he knew she wanted to hear, something that had her crying not even 5 minutes earlier, saying it could have been a way for Mike to comfort her in this moment of uncertainty.

Then there’s the letter, where El says from instead of love, and this is the last semblance of contact they have with each other, which has given Mike the impression that they had a fight they could never come back from. And so, he lost her in that moment. His greatest fear has apparently already come to fruition.

The rest of the season he continues to grapple with his insecurities and his concerns with where him and El stand, with Will reassuring him. He nods his head about someone he cares about not liking the truth. Him constantly talking about his conflict with El as if it’s something that cannot be fixed?? Dude it required 3 words?? And what reason exactly would he have to agree with what Will said, unless there is some truth he’s already aware of that he doesn’t think El will like?

And then their reunion in the desert happens. THIS could finally be the moment he makes clear to El how he feels. He hasn’t lost her, they’re back with each other and she’s safe and alive and happy to see him.

So why when she leans in fully, does he hold himself back (El’s face is perfectly symmetrical vertically with the frame when their foreheads meet, whereas Mike is more so leaning back horizontally as much as he can, doing his best to keep his mouth as far away from El as possible)?...

So, no kiss then?…

After they separate and smile at each other relieved, instead of making a point to say ‘that thing’, Mike decides to shift focus from them, to those around them, seeking our Will specifically.

At Surfer Boy, they get interrupted by Argyle and his pineapple pizza. Leading up to it, Mike doesn’t look like he’s about to confess this deep and emotional reason for why he couldn’t say I love you.

I guess… I dunno… I guess I just wanted to say that—

AGAIN WITH THE DOT DOT DOTS!

If Mike was going to say I love you, that would have been the most anti-climactic love confession in the history of television. He doesn’t sound like he’s about to tell her something genuine from his heart. He sounds like he’s about to say something because he feels obligated to.

And then that leading to the monologue, where there is more stalling…

Mike had soooo many chances to say it, and if he was truly scared saying it would make losing her eventually ‘hurt more’ (words inspired by Will’s speech), then he could have said it any one of those previous instances and could have saved them and their relationship.

Instead he treats it like no man’s land, as if it’s this bad word that isn’t an option, until it’s quite literally the only option.

I think that while it is heartbreaking, it makes Mike a very complex character. While he did lie, it was a pretty selfless act, because he was breaking one of his most sacred rules, he was lying. He put it off for sooo long for a reason. He goes against how he truly feels in his heart, and that’s in large part why they lose .

Another factor to all of this, that makes me think this is very likely, is again the major theme of friends don’t lie. And how there is one scene from s1 in particular that offers up a really good Mike and El parallel we could get for them in s5, that I think would make this whole situation and the buildup to it, just sooooo fucking layered.

Imagine something similar to this conversation in s5, but switch Mike and El around:

Rewatching all the seasons in general opens up a lot of possibilities for brainstorming about potential callbacks we could see in s5. When it comes to the importance and impact of lying in the story, with s4 being filled with characters lying, there is just something so full circle about s4 opening with El’s letter filled with lies, Will’s veiled love confession filled with lies that his feelings are El’s and the season closing off with Mike lying to save the world and as a result failing.

And then in s5, kind of bringing together all of these lies, with the truth this time.

Having a parallel to this, with El calling Mike out, would finally give her the chance to voice to Mike, face to face, how she feels truly about everything, and having it be in a way that will sort of put Mike in his place, in a similar way he did to her, would be kind of insane.

Not only that, but in doing so, along with making byler canon by the end end of the series, this entire scene in s1 could be re-contextualized to something much more incredible than it was to viewers in their initial viewing.

After s5, this scene would never be the same:

#byler #stranger things #Paladin breaking his oath #or whatever #shame and guilt or whatever

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11queensupreme11 · 3 months

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Another bit from Sally=Loki that might have to get the chop but I thought was too funny to not delete. Can you guess who Percy had just met? (It's Apollo, also to answer your earlier question Percy sounds more educated because 1) Loki is very educated and children learn to speak by mimicing parents so compared to Sally who is a high school dropout, nothing wrong with that, just Loki just has a broader vocabulary 2) Loki would accept nothing less then a fantastic education for his child so Percy does go to a good school and has Loki being very supportive at home, 3) Loki has a lot of run ins with the authorities and taught Percy specific phrases. After all mortal doctors could notice something was up with her if they looked so Percy was trained to deny care, if you asked her about some other topic she would not sound that good)

“Why have you returned?” Poseidon demanded “And where is your minder?”

Percy shrugged and replied, “Ares was trying to show me some statues and murals when a strange naked man appeared and started touching Ares all over the place and tried to chase me.”

Her uncle Zeus made a strange noise like a squeaky toy, he should probably see a doctor about that she thought. “Mom and my teachers and the school resource officers all said if I see a person not wearing all their clothes or exposing their privates I’m supposed to run away and find a trusted adult. Ares didn’t seem super available, and you were closest, and it is your day, but I guess I can go back to my grandpa’s house if you’re busy.”

For a moment everything was silent and then Uncle Hades suddenly lunged forward tackling her father who had started to rise back into his seat. “Oh my, that must have been very scary for you” replied her Uncle Hades voice rough and teeth gritted with exertion. Vaguely she could hear her father start to say something only to be quickly cut off by a hissed “Language!” from said Uncle.

Uncle Zeus laughed like someone who knew they were about to fail to negotiate their way out of being kneecapped by the mob and blabbered out, “You didn’t interrupt anything important, no siree, we were just finishing up, now if you will excuse me I just remembered I haven’t seen my children in an bit and must check in on them” all while he fled the room, carefully keeping the table between him and her father. Percy wondered why all the adults on this side of the family constantly acted like they were raised by baboons. With a sigh she turned back to her remaining “adults” and said “Public indecency is illegal, as is exposing yourself to a minor. I believe this is where you are supposed to call the authorities.”

Percy was very proud of herself for remembering all of that from the stranger danger talk at school (mom would have probably castrated the man rather than call the cops but as Percy had recently learned mom also had a history with the law here so she probably had to rely on her own conflict resolution skills… which would explain a lot actually. As the old man who ran the bodega had said, a criminal who calls the cops is a dead criminal). Admittedly she did not ever expect to need to need it as any adult who worked with children with any frequency at all seemed aware of this particular procedure, however she supposed she could give daddy a pass since he was one, very new to this and two, she was starting to doubt he or his siblings had been raised by sentient life at all. So, some ignorance was probably unavoidable on his part, she just hoped the rapid reddening of his face was not due to anger directed at her over being told what to do. Maybe he was embarrassed that he didn’t know already? Mom always said there was nothing embarrassing about learning. However, last time she corrected a boy in her class he cried, she hoped this was not another Joey Klingler situation because she really didn’t think she would be able to get daddy to stop yelling by distracting him by triple-dog-daring him to eat a fistful of sand.

i love how no matter the universe, percy's first interaction with ror!apollo always has to do with him being naked 💀

BUT I LOVE THIS!!! I hope you don't end up deleting it cuz it is a funny scene but if you do... i will treasure this post forever 😔😔😔

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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sunandflame · 6 months

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Shards of Glass, Chapter 8

Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 1745

Warning: domestic issues (not abuse)

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

This was bad. This was really really bad. She tried her best to suppress the tears, but they continued to stream down her cheeks even after she managed to barricade herself in the toilet stall. Why now? Why here? She tried to think of several explanations, but there were none. She didn't know why she reacted so extremely to it. It was her who rejected him. Her, who saw his heart break into tiny pieces at her words. And yet she felt her throat tightening, her own heart breaking just like his as if there was an invisible connection between them both.

The argument with Kenji didn't make things any better as it only added more stress to her. She didn't want to go home because she knew there would just be a new argument. A new reason to fight. She felt terribly alone and needed to talk to someone about it.

She calmed down eventually, washed away her tears at the sink to look somewhat decent again and decided that she had to find Giyuu.

She found him immediately. Luckily he was alone in the sports hall and was cleaning up the equipment from class. He immediately felt her presence and turned to face her. His eyes widened when he saw her and concern was written in his otherwise expressionless gaze. There were no remnants left of her tears and yet he was able to sense that there was something wrong with her. They weren't best friends and cousins for nothing. As soon as he asked the question, “What happened?”, her tears started anew and she threw herself into his arms.

Confused and overwhelmed by this outburst of her emotions, he was at first taken aback until he gently put his arms around her and let her cry on his chest. He didn't say a word though it wasn't necessary. Giyuu's calm manner, which always reminded her of still water, calmed her immensely and when her tears dried up, she took a step back to look at him again.

“I messed up and I don’t know what to do.”

“Care to elaborate on that?”

In short words she told him everything that had happened so far. “And he just confessed to me and it made everything more complicated.”

“How so? Did you not reject him? You have a boyfriend that you love, right?” Giyuu's pragmatic question stopped her in her tracks.

Did she love Kenji? The fact that she hesitated at this question was actually very self-explanatory.

She remained silent and saw Giyuu sigh. “Then let me ask you another way: Do you love Rengoku?”

Another awkward silence that gave them the answer he wanted. She couldn't deny it and yet she couldn't confirm it. She belonged to Kenji but- “You know how long Kenji and I have been together. I don't want to throw away all these years just because of-" She interrupted herself, not daring to say it. “You’ve known Kenji for as long as I have! We were all in one class together back then. Do you even like him?”

“I don’t hate him.” Giyuu’s answer was short.

“But you don’t like him?”

“He doesn’t fit with you.” He saw her surprised face at his words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, Y/N, I can’t tell you what to do. You have to decide this on your own. The only thing I can say is that you love Rengoku more than you loved Kenji in all these years.”

~ ~ ~

She layed in bed, her gaze turned briefly to Kenji, who had his back turned to her. They had finally managed to talk to each other without it ending in an argument, but the situation didn't feel good either. Giyuu's words were circling in her mind. You love Rengoku more than you loved Kenji in all these years. Was that true? There was an undeniable and unique connection between the two of them. Something unexplainable. She hadn't forgotten the feeling she had when they first met. The constant feeling of deja vu had not subsided. She had only successfully pushed it aside.

Her hand reached for the metal of the Water Lily pendant on her collarbone and she sighed deeply. She should try to sleep. Tomorrow was also a day. That was her last thought before she spiraled into a dream that she thought she had long forgotten.

There were actually several dreams and impressions that bombarded her. So many feelings overwhelmed her. Fear, happiness, desire and sadness. Infinite sadness at the end. She woke up with a slight startle and immediately looked around. 4:34 a.m. Kenji was still asleep, but Shimizu, her black cat, had noticed her restlessness and had jumped onto her lap, purring, brushing her fluffy face against her own to show her affection. She gently stroked her back and scratched her head, trying to sort through the many impressions that created a chaos that echoed in her head. She tried to sort them out.

"You probably saw my father in me. He was the former Flame Hashira."

"We can train together if you want! You can be my Tsuguko!"

"Hating yourself only gets you so far, be proud that you survived."

“But you don't need to be afraid of him as long as I'm with you."

"You are not alone in this. I won't allow that, so share your pain with me."

“Y/N! I love you and I would be happy if you could become my girlfriend!”

"If you keep it up like that you'll surpass me, my water lily! Or should I call you now my little flame?

"You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily..."

"Yes, we will always stay together..."

"When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful."

"I will see you in heaven, my love."

She hadn't even noticed the tears running down her cheeks as she pulled Shimizu close, letting them fall silently into her fur. She finally knew how she recognized Kyojuro, but all the remaining impressions from her dream gave her a headache and she needed a quiet minute to think about them.

Still, the realization hit her hard. Did she understand that correctly? Kyojuro and her knew each other from a past life? Or was her brain playing games? But how would someone then explain the connection? Or what happened when they first touched in the car the other day, after the drinking party. The vision of him gently kissing her knuckles just to pull her into a passionate kiss. That wasn't wishful thinking back then, no.

‘You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily…’ Was that the reason why she bought that necklace back then? Not because of that sweet memory she had as a child with Giyuu but because of that? Was that the reason why Kyojuro was so fixated on it too? He must have known it! The universe had known, but she had remained clueless until now. The headache got worse and she looked out the window that announced the sunrise. She'd better get ready for work.

~ ~ ~

School life was weird, but it was like that every Friday. She didn't avoid Kyojuro, but they didn't meet either. Her feelings were renewed in chaos and she didn't know what to do next. During her break she decided to take a walk to clear her head, but she kept wondering what she should do next. She considered the situation from every angle but couldn't come to a conclusion that wouldn't rip the heart out of a particular party.

She stopped briefly and looked at the cloudless sky. "What would you do?" She asked it out loud. A question she didn’t ask herself but to her past self. She seemed to have known everything better and was able to make difficult decisions. She sighed, she hadn't been really waiting for an answer in the first place? She was about to turn around when a sudden gust of wind blew through her hair and a heart-shaped leaf landed on her face. Puzzled, she took the leaf off her face and looked at it and knew what she had to do.

~ ~ ~

Never in her life did she expect to end up in such a situation. In a situation where she was wandering around homeless and watching the sun go down. Well, she had to blame herself for it, but it had all happened so quickly.

She wanted to have a rational conversation with Kenji - she was also able to, to a certain extent, until she brought the topic up. The topic that involved that things no longer worked between them. The terrible accusations and things she had to listen to. The accusations that she’d cheated on him and many more. She would never do such things and if he would not be so filled with anger and jealousy he would realize it. It quickly turned into a loud argument that got so bad that she simply grabbed her jacket and left their shared apartment.

It hadn't felt like home in a while and it still hurt. She walked aimlessly for a long time to clear her head until she came to a park bench and sat down. Now the tears flowed and her vision blurred until she felt something soft against her leg. She was startled and quickly wiped away her tears only to see that Shimizu had followed her this far and was meowing at her worriedly.

“Shimizu, you loyal soul…” Renewed tears flowed as she picked her up and pressed her face into her warm, soft fur. It felt so good to know that she wasn't alone. Y/N didn’t realize how the time passed by when it suddenly started to rain.

Shimizu’s desperate meowing worried her. Without a second thought she took off her coat and placed it over her to protect her from the rain. She took the cat in her arms and started running in a random direction.

The streets soon became familiar and there was only one person who happened to live nearby.

Drenched from the rain she stood at the threshold and pressed the buzzer. Kyojuro opened the door with a smile that dropped quickly into a surprised face. He probably did not expect her here, at this hour. “Hi…” She breathed while she stared back at him. “Could you take in two strays who got caught up in the rain?”

A/N: Hello my sweethearts... This story will take a little break and won't be updated weekly anymore. I was able to queue them as I had the chapters prepared beforehand but you know how irl things can turn your muse low. That doesn't mean I won't continue or finish this series! It will just be slower in the future. I hope you all can forgive me than I left you hanging with this cliffhanger.

I know I said I won't do a tagging list, but that was because this story had a regular schedule. So if you want to be tagged into the next chapter, than let me please know in the replies down below.

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drawingdroid · 4 months

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Melting Point: Chapter II

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue | Chapter I

Chapter II: The Sculptor/Temper

Summary: You get a job offer you can't refuse and meet your new boss, a gruff sculptor who is so familiar.

Words: 2393

Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: I darlings! I hope you enjoyed Christmas if that is your thing! I'm back with a new chapter, let me know what you think because I have a lot of feelings about The Armorer being reader's thesis tutor *cries in mommy issues*. Hope you enjoy this!

That morning you so were nervous. No, terrified. Finally, you were having your first meeting with your thesis tutor, the renowned artist and professor Dr. Armorer. You admired her work so much, and her deep knowledge of Ancient Mandalorian Art was admirable. All of her books were constantly by your bedside, extensively annotated. What would your role model think of you?

Your first impression was that she commanded so much respect with only her way of standing. She insisted on meeting in the faculty’s foundry, while you had expected to talk in her office. You couldn’t get your eyes off her while she was working with the red-hot metal against her anvil. She stopped hammering when she noticed you standing awkwardly at the door.

“Welcome kid.” Her voice was flat while the visor of her safety mask was fixed into you. “I’m sorry for the scholarship.” Okay, so right to the point, no pleasantries. You shivered, feeling self-conscious, and downed your gaze to the floor. “Your proposal is magnificent and I pushed for you to be admitted, but the budget is limited and now Nevarro City is placing its interest in other departments.” After placing her tools in their place. She didn’t remove her leather gloves though.

“Thank you Dr. Armorer, I’m well aware that investing in Art has never been one of the top priorities of the governments.” Your tone came surprisingly cynical while it was sad too. Your cheeks blushed for the sudden outburst in front of the professor.

“Do you drink caf?” You nodded and she directed her attention to a little coffee maker in a corner that you hadn’t noticed earlier. Soon she handed you a steamy cup of the dark liquid. She had brewed one for herself but hadn’t lifted her golden mask to drink yet. It looked like she was studying you.

“Professor, I’m very embarrassed to admit this, but I applied to the program expecting to receive that scholarship, and without it I’m afraid cannot afford my studies,” you blurted with your gaze fixated on your drink. “I’m very sorry for having wasted your time, but…”

“What brings you to want to study Mandalorian art, kid? She interrupted mid-sentence and you swallowed hard. A heat started expanding through your veins and it wasn’t because of the coffee. It was always the same when you spoke about your passion.

“Mandalorian culture is one of the most ancient ones still alive. The artistic manifestations were present early in their history and bound intimately with the development of the technology necessary to process beskar. The importance of the clans' signets was another factor to push for a more refined technique when working the metal…”

“I didn’t ask you for the book definition of Mandalorian art. My question was why you, a non-Mandalorian, want to specifically specialize in our art.” Her tone was still flat, but commanding. Had you made her mad? Was it wrong that you wanted to study Mandalorian Art?

“The way your sculpture is so raw and naked and still conveys the most profound, earth-shattering feeling while using something as cold as beskar, turning it into living and breathing things. It’s bold and succinct, it shows and hides and that gives me goosebumps every time I look into a Mandalorian sculpture.” You didn’t want to be so passionate in your first encounter with Professor Armorer, but the fear of being rejected not only by the scholarship commission but also by her, made you snap. Your skin felt hot and your heart was hammering inside your chest.

The Armorer, as everyone called her, hummed in contentment, and then she grabbed a notepad and a pencil that had seen better days and scribbled something.

“My friend is looking for an assistant to help him around in the studio. Since your background is in Fine Art, I think you’ll manage just fine.” She gave you the paper with only a number and address on it. You looked at her quizzically. “The salary he offers should cover your stay here. I’ll arrange your schedule so your obligations as a PhD student are met.” You could cry with gratitude right now, even though you knew nothing about this job. “And concerning your tuition fees, let me move some strings. I can’t promise anything kid, but I may know someone who’d be interested in sponsoring you.” You could hug this woman, kiss her on her protection mask. But you stayed in your seat grabbing the mug she gave you like a lifeline.

“I can’t…I don’t know…” You babbled with watery eyes.

“I only expect the best of you kid, it’s gonna be hard work. Now go.” And then she returned to her work in the forge, leaving you trembling with excitement.

After scrolling down some job portals, you closed your laptop with a sigh, calculating the best way to manage your savings to stretch them to the limit. With maximum frugality, you could make it through three months.

Professor Armourer had given you that mysterious number, but even though you were going to try, you didn’t want to depend 100% on her kindness. Moreover, you didn’t know which type of “studio assistant” job this would be since she provided little description. You grabbed the piece of paper and called. Nothing. You went on with your routine and tried again later, but no one responded.

Would it be too bold to just show up there? After all, your tutor had provided an address, so it was assumable it was okay if you just went there to speak to her friend in person. Like the old times, didn’t people do that? So you made up your mind and grabbed your tote bag and your trusty flannel. Slipping in some sneakers, you went outside to explore Nevarro City.

The area was definitely more industrial, certainly convenient for someone who was a metal artist, nevertheless, it had some charm to it. The warehouses were old, some of them reconverted into homes or other artist’s studios. You looked again at the paper provided by the professor when you recognized a building with large windows and a silver, old truck parked in the door as the one you were looking for. A big container with metal scraps was against one of the walls. You looked for a doorbell or something similar but nothing was in sight, so you decided to just pound the door.

Metallic sounds could be heard from the interior, and you asked yourself which kind of artist they were. After a while, you pounded the door again, it was clear they hadn't heard you. But the noise was loud and on top of that some electric guitar music was playing. You decided to make a bold move and try to open the door.

The inside was bright due to the big windows. The studio was neat and functional with all the tools one needed to work metal from small to large scale. Semi-finished projects were here and there, but it looked like everything had an order inside the warehouse. You could spot a little kitchenette too and a mattress in a cosy corner.

The man you were looking for was working at the big wooden table that occupied the centre of the room. It looked like he was polishing a metal piece, and sparks were flying all around. The first thing you noticed was the welding mask. It was beautiful, reflecting all the little sparks like fireworks, and had a similar design to the one The Armorer wore. It was shaped like a traditional Mandalorian helmet, the one the ancient warriors once used as battle armour. You smiled to yourself.

You went closer to where he was working, being cautious to not startle him, but it looked like he hadn’t sensed your presence yet, so you just observed him. The sleeves of his work jumpsuit were rolled and you could admire how muscular his forearms were between the fabric and the leather gloves he used for protection. The zipper of his clothing piece was down until his sternum, letting you see thigh undershirt under it, revealing sculpted pecs.

Maker help me if this man is gonna be my boss.

His black visor was suddenly pointed in your direction and you almost jumped from the surprise. He had left de welder on the wooden table and lowered the volume of the music on a radio that looked as old as time and then approximated you. All his movements were slow and restrained.

“What do you want?” He asked drily, without removing the welding mask from his face. As his friend the professor, he didn’t waste a second in pleasantries. His voice was as gruff as his looks. He didn’t look like an artist at all but a sort of mechanic or technician.

He waited for your response with his gloved hands in his narrow hips, a leg slightly flexed. The way he carried himself made him look like a statue in a museum. He was observing you carefully, from head to toe. You noticed your mouth was dry.

“I…The Armourer sent me…because of the job…assistant.” You said finally. Perfect, you now had made a fool of yourself by speaking like you didn’t know grammar when you indeed made a living of writing. You could die of the embarrassment.

“I told her…” He started and then sighed, lowering his broad shoulders in defeat. “Come, have a seat.” He said tilting his head towards a desk next to the large windows.

You assumed it was a desk because it was completely covered by stacks of diverse documents and you couldn’t even guess the material of the piece of furniture. You observed them as you sat in a beautiful vintage chair, while he did the same in front of you. A lot of invoices, a PC as old as time, sketches of what looked like sculptures, sheets with budgets, newspapers, exhibition brochures. You smiled softly when you distinguished the characteristic doodles of a little kid. You kept that last info to yourself, thinking it wasn’t polite to be nosy in your first meeting.

He then looked at you like it was the first time he acknowledged your presence. His legs were wide apart, but while he looked confident you noticed he was fidgeting with his gloved fingers. What a curious man. And why was he so familiar?

“What can you do?” He asked, always the eloquent one. You looked around you for a moment, gathering your thoughts.

“Anything you need around here.” You responded, now a bit more confident. “I can operate almost every machine in this place, know the basics of wielding, and can help with molds and the foundry” He now looked more interested, bending his large body towards the table. “But for a start, I think the most urgent matter is this mess.” Sure, you were cheeky, but you needed the job, and it was obvious the man needed help with admin. You went from nervous to sassy in five minutes. “Does that even work, or is it part of an art installation?” You pointed to the PC that looked like it was stuck in the 90’s. He made a noise that could be a chuckle or a grunt.

“The Armourer sent me your CV.”

Oh, so he knew you were coming after all.

“What makes a qualified researcher as you want to work as an assistant?” This was probably the highest number of words he had put together to this moment. His low baritone was warm and nice to hear.

You blushed a bit. Of course, you had made your apportations, but you were only starting in the Academia even though you had some articles published. But qualified was a bit of a stretch. You could tell him the truth. That you needed to pay rent after being denied the scholarship. But that didn’t put you in a good light, especially in a job interview.

“Being a researcher, I tend to spend most of my day in my head. Manual labour grounds me.” You bit your lip a bit nervous because you had just offered a piece of personal information, even though anything in your tone revealed that you weren’t referring only to your job.

He only nodded in understanding, crossing his thick forearms over his chest.

“You start tomorrow at 1500.” Okay, former military maybe? That was rich. And it was the shortest job interview of your life. “I usually wrap up at 2100, is that okay for you?” His voice had a kinder tone now, although sounding still gruff. You recounted mentally the bus timetable to your home and calculated it would be tight but you could make it.

“Yes, is perfect.” You offered him a big smile for the first time feeling grateful. “Thank you for the opportunity.” Then he accompanied you to the door and you realized he hadn’t provided you a name. He probably knew you from your CV though. You panicked a bit, trying to recall if Professor Armourer had told you his name but you couldn’t remember and it seemed awkward to ask now.

When you made your exit through the door, he leaned against it and you noticed he was as wide as the frame. The perks of being a sculptor, you supposed. You had to stop admiring his physique if he was going to be your boss. You arranged a bit your heavy tote bag on your shoulder and put a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” You said to the statue man. He just nodded and you awkwardly acknowledged the interaction was over, so you left with an energetic handwave while he was standing there nonchalantly. Was he observing you? Just having some fresh air? You couldn’t tell with that damned mask. You found yourself wondering how he’d look under it. But it felt weird you didn’t know your boss's name or how he looked. You turned on your heels and gathered some courage. He was still in the same position and you felt super awkward. “I’m sorry, I think I didn’t catch your name and it felt wrong leaving without…”

Your new boss sighed heavily, and so so slowly, started to remove his welding mask. Your jaw dropped. Those sad eyes weren’t easy to forget.

“It’s Din, Din Djarin.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @dameron-grant-spector

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #modern au din djarin #modern din djarin #the mandalorian x y/n #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #sculptor din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction #droidwrites #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro boys

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runawrites-blog · 4 months

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Until The Break Of Dawn Ch. 3 (Josh Washington x Reader)

Summary: After a terrible Ouija board session, you and Josh go to the shed to turn the lights on and take your mind off things. It turns out to be a terrible idea. (Female Reader) Warnings: Implied Smut at the beginning, Talk about Josh's grief and his mental health issues, Reader having a breakdown about Josh's apparent disappearance, Mentions of her father's death. Specific warnings will be posted in the notes of each chapter. No Y/N, Petnames (Honey) Author's Note: You can find the previous chapter here, although the fanfiction is complete on AO3, I won't post the next chapter until tomorrow because it's just such an ordeal copying it all over to Tumblr. Hang in tight! Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49644949/chapters/125303695#workskin

“You two cannot be serious.”

Josh just shrugged, leaning against the doorway and making sure to keep his body between you and his friends, shielding you from view as you covered yourself up. Ashley looked a little embarrassed at the realization that she and Chris had just interrupted an intimate moment between two of her friends. Chris on the other hand was giving Josh a smug grin, crossing his arms and laughing at you rolling your eyes behind your boyfriend.

“You two cannot be serious.” You threw back jokingly, pulling Josh’s flannel close around your body, thankful for it being on the longer side. “You seriously went to get a Ouija board? Where did you even get that?”

“Of course, we got a Ouija board. While you two snuck off to get busy we put so much work into finding the board.” Chris laughed and held it up. “We want to talk to some ghosts. Don’t tell me you’re scared!”

“Scared? Please, you are always the one throwing around popcorn and screaming when you watch horror movies together with me and Josh.” You grinned, moving closer to Josh so you could rest your chin on his shoulder. “I remind you of the time we watched The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and you threw the bowl across the room when Leatherface first appeared.”

Josh nodded in agreement, leaning his head against yours. “You are the scaredy-cat here. My girlfriend and I have been watching horror movies together since Middle School. A little Ouija board session won’t scare us.”

“Depends on who we contact.” Ashley threw in before turning to you with an expecting look. “Are you two up for it?”

“If you give us five minutes to get dressed.”

Chris and Ashley agreed, stating they’d wait downstairs before leaving. Josh closed the door and turned back to you, raising an eyebrow at you wearing his flannel. Without another word he came over and took your face into his hand, kissing you deeply. But you pulled back quickly, chuckling at his ministrations.

“Don’t get distracted. We have to be downstairs in five minutes.”

“I admit, five minutes might be a bit too short for me to take you to the bone zone.” Josh joked before grabbing onto the fabric of his flannel. “I love seeing you in my clothes but I’ll need this back. Sorry, Honey.”

“It’s fine. I’d get too cold in that anyway. I prefer my knitted sweater.” You chuckled and took off his flannel before handing it to him. “That being said, can I snatch one of your shirts to sleep in tonight?”

“Sure.”

Josh gave you another kiss on the cheek before he started to get dressed again. You did the same and watched him from where you were standing. He seemed a lot more tense than before and you wondered if the idea of using a spirit board was the reason for that.

“Josh, are you sure you’re fine with using the spirit board?” You asked softly. “I know before you left for the lodge you told me you didn’t want me to constantly worry about you and to just have a fun time with everyone else but I’m a little worried.”

“I’m fine.” Josh said swiftly, a little too quickly for it to sound convincing. “Really, don’t worry about me.”

You were quiet for a few seconds before approaching him again. “Are you sure? If you feel uncomfortable with us trying to contact spirits in this place, we can do literally anything else, Sweetheart.”

“Honey, I’m fine.” He promised you, turning to you and meeting your eyes which immediately helped to calm you down a little because Josh tended to avert eye contact when he was feeling bad and didn’t want to let anyone onto his feelings. “If it gets too much, I’ll let you know.”

“I just hope this is not another attempt at a prank.”

“Let’s get going.”

When the two of you made it downstairs, Sam was waiting for Josh, inquiring about the hot water. The two of them ventured into the basement while you looked around for a place to use the spirit board with Ashley. It didn’t take Josh and Sam long to come back, and when they did they did so screaming because Chris had played a prank on them, unbeknownst to either you or Ashley. While she joked around about Chris joining a monastery and taking a vow of silence after seeing him wearing a monk’s robes you made sure Josh was alright.

“Are you alright, Josh?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He promised, giving you an earnest smile. “I thought it was hilarious. If there’s anyone you should worry about, it’s Sam.”

“Chris freaked me out so much!” Sam complained, giving Chris a small glare. “And now I gotta go up two flights of stairs in this dark lodge on my own.”

Josh turned to her with a laugh. “I’ll escort you to the bathroom like your royal guard.”

“Noble.” You joked and gave him a small peck on the cheek. “We’ll set everything up while you’re gone.”

“Good idea.”

The two of them left and you went with Ashley and Chris to set up the spiritboard. You were still worried that they were planning on playing a prank on Josh because everyone in your friend group simply adored pranks and practical jokes. Chris scaring Josh and Sam didn’t help ease your worries, so you decided to simply ask them about their plans. But just as you were about to do so, Ashley spoke and turned to you.

“Aren’t you a bit jealous?”

“Of who?”

“I mean, Josh seems pretty close to Sam.”

“Ash!” Chris hissed quietly but stopped when he heard you laugh, turning to look at you. “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, sliding your lighter you’d used to light up the candles into your pocket, and waved her off. “They’re friends. He can have female friends just the same as I can have male friends. I’m friends with Matt, Mike, and you, Chris. So why can’t he be friends with the girls?”

“They seem so close, though. Sam was holding onto Josh’s arm when they came out of the cellar and now he’s getting her to the bathroom.”

“Ash, I’m not jealous.” You promised, smiling at her in earnest. “They are close but I know they are nothing more than friends. I trust Josh and I trust Sam because he is my boyfriend and she is one of my best friends.”

Ashley was about to say something else when Josh entered, stopping in the door to take in the scene and the candles all around. He gave an impressed laugh and put his hands on his hips.

“We’re really doing this, huh?”

“Is Sam alright?” You asked, leaning over to look at him. “She isn’t too freaked out, is she?”

“No, she was just a bit scared of walking through the lodge in the dark.”

“Understandable.” Ashley chuckled before sitting down. “Are you going to turn on the lights in here any time soon?”

“After this session, I’ll head to the shed to do so.” Josh nodded and moved toward the table. “I thought your prank was funny, Chris.”

Chris grinned at his best friend and clapped him on the back. “Glad at least one person thinks so. Are you ready?”

Josh nodded and walked up next to you, pulling back your chair. “Let’s do this.”

“Thanks.” You smiled and sat down. “Josh, if this gets too much--”

“I will tell you. Don’t worry.”

“We’ll have fun. Don’t worry.” Chris smiled. “Ouija board sessions are fun.”

But the session was not fun. No more than ten minutes in, everyone had to agree that this was the polar opposite of fun. Ashley had gotten up and was pacing the room, trying to figure out who had moved the piece to spell out words regarding the twins and their death while Chris was trying to calm her down. You were furious with the two of them, convinced that they had moved the piece to mess with Josh and your boyfriend seemed inconsolable, physically distancing himself from the table and snapping at his friends for how messed up their presumed prank was. It was the tears welling up in Josh’s eyes that made you jump up from your chair.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?” You snapped at Chris and Ashley, shaking your head in disbelief. “Who pretends to be someone’s missing sister in a Ouija board session?”

“I didn’t move the piece, I swear! It must have been Chris!”

“It wasn’t me, either!” Chris defended himself, looking back at Josh with wide eyes. “This is legit. We contacted a real spirit.”

“No, you guys are trying to mess with--”

Josh interrupted you, voice tight with tears. “It’s not legit and we didn’t contact a spirit, Chris! I don’t know if you thought this would somehow help me with my grief but this-- this is just messed up!”

With that, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Swearing quietly, you geared up to follow him but Chris grabbed your wrist, making you turn back to him and Ashley.

“Maybe you should give him some space to calm down.”

“Let go of my arm.” You snapped and shook your head. “I need to check on Josh after your fucked up little prank. Let me go.”

“I swear it wasn’t us trying to mess with him.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” You pulled your arms from Chris’ light grasp and marched toward the door. “But all I care about right now is making sure Josh is alright.”

You quickly ran after Josh and when you caught up with him he was just about to go outside. When he heard you calling out to him, he turned and you felt your heart ache when you saw the tears staining his cheeks.

“Honey, please leave me alone.” He said in a strained voice, pushing open the front door and stalking out into the snow. “I want to be alone right now. I’ll be fine.”

“Josh, I don’t think leaving you alone after what just happened is a good idea.” You insisted, following him outside and ignoring how cold it was without your jacket. “I want to help you. Please let me.”

“I said I’ll be fine!”

“Joshua, please, don’t just leave.” You quickly approached him now that he had turned toward you, fighting the tears that gathered in your eyes at seeing him so distraught. “If you really want to be alone, I will go back inside but I need to know that you will be alright, that you took your meds today, and that you’re safe out here in the dark.”

After a few seconds of silence, Josh sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry for being harsh with you. I appreciate you trying to help but I-- I really don’t want to talk about or-- or think about what just happened.”

“Then we won’t talk about it.” You promised and grabbed his hand in both of yours. “All I want to do is to make sure you’re alright.”

“This is so messed up.” Josh whispered, a few fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “I just-- I know it’s a prank or whatever the fuck that was supposed to be but-- but for a second I was almost hopeful. It’s so stupid, I know.”

Without another word you wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head against his shoulder and squeezing him tightly. “It’s not stupid at all, Sweetheart. I’m sorry they tricked you like that.”

Josh stilled for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you and resting his cheek against your head. “Thank you for coming after me. Maybe you were right and being alone isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Aren’t I always right?”

That small joke got a chuckle out of Josh and you smiled at the sound, relishing in the way his chest moved against your body with the laughter. “Of course you are.”

“Want to go back inside?”

“Actually, I need to go to the maintenance shed to turn the power on. Do you want to come along?”

“Sure.” You nodded before pulling back and nodding your head toward the lodge behind you. “But we should really put on jackets beforehand.”

“Come on.”

When the two of you got back inside Ashley and Chris had disappeared but you didn’t mind because you were still angry at them for tricking Josh -- even if they had denied doing so. Figuring they had wandered off to another room of the lodge you grabbed your jacket and shrugged it on as Josh put on his vest. And within the next ten minutes, you and Josh were on the way to the shed, you holding onto his arm and him shining the flashlight around.

“How much further is it to the shed?”

Josh looked down at you for a second before looking back at the trail. “Not much further, I promise. Why?”

“I’m freezing.”

To your surprise, Josh stopped in his tracks and you turned to him again, about to urge him to keep going when he pulled his arm from your grip to take the scarf he was wearing. Before you could protest he was already wrapping it around your neck and you felt any objections immediately disappear when you realized the scarf smelled like Josh. With a small smile, you looked up at him and pulled it a bit closer around your neck.

“You’re the sweetest. But won’t you get cold?”

“As I said, I tend to run hot. And besides, we’ll be back at the lodge in no time.” He said with a smile before holding his arm back out to you. “Want to hang on?”

You nodded and took his arm again, holding onto it as you two once more began to move toward the shed in the distance. “It’s not only cold but also slippery.”

“The way to the maintenance shed is at least not that long. Mike and Jess aren’t that lucky.” Josh joked. “Remember that one winter when you came up here with my family and my parents let us stay at the guest cabin? It took us so long to get there. I’m like, ninety percent certain Mike and Jess aren’t even halfway to the cabin, yet.”

“That’s on them more than the distance, though.” You chuckled, looking up at Josh with a grin. “They always mess around so much it really slows them down. I walked from the cable car station to the lodge with them and it took me ten minutes longer than usual because of their fierce snowball fight.”

“Did they throw any at you? If so, I’ll have to get some revenge on them tomorrow and defend your honor!”

“Please, do so.”

“Alright, that’s the shed over there. I suggest you hold the flashlight while I try to get the power working. You have steady hands, right?”

“You know how good I am with my hands, Sweetheart.”

Josh just smirked at that and opened the door to the shed, letting you step inside and then entering after you. He got to fixing the power as soon as he was inside and you stood back, shining the flashlight to illuminate the shed for him. It was then that you heard a twig snap outside and winced, quickly turning your head toward the open door and just about managing to catch a glimpse of something moving back into the treeline. Your wince moved the flashlight and Josh looked up, worry clear on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw something.” You whispered, now fully turning toward the open door and shining your flashlight into the darkness in the hopes of making out whatever you had seen moving around the tree line. “It disappeared into the woods. Josh, you said we’d be alone up here and that there wasn’t anyone else but us around.”

“There shouldn’t be.” Josh said and quickly stood up, taking the flashlight from your hands. He moved around your body so he was between you and the door. “You stay here and I’ll check it out, alright?”

“What if it’s someone dangerous? You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Please just stay here and wait for me.” He assured you with a comforting smile. “I will be right back. I promise.”

Despite your uneasy feeling, you nodded and watched him leave the shed. You tried to keep calm, to not let the fears and worries brought on by your past overcome you. But it wasn’t more than two minutes later that you heard a blood-curdling scream from the outside and you immediately ran out of the shed to check on Josh. But he was nowhere in sight.

“Josh!” You called out to him, trying to keep your panic at bay. “Joshua, where are you? Say something, please!”

But there was no answer and you were left with the terrible realization that you were alone, left in the middle of the woods with your boyfriend missing. Fear and panic quickly settled in. This couldn’t be happening -- not again. You were at a loss of what to do and the tears that rose in your eyes only made it harder to see anything around you properly. Yet, you still set out for the woods and in the direction you had seen the figure vanish in before Josh had left.

“Josh, please answer me!” You called out, voice laced with tears. “Say something -- anything! I can’t-- I don’t know what to do!”

You kept running through the woods, slapping branches away left and right as they obstructed your path. At some point, you had all but begun sobbing but you didn’t care. Finding Josh was all that mattered. Eventually, you got back onto one of the trails and realized you were once again in eyeshot of the lodge. But Josh was still nowhere to be found and the sobs wracking your body only grew more panicked.

“Josh!” You called out once more, supporting your weight on a wooden railing as you cried your eyes out. “Joshua!”

It was all so horribly familiar.

Your father had disappeared on a family camping trip eight years ago when you had been no older than twelve. Like most long weekends, your family had been hiking and camping in the woods near your town but the trip had taken a terrible turn when your father had gone missing while collecting firewood. The search had lasted for hours but no one had found any trace of him and eventually, your family had contacted Mountain Rescue. You had never seen him again.

Now you quickly decided to call for help, knowing that there was little you could do on your own and knowing that you needed the help of mountain rescuers or rangers. But when you reached for your phone in your pocket you realized that you had left it at the lodge. After surveying the area, you decided that making a straight line through the woods would take you back to the lodge much faster and you quickly took off.

But as you made your way through the woods, you suddenly felt the ground underneath you give out. With a panicked scream, you tried to grab onto something to keep you from falling but it was hopeless and you plummeted into the darkness.

#fanfiction #textpost #writing #until dawn #until dawn x reader #until dawn imagine #josh washington x reader #josh washington imagine #josh until dawn #until dawn josh #josh washington

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

look down on me like that - 5 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 11.4k (you're welcome 😌)

contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! *deep breath in* YES THERE IS ACTUAL FUCKING HAPPENING - EVERYONE REMAIN CALM. also i promise this is the most unhinged reader gets lmao. alright let's go: one night stand/stranger sex, semi-public sex (bathroom of a bar), fingering, spanking, a truly gratuitous blowjob, orgasm denial, a smidge of dirty talk/namecalling, finger sucking?, protected sex, semi-awkward sex lmao, the hatefucking is HERE 🙌🏻 plenty of alcohol mentions as always,, so much alcohol. this chapter also features a couple fun cameos - kihyun of monsta x and wonho 💜

A/N: hope y'all enjoy this absolute CHAOS!! i have so many lovely friends who cheered me on while i was writing this, far too many to name, but i fucking adore you all 🥺🥺 and i do want to specifically shoutout @kiestrokes because the ~spicy twist~ in this chapter would not be HALF as good if it wasn't for her and her big beautiful brain. srsly she took a half-baked idea i had and made it insane. god i love that woman. ALRIGHT ENOUGH BABBLING - ENJOY!!!!!

read on AO3!

chapter four | masterlist | chapter six

~*~

“Try this.” Jimin yanks an emerald green dress off the hanger and chucks it over his shoulder, nearly hitting you.

“Ugh, I hate this one,” you groan as you hold the offending item up for inspection, pinched between index finger and thumb. “The fabric is so itchy.”

Your best friend whips around, hands on hips, when you question his taste. “I’m sorry, did I just hear you going back on our agreement? Is that what this is?”

You groan, flopping over onto your bedspread, doing your best not to mess up your hair. Jimin had, understandably, been pissed when you’d called him immediately upon leaving the office last night, hands still shaking as you cradled the phone against your cheek. You think you have permanent hearing damage from the anguished wails your best friend made as you finally admitted everything you hadn’t told him. And you certainly could have done without the appreciative noises he made after he forced you to describe Suga’s dick in explicit detail.

It’s not like you aren’t constantly thinking about it, anyway.

Especially now that Yoongi has specifically told you everything, everything he wants to do to you. The words swim back to you in pieces whenever you aren’t actively trying to suppress the memory. Finger that tight little pussy. Spank you until you bruise. Fuck you like the slut you so clearly are.

God. You’ve been horny for 24 hours straight. This can’t be good for your health.

Jimin had nearly disowned you for letting secrecy infiltrate your friendship for the first time in over a decade, but then he’d realized how truly distraught you were as you just kept babbling into the phone about Suga, too far gone to make any sense.

“Jesus fucking christ, it’s not the end of the world!” He’d finally interrupted with a frustrated groan. “You really think Suga is the only man in the world who can fuck you senseless? He was probably overselling it anyway. Having a pretty dick doesn’t guarantee he knows what to do with it.”

At this point you’d stumbled onto the bus home, and you remember smacking your forehead against the cold glass of the window with a whine at the words pretty dick, your mind already departing on another Yoongi spiral.

Jimin’s peal of laughter rang in your ears. “I’ve never heard you down this bad in my life, good god girl! We just need to get you laid so your fucking brain can work right again.”

“Please,” you’d grunted.

“Alright, I’m coming over tomorrow, and we’re going out.” He’d paused then, and you knew there was more even before he continued. It was like you could hear his evil smile. “And I get to pick your outfit.”

You’re snapped out of the memory as a second dress is tossed your way, this one hitting you square in the face.

“Either the green or this one. You’re still in the doghouse, ma’am,” Jimin reminds you.

You pull the second option up to examine it, already grateful for the softer feel of the material. Jimin loves to put you in shit that you’d never wear— usually dresses that he bought for you, or bullied you into buying. You think you already dress pretty racy when you go out, but Jimin likes to take it to another level, always encouraging you to show more skin, more tits, more ass. He’s definitely responsible for this number even being in your closet: dark burgundy in color, it’s tight, short, and the cutouts leave very little to the imagination.

You whine softly despite yourself. “Do I have to? I’m going to freeze to death.”

Jimin has already moved to sit at your desk, examining his hair in the mirror you use to do your makeup. He’s in one of his favorite going-out shirts, one he claims “makes even the straight boys look twice”, a blue and white striped button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He doesn’t even bother making eye contact with you as he peers at his reflection, fiddling with the silver hoops in his ears. “I dunno. Depends on whether or not you value my friendship.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “I can’t stand you.”

“Will you shut up and put your damn freakum dress on already?” He rummages through your makeup bag without asking until he finds what he’s looking for, a tube of Fenty gloss that he dabs in the center of his bottom lip.

“That is not what freakum dress means,” you say with a laugh as you stand to strip out of your sweats, but he’s already reaching for his phone that’s connected to your Bluetooth speaker, another requirement for the evening in order to keep your friendship intact. Beyoncé starts to blast as you pull your shirt over your head and suck in for dear life.

“So, what exactly is the plan?” You ask as soon as you swallow down another shot, nearly shouting to be heard over the noise of the bar. Jimin made you do a couple in your kitchen before you left, and though you haven’t even been out for an hour, you’re already straddling the line between tipsy and drunk.

He shoots you a look. “Don’t act so innocent, like I haven’t personally seen you go home with random dudes.”

Your gaze flits over the mass of bodies out on the dance floor. “I mean, yeah, but…” You shrug, grimacing slightly. “I don’t know, it’s been a while. And we’re not in college anymore.”

“What about him?” You look back at Jimin and he nods his head behind you. You do your best to be subtle as you glance over your shoulder to see two guys a couple of tables away.

“Which one?”

Jimin makes a face like it’s obvious. “Are you kidding me? The absolutely built daddy with the red hair?”

You examine them more closely, scrunching your nose up a little. He’s cute, big as hell, and you certainly notice his bubble butt in those tight pants. But it just doesn’t feel right. “I don’t know that he’s my type.” When your gaze lands on his friend, dressed in all black, dark hair skimming over his eyes as he leans in to say something, your heart flips in your chest. Now that could work.

Turning back to Jimin to say as much, you realize that he’s already brushing past you. “Well I’m not stupid,” he scoffs, and you scramble to follow after him as he stalks confidently across the room.

He’s already talking to them when you catch up. “Hi boys. Care for some company?”

They glance at each other, and you can tell Jimin’s presence is clearly unexpected but not unwelcome. He wasn’t wrong: nobody can resist him in that damn shirt.

“Sure,” red-haired daddy says with a shy giggle, and you have to bite back a smile. You were not expecting a guy that built to react so softly, and you already know your best friend is going feral on the inside. There is nothing Jimin loves more than a man he can fluster. Especially one who can make him pay for it.

His friend flags down a server and orders a round of shots for the table, then gives you a small wave as Jimin takes the liberty of giving his name and yours. “I’m Kihyun.”

“Hoseok,” Jimin's target is clearly squirming under his intense gaze. “But my friends call me Wonho.”

“Can I be your friend?” Jimin purrs. You’re nearly laughing at how quickly he lost the plot of trying to get you laid, but he’s also such an intense flirt that it nearly works as a wingman maneuver, in its own weird way.

You scoot a little closer to Kihyun as Jimin and Wonho disappear into their own conversation. Up close you can really admire how attractive he is, full lips and a wickedly sharp jawline.

“Hi,” you say with a smile, surprised to find yourself slightly nervous despite the alcohol coursing through your system.

“Hi,” he says back, and he looks like he’s about to say more when the server reappears with a tray of four shots.

“Thanks again for these,” you say as you reach for one, and he waves it off. You glance over at Jimin and Wonho, assuming they might want to toast as a group, but Jimin is already hooking his elbow around Wonho’s ridiculous bicep and making a not-at-all-subtle comment about how big he is, intertwining their arms before they each throw the shot back.

You look at Kihyun again, who is biting his lip nervously, and you can feel your face heat up. You’re no Jimin, so you settle for gently tapping your shot glass against his. “Cheers.”

He echoes the sentiment and you down your drinks simultaneously. You shiver a little as you swallow, but you’ve had enough that you don’t even feel the burn of the alcohol.

“So,” Kihyun’s eyes flit over to Jimin, then return to you. “Do you two come here a lot?”

You shrug. “We rotate. Jimin likes this place more than I do. You?”

He laughs softly. “Not really. Honestly, we’re both homebodies, but we try to get out every so often. Always nice to meet new people.” It’s so quick you nearly miss it, but you swear his eyes jump down your figure and back up again.

You try to ignore the little voice in your head reminding you of another pair of eyes; dark, calculating, wandering over your body. Not now.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you say, because it’s true: a new person is definitely what you need in this moment.

Before you can ask a follow-up question, you hear Jimin, talking loudly so that he’s audible over the music. “Your thighs look so good in those pants!” You have to resist the urge to smack your head against the table when you look over to see him attempting— and absolutely failing— to wrap his small hands around the circumference of Wonho’s leg, who is giggling like a schoolgirl.

You glance back at Kihyun, who is equally enraptured. “I’m so sorry,” you say quietly. “He is unfortunately always like this.”

“You know where else those thighs would look good?” Jimin’s voice lowers as he asks the question, and you watch Kihyun’s eyes go wide.

“Do you want to dance?” You say quickly, and he nods so fast you think his head might fall off. You start to break away from the group, his hand slipping to your waist, when Jimin smacks the table so loud that it makes you jump.

“Hey!” He yells, and you turn back, but he’s pointing at Kihyun, who instantly looks terrified. He leans in, as if to divulge confidential information, and Kihyun takes a tentative step towards him.

“Just so you’re aware,” Jimin starts, and you know it’s going to be bad. “She needs to get dicked down. Severely. Hope you’re ready.”

You close your hand around Kihyun’s wrist and drag him towards the dance floor, eager for a distraction to keep you from murdering your best friend.

Now that you’re actually in motion, you can feel the last couple of shots quickly catching up to you, the room blurring slightly at the edges. At the center of the dance floor, the thudding bass is loud enough to make it hard to think, which is exactly what you need right now.

You’re grateful not to have to force any more conversation, both of Kihyun’s hands slipping to your hips as you start to move in time to the music. It gives you free reign to admire him up close, and damn, he really is gorgeous. He’s only a little taller than you in your heels— probably about the same height as Yoongi, though his frame is slighter, smaller. You watch as his dark hair falls into his eyes again and he reaches up to sweep it off his forehead— Yoongi’s hair is a little longer, and he certainly has much better hands, but other than that—

You have to squeeze your eyes shut when you realize what the fuck you're doing. The whole point of this encounter is to stop thinking about Yoongi. Not pick apart this absolute stranger in comparison to him.

You desperately wish you could get another drink, but you know that would push you all the way into “drunk” territory. As much as you hate admitting it, Jimin was right: you really need to be able to consent to sex tonight. You’re gonna have to get through this the old-fashioned way, with sheer fucking willpower.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes flutter open to meet Kihyun’s concerned gaze. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just, uh. Thinking about work.” Not a complete lie.

“Well, don’t,” he says with a soft laugh. “It’s the weekend. You should enjoy it.” His hands press a little tighter, pulling you close until your body is flush with his. His breath ghosts over your neck as you hear his voice in your ear. “That dress looks really good on you.”

A different voice echoes in your mind before you can stop it. Spread your legs for me. Show me what’s under that dress. You can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to literally go insane, and then you grab Kihyun’s face with both hands and kiss him in a desperate attempt to not think anymore.

You can feel him freeze, clearly not expecting it, but after a second his mouth starts to move against yours. His hands slip further down towards your ass, and fuck, it occurs to you that you are still incredibly horny. You need this to happen as soon as possible.

Pulling away and sliding your hands to Kihyun’s shoulders, you tilt up to speak into his ear. “Do you live near here?”

His eyes go wide for at least the third time tonight. “Y-yeah, not far.” You see his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

“I don’t know how to say this politely,” you admit with an embarrassed smile. “But my friend wasn’t wrong. About… what I need.”

He pauses for a moment, and your stomach twists as you prepare for rejection, the reasonable reaction considering you basically jumped this man like a crazy person. But then he smiles, leaning into you so he can keep his tone soft. “Come on, then.”

You follow Kihyun as he guides you towards the exit, keeping one hand pressed to the small of your back. It’s hard to miss the other half of your group making their way through the crowd— Wonho is large enough that people quickly shrink to get out of his way, but his gaze is entirely transfixed on Jimin’s ass in front of him. You nod in their direction and Kihyun follows as you push past bodies to reunite.

“Are you leaving?!” Jimin asks, and you can only nod. His eyes jump to Kihyun. “I told you, you better give it to her!” He shouts it so loudly that people standing behind him glance over their shoulders, but he is fully unfazed, now brandishing his cellphone. “And I always have her location on, so if you murder her, I will come find you!”

With a roll of your eyes, you lean across the circle so that Wonho can hear you. “Take good care of him, okay?” When you pull away, you swear he’s blushing as red as his hair, and he nods sheepishly.

You turn back to Kihyun. “Ready?”

The door to Kihyun’s apartment barely has time to close behind you before you find his lips with yours again. He presses you up against the wall of the entryway, and you waste no time in moving your hands over his body. His shirt and pants hit the floor in quick succession.

When he reaches for the hem of your dress, you cover his hands with yours to stop him. “Do you— is it okay if I keep it on?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, breathless. “Yeah, okay.”

He kisses you again and you let him guide you backwards through an open door into his bedroom until you feel the mattress hit the backs of your knees. You perch on the edge of the bed and glance around the room, taking it in. It’s clean, if minimally furnished, and your stomach flips when you see a nondescript work desk tucked into one corner.

You look at Kihyun when you feel his hand gently rub your thigh, encouraging you to spread your legs.

“Kihyun?”

“Yeah?”

Your gaze jumps to his desk, then back to him. “Do— uh… Do you think you could bend me over your desk?”

He seems a little dumbfounded, and takes a second to find words. “Wh— I— yeah, yes, I can do that. I just—” he clears his throat. “Do you need, like, foreplay, or…?”

You stand up again, knees shaking slightly. “I’ll tell you what to do, does that work?”

It must, because he kisses you, eventually starting to move towards the desk. When you’ve gotten far enough, you feel him tug at your hips, encouraging you to spin around so your back is flush with his chest. His hand slides up to your shoulders to gently press you forward, and you brace your forearms on the desk, already breathless.

“P-pull my dress up,” you manage to instruct. His hands caress over your thighs, then move to the hem of your dress, pushing up until your ass is fully exposed for him.

Get a good look at that ass you were tempting me with, the voice in your head finishes for you. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on this moment, this man. Not any others.

You look back at Kihyun over your shoulder in an attempt to stay present, spreading your legs a little wider. “Touch me.”

He slowly moves a hand from your thigh up towards your core, and you feel his fingers just barely brush over the fabric of your underwear. The rush of contact after so much anticipation is enough to make you shiver slightly, but his touch is so light, so gentle.

Gentle is not what you need right now.

Keeping yourself held up on one arm, you reach the other behind you to forcefully tug your panties to the side. “Your fingers, Kihyun,” you hiss.

You tip your head forward and swallow down a whine of relief as he presses a digit into you and starts to rub circles. “How’s that?” His voice purrs in your ear, and you whimper as you nod.

It feels good, especially when he adds a second finger, but it’s not enough. He’s too soft, too tentative.

You look back at him again. “Can you spank me?”

You’ve officially lost count of the number of times you’ve surprised this man tonight. “I— what?”

“Like, smack my ass?”

“Like this?” He asks, but you barely feel it when he brings his hand down over your ass.

“Harder,” you say almost instantly, realizing after the fact that you could probably stand to be a little nicer to this random stranger. “Please.”

Kihyun’s second attempt is better, enough to make you groan softly as the sensation of the sting mixes with the movements of his fingers pressing against your front wall. He does it again, harder still, and you wiggle your ass back towards him— you need more, more than his hands can give.

“Kihyun,” you gasp, “want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? I’ll fuck you right here,” he grunts. At least he seems to be genuinely into it, you think to yourself gratefully. He smacks your ass a final time and you bite down on your lip as he withdraws his fingers. “One second.”

You hear the sound of him opening a drawer somewhere in his room and retrieving a condom, and you let your eyes flutter closed until his hands brush over your hips again.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Kihyun, please,” you beg, your head dropping down onto your forearms. “Please fuck me.” Desire is wound up so tight inside you that you can’t think about anything else; you need this so fucking badly.

He makes a strangled whine as he presses into you, and you move your hips back onto him, gasping slightly at the stretch. “Fuck.”

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Kihyun groans, and he starts to roll into you with steady thrusts that brush the head of his cock right over your g-spot. You push backwards, matching his rhythm, and he’s not wrong: it feels good.

But it’s not enough.

“Harder,” you groan, your voice muffled in the crook of your elbow, and you hear Kihyun grunt as he picks up the pace, hips snapping against your ass. Better, but somehow still not what you need.

“Please, Kihyun,” you encourage again. “Fuck me like a slut.”

“Jesus,” he breathes, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve finally broken him. But then his hand cracks over your ass, hard enough to take you by surprise, and he starts to thrust even faster.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, and his voice is tense, almost angry; something about it makes your walls start to flutter. Your orgasm is so frustratingly close, yet somehow beyond your grasp.

And then you hear that all-too familiar voice in your head. I want to make you come so hard that your legs shake. Before you can help it, you moan a little at the memory. The way Yoongi leveled his gaze on you as he spoke so calmly, in a way that had you believing every single word. You can feel your core starting to tighten at the very thought, and once your brain realizes that’s what will get you there, it’s like the fucking floodgates open.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, and you can hear him grunt in agreement, like he’s close, too.

You’re helpless to stop it now, too desperate to come. Yoongi’s voice, his face, his tongue, his hands, his cock. It’s all you can think of. You gasp as everything inside you tightens and starts to pulse.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna come,” you whine. So hard that you have no choice but to scream my name as I wreck you, the voice in your head finishes, and you dig your nails into the desk beneath you as you reach your climax.

Your back arches, pleasure washing over you, and you cry out. “Yes, Yoongi, yes!”

There’s a moment where his hips stutter, and then he pushes all the way into you one last time with a grunt of effort as he comes, too. Your heartbeat starts to slow.

And then it occurs to you that the man fucking you is absolutely not named Yoongi, and you smack a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you say softly, voice muffled, and you remove your hand as you start to straighten up. You can hear Kihyun still breathing heavily behind you, but he’s otherwise silent as he releases his grip on your hips and slides out of you.

“Kihyun,” you turn to watch him cross the room to the en-suite bathroom, where he briefly disappears to dispose of the condom. Face burning with embarrassment, you awkwardly maneuver to readjust your underwear and pull your dress back down over your ass.

When he reappears in the doorway, you try again. “Kihyun, I am so sorry. I—I don’t—” you fumble for what to say, knowing full well you don’t have a good explanation. At least not one that doesn’t make you sound insane.

“It’s cool,” he says, but he’s clearly uncomfortable. “I mean, you know. Shit happens.”

You glance around nervously for your phone before realizing it’s back on the table in the entryway where you tossed it in the throes of passion. You shoot Kihyun a weak smile. “I should— let me call Jimin. I can get a ride home.”

Kihyun laughs dryly. “Yeah, I’m gonna take a wild guess that he might be a little busy. I can take you home. It’s not a big deal.”

As much as your pride wants to refuse, you don’t exactly have a backup plan. “I would really appreciate that,” you murmur.

The drive is silent and painfully awkward, Kihyun turning up the music just loud enough that you get the indication that he doesn’t want to talk. As the lights of the city stream by, you can’t help but wonder how everything got so fucked up.

When Kihyun pulls up to your apartment complex, you indicate where he can drop you off, and he reaches over you as the car slows to a stop to politely open the door.

“Have a good night,” he says firmly, and you can barely manage a word of thanks before you slip out of his car and head up the stairs to die of embarrassment.

Jimin shows up at your door late Sunday afternoon, a takeout bag of haejangguk tucked under one arm, gushing incessantly about the various ways Wonho threw him around all night. It feels like he babbles for an hour, until he finally takes a break to sip from his own container of soup, and prompts you with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Your turn. Was your mission successful?”

You keep your gaze firmly planted on the floor as you recount what happened.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

~*~

Jimin decides that you’ll try again next weekend, promising he’ll be less distracted. You’re not positive you’ll survive that long. You preemptively text Jungkook asking to take the week off from boxing class - your stomach is such a fucking bundle of nerves that you barely sleep at all Sunday night, and you know the next five days spent in constant fear of running into Yoongi is only going to make it worse.

Those same nerves creep up into your throat when you unlock the doors Monday morning, Jungkook waiting patiently behind you with his hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack.

Dread blooms inside of you as you move to place your purse on your desk, and then you make a split-second decision, spinning back to face Jungkook.

“Hey, JK?” The nickname is unplanned, just sort of comes out, but you see him visibly brighten. “Are there any open desks on your side of the office? I think I need a change of scenery.”

He nods, eyes wide. “Yeah! I’m actually all by myself right now. Sunye is on maternity leave for the rest of the month. You can use her desk.”

You gesture for him to lead the way and he does, heading past the break room and walking backwards down the hallway to keep talking to you. “Is there something wrong with your normal desk? We can always put in a work order.”

“Uh, no,” you scramble, trying to find a good excuse. “It can just be a little distracting, you know. People coming in and out all day. I’ve got a lot of stuff I need to be heads-down on this week.”

The excuse sounds flimsy and false to you, but he seems to buy it. “Yeah, makes sense! I’ll try not to distract you too much.”

He does a full 360-degree spin on his heels as you turn the corner at the end of the hall, and it’s enough to make you laugh softly despite yourself. There’s a small alcove with a desk pressed against either wall, and you don’t even have to ask which one is Jungkook’s. The standing desk is dotted with tell-tale signs of Baby Star Candy: an empty shaker cup, a mini tub of protein powder, several fidget toys tucked beneath his monitor. A small collage of polaroids is taped to the wall where you see him smiling with friends, throwing up a peace sign in nearly every single one.

Sunye’s desk is mostly empty, save for a few framed photos of her with her husband and two young kids. You drop your purse down and take a seat as Jungkook chucks his backpack under his desk, both of you reaching to retrieve your laptops.

Outlook hasn’t even loaded before he’s turned around and talking to you again. “So how was your weekend?”

You grimace reflexively at memories you’d rather forget, and Jungkook misinterprets the look. “Oh, sorry, no distractions. I’ll be quiet.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s not you. My weekend was fine. What about yours?”

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed. “I mean, honestly? I’m super addicted to this new mobile game that just came out. I feel like I blinked and lost two days.” He’s already reaching for his cellphone. “Want to see?” You roll your chair across to his side of the room as Jungkook leans over to show you the little island world he’s nearly 500 levels into. After a few minutes, he seems to remember himself.

“Shit, you specifically said you came here to focus. I’m sorry, I really will leave you alone now.”

You bite down on your bottom lip. “No, it’s okay, JK. I— honestly, I wasn’t being entirely truthful when I said that. I don’t mind the distraction at all, actually. It’s kind of complicated, but… it would be nice if I could hide out here for the foreseeable future.”

He looks at you, clearly surprised. “Of course. Whatever you need. Is everything okay?”

You wince a little, with no idea how to answer that question.

His voice drops. “Is it Suga?”

“It’s complicated.” You repeat with a sigh.

An unfamiliar emotion flashes in Jungkook’s eyes. You’ve never seen him angry before, but you’d guess this is what it looks like. “Hey, seriously, if he’s being aggressive with you, we should do something about it. Report it or something.”

You have to suppress the urge to laugh in his face. Like Yoongi being aggressive with you isn’t exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about for days.

“No, it’s not like that,” you reassure him. “I think we’re just two people who are better off kept apart from each other. That’s all.”

Jungkook nods slowly, and it’s clear from his expression that he wants to pry more, but is forcing himself not to. “Okay.”

There’s a heaviness of unasked and unanswered questions in the air, but the two of you manage to lapse into corporate smalltalk as you roll back over to your desk and dive into your workday.

Jungkook eventually has to peel off for a few virtual meetings, and watching him work is its own source of entertainment. If it’s a meeting that requires his focus, you can tell because he leans in close to his monitor, staring at spreadsheets or data visualizations with a look on his face like he’s using every single brain cell he owns.

You can also tell when he’s put on calls where he clearly isn’t needed, because he’ll spin in a full circle at his desk with a glazed over look in his eye. There are even a few times where you glance up to see him silently doing what you vaguely recognize as TikTok dances, and you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from outright laughing.

The day rolls on, and you’re neck deep in drafting a communication when Jungkook’s voice breaks your concentration. “Do you like ramyeon?”

Your head snaps up to see him lean down under his desk to grab his backpack. He unzips it to retrieve two containers of instant noodles, and when he offers one to you, you give an approving nod. “I usually bring two in case I get extra hungry. I’ll make it, come meet me in the break room when you finish what you’re doing.”

You genuinely believe him on the first day, but when he just so happens to bring a second lunch on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, you start to get a little suspicious.

Friday has you stuck on a working session straight through your usual lunch hour, and Jungkook disappears without a word, returning as you’re pulling your headset off with two to-go salads in a plastic bag.

“I ordered one, and they gave me two. Crazy, right?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him to signal that you don’t believe a damn word, but you still thank him as you follow him down the hall to the break room.

“You’re coming out tonight, right?” He asks over lunch, and it takes you a second to remember the planned happy hour your boss has scheduled for the office. You’re torn between never wanting to see the inside of a bar again, and the overwhelming desire to drink as much as you can on the company’s dime. Ideally enough to obliterate the brain cells that store your memories of last weekend.

In the end, your cheapness wins out. Plus, given that it’s a social work event, you’d bet your entire salary that Yoongi will be nowhere to be found. You figure it might actually prove to be a good distraction. “Sure, yeah. At least for a couple drinks.”

“Cool,” Jungkook smiles a little as he spears a piece of chicken on his plastic fork. “Let me know when you’re done for the day, we can head over together.”

As much as you’d like to blow off early, a phone call that was supposed to take fifteen minutes ends up lasting over an hour. You mute your headset briefly to give a loud sigh, and shoot Jungkook a silent pout in apology when he meets your gaze, but he just flips his phone around to show you the progress he’s making on his island. At least he’s good at keeping himself entertained, you think with a smile.

Finally the person leading the call seems to come to the extremely delayed realization that no one is going to make any more progress on the issue after 5 PM on a Friday, and things wrap up pretty quickly after that. You and Jungkook gather your things and head for the front, and the office is a ghost town.

Your eyes drift down the opposite hallway towards the Genius Lab, your pulse quickening a little. You’ve checked the lab every evening this week and have luckily only found it empty, but you’re nearly an hour ahead of schedule today. And you don’t exactly have a great track record with Yoongi when it comes to Fridays.

“I should probably…”

“I can do it,” Jungkook cuts in softly. You’re hit with the automatic urge to say no, to shield him from this chaos in any way you can. But it would be really nice to not have to deal with Yoongi for one fucking day.

“I would appreciate that,” you reply, and Jungkook is already striding down the hall. You pretend to busy yourself on your phone as you hear a knock, then the electronic beeps of him punching the code into the door lock. When you glance up, you see him push the door open and stick his head inside, then promptly close it again.

“He’s gone. Let’s get out of here.”

The bar your boss has chosen is only a few blocks away from the office, and Jungkook holds the door open for you to enter first when you arrive. You don’t see your group right when you first walk in, and you have to round a bend in the layout of the building before you spot the long table of familiar faces.

You move to take a step forward, but Jungkook nearly imperceptibly brings a hand to your elbow to stop you. He says nothing, which is unlike him, and you start to ask a question.

“Wh—” the words die in your mouth when you see Yoongi smiling politely into a glass of whiskey, seated at the table next to your boss. His gaze flickers up to meet yours. Your stomach twists as you watch the smile immediately drop off his face.

“We can go,” Jungkook says quickly, but you know you can’t give him the satisfaction.

“It’s fine,” you say, and it comes out a little more harsh than you mean it to. “We don’t have to sit near him.” Jungkook follows your lead to the opposite end of the table. When you take your seats, he almost immediately gets sucked into a conversation with some of the audio engineers. You do your best to at least act like you’re following along, but it feels like the room is spinning despite the fact that you’re entirely sober.

That absolutely needs to change, you quickly determine. You’re sitting at the corner of the table, so it’s easy enough to slip out and get to your feet. Jungkook glances up when you do.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and your tone must be direct enough that he doesn’t ask any follow-up questions or offer his company. Which is fine, you think to yourself as you cross the room. You’re perfectly capable of walking to the bar and ordering a drink on your own.

At least it feels that way until you sweep your gaze across the room, waiting on a bartender to acknowledge your presence, and realize Yoongi is headed straight towards you, empty glass in hand.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You set your jaw, determined not to let him smell your fear, and renew your conviction to flag someone down and get a drink as fast as possible. When Yoongi takes a seat at the barstool next to you, you will your face not to react. But you’re not quite fast enough to remember to tell your mouth to stay shut, too.

“What are you doing here?” You snap, refusing to look him in the eye.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, voice even, and you blink hard. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. “I figured an event with free alcohol was a good place to start. Let’s hope no one wore their good shoes tonight.”

Setting your jaw has turned into fully gritting your teeth, and you’ve never been more grateful to see a bartender when one approaches. You order quickly, and see Yoongi silently lift his empty glass as a request in your periphery.

“What do you want, Yoongi?”

When he hums and doesn’t respond right away, you glance over to see him running a finger around the rim of his finished drink. Just his fucking hand is enough to send a shiver up your spine, and you tear your gaze away.

“Well, for one, I honestly have to say I was surprised when HR didn’t personally escort me out of the building Monday morning.”

Your head snaps up to look at him again as you parse out his meaning. “Really?”

Yoongi’s gaze meets yours, his brows slightly pinching together as if he’s surprised that you’re surprised. “Uh, yeah.”

You’re so shocked it takes you a minute to form words. “I— I mean, it’s not like it was unprovoked.”

He makes a face as if he’s considering it, shrugging a little. “I suppose.”

As you drop your gaze to the wood grain of the bar, you can’t help but wonder if that was meant to be an apology. You barely have time to process that thought before the bartender returns, setting your drinks down, and you reach for yours like a woman dehydrated. When you take a sip, it’s strong— exactly what you need in this moment.

You’re already halfway off the barstool, very ready to get back to your seat at the table, when Yoongi speaks up again.

“Do you want to hear a funny story?” Something in his tone makes you pause, and he keeps going.

“I heard from an old friend a few days ago. We used to be really close, but lately I don’t think we’ve talked in…” He shakes his head in disbelief, like he’s trying to think. “God, probably years. I’ve been so focused on work. You know how I get.”

You physically recoil at his strange candor, how comfortable he suddenly is with implying that you know him. Your stomach is already starting to turn, though you can’t put a finger on why. It just feels like he’s playing with you.

Yoongi rolls his glass between his palms as he continues. “So you know, we catch up, ask how life is going, all the usual shit. And then my friend— Kihyun, that’s his name— Kih starts telling me about this crazy hookup he had last weekend.”

You nearly drop your drink as your blood runs cold. Yoongi continues the charade, pretending like he’s telling you something you don’t already know first-hand.

“He said he got approached by this super hot girl out of nowhere, and that she was fucking desperate for it. Barely said two words to him before she was asking him to take her home. And once he did, he said the sex was wild. I mean, it definitely sounded great to me when he gave me the play-by-play.” He pauses for a moment, and when he speaks again, there’s a new tone to his voice, almost aggressive. “Straight out of one of my own fantasies, really.”

You take a nervous gulp of your drink in hopes that it might help cool down your burning face— whether it’s from shame or rage, you can’t tell.

“And get this.” Yoongi’s voice is grave now, all pretense of telling a funny story gone as he turns to fully face you. “You’re never gonna believe whose name she cried out when she came. Because it sure wasn’t Kih’s.”

The shock of his words, at the fact that he knows this, is enough to freeze you where you stand. You’re nearly shaking with the chaotic storm of emotions swirling in your brain, and it takes every ounce of willpower you can muster to keep your voice steady as you fix him in your gaze. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business who or how I fuck, Yoongi.”

“Oh, I think it’s absolutely my business when you’re calling them my fucking name. And I don’t understand why you’d settle for imitation when you could have the real thing.” Despite how livid you are, you don’t miss the way your pussy flutters at the smug look on his face.

“Maybe it’s because your friend doesn’t come with all the strings attached that you do.”

“Strings?” He quirks an eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning on dating you, sweetheart.”

You can’t believe how dense he is, and you slam your drink down on the bar. “No, Yoongi, but you’re my fucking coworker. Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘don’t shit where you eat’?” He chuckles dryly into the rim of his glass. “It’s a bad fucking idea.”

He examines you as he takes a sip of whiskey, then finally speaks again. “Here’s the way I see it. We are both sane, consenting adults, very capable of being rational about this.” You scoff in disbelief at how calmly he can say such a thing as you take another long pull from your drink. “There’s obviously a lot of pent-up feelings going on. I’m not saying we have to be friends. Hell, we don’t even have to like each other. Sometimes it’s more fun when you don’t.”

Not expecting that commentary, you nearly choke on the ice in your glass. Yoongi gives you a moment to recover before continuing.

“It seems to me like we could establish something that would be mutually beneficial. Get some of that energy out. If anything, I think it might help both of us actually focus on our work, and that would in turn benefit everyone. It’d certainly be a lot better than the two of us running around like a couple of horny teenagers the way we have been lately. It’s not a purely selfish thing.”

You hate that his stupid logical argument makes sense to you. You hate it so much that you finish your drink in one swallow.

“Look, I’ll make it easy for you,” he says, eyes locked on you, his voice dropping into a lower register. The tone immediately takes you back to the last time you were in his lab. The things he said to you. The things he wanted to do to you. Heat pools in your belly before you can tell it not to.

“I’m going to head back to the group. You get yourself another drink, come join us, and take some time to think about it.”

He leans in to speak the next part directly into your ear, his voice quiet. Every nerve ending in your body lights up at the feeling of his breath against your neck. “Then I’m going to get up and go to the restroom. I’ll give you three minutes to discreetly excuse yourself and join me. If you don’t show, I’ll drop all of this and leave you alone. Promise.”

Yoongi pulls away, shooting you that trademark smirk, knowing full well that he doesn’t have to explain what will happen if you do decide to join him. He already has. Then he slips off the barstool, glass of whiskey in hand, and strides back towards the table.

When you order the next round, you ask for a double.

You do your best to act like the world isn’t ending as you return to your seat at the table. The conversation continues around you, without you; you can only stare dumbly at the empty space between two of your coworkers as you take a long swig of your drink. You’re vaguely aware of discussions of upcoming mixtapes and the Grammy’s, but your brain can’t process anything over the roaring in your ears, the pounding of your heartbeat in your gut— and a little lower.

You feel insane, enraged, and deliriously aroused.

You have no concept of how quickly time is passing, no clue if it’s been an instant or an hour when you see movement from the other end of the table out of the corner of your eye. There’s no self-control left in your system to keep your jaw from going slack, to keep you from unabashedly watching as Yoongi gets up from the table and strides confidently across the bar toward the restroom. He doesn’t so much as glance in your direction.

“Are you alright?”

You whip around at Jungkook’s voice, having completely forgotten there was anyone else in the room. It takes a second for you to snap your mouth shut, and then you realize you have to open it to answer his question.

“I— uh—” You can barely string a sentence together. “My drink is really strong.”

“Do you need some water?”

When you nod, he’s up in a flash, heading towards the bar, and you realize as you watch him disappear that it might have been a bad idea to let yourself be left alone. Because now you have no distraction from the way every cell in your body is screaming at you.

It’s obvious that there is a right choice and a wrong choice here. And you’ve tried so hard, for so long, to be smart. To deny the truth, to say no and go home, to channel the energy out in any other way. But none of it has worked. You still want this terrible man to do terrible things to you, maybe now more than ever. And you’re so fucking tired of making the right choice.

So tonight, you resolve with a final sip of your drink, you’ll make the wrong one. Fuck it.

You slip away from the table before Jungkook returns, following the same path Yoongi did towards the back of the bar. When you reach for the handle of the restroom door, your pulse is racing, enough that you nearly jump out of your skin when the door swings open before you can even touch it. You glance up to find yourself face-to-face with an equally shocked looking Yoongi.

“Your three minutes are up,” he says dryly. Rather than bother with a response, you bring your hand to his chest and firmly shove him back inside the single stall room. You hear him laugh a little as you follow after, pulling the knob and turning the lock into place behind you.

When he takes a step toward you, there’s nowhere for you to go except flush against the door. You watch his eyes drop down your body and back up, taking his time, shameless. His gaze lingers on your mouth.

“Didn’t think you’d really do it,” he murmurs, eyes glinting.

“Call it a lapse in judgment.”

There’s something about the situation that makes you feel like Yoongi has the upper hand— like he expects every part of this to go according to his plan. That, you decide, simply will not do. And then you drop to your knees in front of him.

“Oh my god,” Yoongi breathes, taking a small step back to give you room. “You’re a whore.”

You do your best to shoot a death glare up at him. “I don’t have to do this.”

He smirks. “I meant it as a compliment, honestly. Respectfully.”

That’s it. You’re determined to suck that smug fucking look off his face. “Hands to yourself,” you say firmly. “If you touch me, this all ends.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be giving any orders. But then he nods, raising both hands in the air as if to indicate compliance. You lower your gaze and realize he’s already straining against the fabric of his joggers, which do nothing to hide how hard he is, the thin material clinging to every inch.

In one swift motion, you tug both his pants and boxers down his hips, and you have to actively suppress a soft sigh of appreciation. Yoongi’s ego doesn’t need any more feeding, but damn, his dick is even better up close: long, pale, and pretty.

Glancing back up at him, you maintain eye contact as you lean forward to teasingly trace your tongue along one of the prominent veins that runs the length of his shaft. His eyes are dark with lust as he watches you. Despite being on your knees, a thrill of sheer power runs through you when you see him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple jerking in his throat.

It occurs to you that you are extremely ready to torture this man.

When you reach the tip, you just barely slide your lips over it in an open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock, your tongue swirling in sloppy circles. You can hear Yoongi breathing now, clearly trying and failing to suppress his shaky exhales at your work.

Tilting your head to find the right angle, you take more of him into your mouth, then bring a hand to his shaft to guide the head of his dick to one side. You don’t miss the quiet groan you elicit from him as you let him press against the soft wall of your cheek to create a bulge. He makes the same sound again, louder, when you rub your tongue firmly along the underside of his shaft while you do it.

His hips jerk under your touch as you start to move the hand wrapped around him in slow, deliberate strokes. You recenter him in your mouth and bob your head along his length in time, now sucking firmly. Yoongi’s breath catches on a moan as you keep your tongue pressed tight to his shaft and match the movement of your head to the deliciously slow pace of your hand.

The sound only encourages you, and you lean forward to take even more of him until his cock briefly brushes against the back of your throat. You hold him there for a second, then swallow.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses. You can feel him twitch a little in your mouth, taste it as he leaks precum onto your tongue. You tip back for a few more shallow thrusts, just tormenting him, then repeat the action, humming this time as he hits your throat. His knees nearly buckle.

You glance up at Yoongi as you pull back again, lashes fluttering, and you have to keep yourself from laughing around his cock at the look of pure distress on his face. Now that you’re watching him, you realize his hands are flexing desperately at his sides— it’s clearly taking everything in his power to follow your no touching policy.

Good, you think, and then you lean forward to swallow him down and keep him there, taking as much as you can until your nose is nearly flush with his pelvis. You bob your head, guiding him up and down your throat, choking slightly but too determined to stop even as your eyes start to water.

“Oh my god,” you hear him groan, and your eyebrows raise at the sound of a loud smack. When you look up, still working him in your throat, you realize that he’s helplessly banged a fist on the bathroom door and is now bracing himself against it. You watch as he rakes his other hand through his hair, his head tipping back with a gasp as you increase your pace in response. His hips shudder as he starts to buck softly into your mouth. “Y-yeah, keep doing that, oh fuck, fuck—”

At what feels like the last possible second, you pull off his cock with a soft, wet pop, swallowing down the precum in your mouth. You wipe at the corners of your lips before getting to your feet, legs shaking a little more than you’d like from how long you’ve been on your knees. As you meet his gaze, now at eye-level, it seems you’ve certainly achieved your mission: Yoongi’s usual smug appearance has been replaced with a look of frustrated desperation, courtesy of one denied orgasm.

“Why should I let you get off that easy?” You ask simply, and he makes a noise low in his throat, something between a groan and a laugh.

“Fuck, you are such a bitch.” He advances towards you, and you find yourself backing up, this time until your ass is pressed against the countertop of the bathroom sink. He’s staring at your mouth again, looking at it with what seems to be a little more reverence now that he knows what it’s capable of.

“Am I allowed to touch you yet?” His voice is so low, his mouth so close to yours, that it makes your core ache. The noises you sucked out of him have unfortunately only turned you on even more. “Or are you going to make me beg?”

As much as you’d love to see that, the desperate throb that’s been steadily building between your legs has now overtaken your desire to tease. “Yes, Yoongi, you can touch me.”

The words have barely left your mouth and his hands are already on your hips, firmly spinning you around. You have to clutch the edge of the countertop just to stay upright, but you only feel yourself getting that much wetter at the rough way he handles you. You shiver as he shoves the hem of your dress up to expose your ass, and you can’t help yourself, leaning forward to give him the best possible angle, too desperate for anything less.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, and you’d swear he almost sounds appreciative.

You don’t even have time to process that thought before his hand cracks down over your ass, so hard that it nearly knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You inhale a shaky gasp, your mind reeling in its attempt to catch up, but Yoongi is already pulling your panties to the side, perfect fingers sliding between your folds. There’s no hiding how drenched you are; your upper thighs are starting to stick together with arousal.

Without warning, he presses two fingers firmly into you, and it’s enough to make your jaw go slack. You outright moan when they find purchase against your g-spot, rubbing in tight, expert circles. He could make you come right now if he wanted to.

“You’re so wet for me,” Yoongi’s voice is low and smug, and you don’t need to see his expression to know that cocky smirk has returned to his face. “Been ready for it all night, huh?” You whimper a noise that isn’t disagreement.

“Good,” he says firmly, pairing the word with another smack to your ass. You’re too far gone to try and hold it back now, not with the way his fingers are working inside you, and you moan again. “Because we can’t take too long,” Yoongi continues. “Don’t want anyone getting suspicious. Which is really a damn shame, because there’s so much I want to do to you.”

When he smacks your ass one more time, even harder, and couples it with an insistent press of his fingers against your front wall, you have to grip the edge of the sink for dear life. Your cunt squeezes around him; the noise you make is practically a sob.

He huffs a laugh as he withdraws his fingers, and you glance up to see him retrieving a condom from his pocket and tearing it open. “Wrecked already? And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

You try to compose yourself, but just watching the way his hands work as he rolls the condom over his leaking cock has you aching, clenching around nothing. You really are fucking wrecked— nothing has ever come close to this.

Yoongi’s hands come to your hips, pads of his fingers digging into your skin, and you feel the head of his cock against your entrance, sliding lazily through your folds but purposefully not pressing into you.

“Yoongi,” you whine. You’re too far gone for this teasing.

“You have to tell me what you want,” he says, his voice dark.

You can barely even think a sentence, and you try to push back on him instead, but he keeps you held firmly in place, hands squeezing into the flesh of your hips. “Tell me,” he insists.

“I want you to fuck me,” you manage, and you look up to meet his gaze in the bathroom mirror.

He licks his lips, and you realize that he’s having just as hard a time restraining himself. “That much is obvious,” he says, and you can hear the unsteadiness in his voice now. “How would you like to get fucked?”

You’ve had enough alcohol to brazenly tell the truth. “Like you hate me.”

It may be the first genuine smile of his you’ve ever seen.

“Gladly,” he replies, and then he thrusts all of himself into you at once. You collapse forward on the countertop, crying out at the feeling.

“Yeah,” Yoongi grunts, a little breathless. “You like that?” He pulls nearly all the way out and slams into you one more time, pressing his hips flush with your ass until you feel overwhelmingly full. Then he starts to properly thrust, moving at a pace that can only be described as ruthless.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, your head dropping down as you scramble to brace yourself against the counter. You practically yelp when his hand cracks over your ass again.

He leans forward; you can feel his chest graze over your back, his hips still snapping into you as he grabs your jaw with one hand and forces your gaze up to look at him in the mirror again. You watch as he runs two fingers along your bottom lip in an unasked question. You let your jaw go slack to allow him to slip into your mouth.

When your lips close around his fingers, you find yourself a little grateful to have something to keep you grounded to reality. Your eyes flit up to Yoongi’s face, and his gaze is piercing, eyes totally fixed on you.

“You look so good like this.” His voice is hoarse, strained from effort, and he continues to drive into you, never slowing. Your own hip bones dig into the bathroom counter, shocks of pleasure-pain rippling through you with each thrust. Little moans and whimpers spill out from your mouth around his fingers at the sensation, and you can feel your climax starting to build.

Yoongi withdraws from your mouth, that same hand moving down your body to slip into your panties and circle your clit, earning a gasp from you. His other hand keeps a death grip on your hip as he thrusts, and he straightens up again, the head of his cock now rubbing so perfectly over your g-spot that you hiss.

“Did Kihyun fuck you like this?”

The question catches you off-guard. “N-no,” you gasp, and the hot coil of your arousal tightens in your core. Yoongi’s cock stroking into you, his hand working your clit, the feeling is overwhelming, dizzying. “Oh, god.” Your head presses into your forearm as you give yourself over to the pleasure. You can only distantly hear Yoongi’s voice continue, somewhere between coaxing and demanding.

“I didn’t fucking think so. So why don’t you say it? Tell me who fucks you right. Tell me who you fucking hate.”

The fingers on your clit are unrelenting now, and your edge approaches fast and hard.

“Y-Yoongi,” you breathe, and it feels too good to say his name and mean it. “Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi.” A loud moan rips through you as your legs start to shake. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, “I’m coming, fuck, yes—” You nearly sob as your climax hits you hard, and your walls flutter around Yoongi’s cock over and over in what feels like an endless orgasm.

The pleasure rolls through you, and you look up in the mirror to see Yoongi grit his teeth as he picks up the pace of his hips. A look of desperation paints his face, not unlike the way he looked when you were blowing him, and you know he must be close.

“God fucking damnit,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a thrust, and then he tips his head back and pushes all the way into you with a moan as he comes.

For a moment he pauses like that, gazing up at the ceiling, chest heaving with effort as his dick twitches inside of you. “Holy shit,” he breathes, and then he starts to laugh softly in what appears to be disbelief. “Fuuuuck.”

You haven’t fully recovered, so you can only watch, still gripping the countertop for dear life, as he slips the condom off, chucks it into the trash can, and pulls his boxers and pants up. He gives his reflection a once-over in the mirror, running a hand through his hair, and you’re amazed at how quickly he’s put himself back together. The only indication that he was literally just railing you is the way he’s breathing heavily.

Yoongi notices you watching him and gives your ass one more firm slap, hard enough that you flinch a little.

“Wait a minute or two before you head out,” he instructs, and you nod dumbly. He crosses the room, opens the door, and slips out, all before you can even so much as think a coherent thought.

It takes several more minutes for you to get your shit together, but you eventually manage to readjust your underwear and smooth your dress down, though your legs are certainly still unsteady when you make your way back to the table. You can’t help but shoot a glance over at Yoongi as you pass, and you’re shocked to see him laughing and chatting it up with the group of coworkers seated around him. You see clear expressions of surprise on their faces, too— because he’s never like this. Except, apparently, mere minutes after fucking you.

You don’t even bother to sit down, instead grabbing your purse off the table and slinging the straps over your shoulder.

“Wow, there you are,” Jungkook’s voice drags you out of your thoughts, and the look of concern on his face just makes your stomach turn. You genuinely have no idea how long you were gone for. “Are you okay? Your face looks flushed.”

You don’t know how to answer his question, so you don't. “I think I’m gonna go home.”

“Do you need a ride?”

You shake your head quickly. “I’ll call a friend.”

Perched on the curb outside, you clutch your phone for dear life as you pull up Jimin’s contact to call him. The line rings and you realize you’re shivering; you don’t think it has anything to do with the weather.

You don’t even give him a chance to say hello when the call connects. “Can you come get me?”

He groans on the other end of the line. “Why? I already took my pants off for the night.”

“Baby mochi, please.” You whine, but you know only the full explanation will get him out of bed. You drop your voice a little. “I just hatefucked Suga in the bathroom at the company happy hour. I need you to come pick me up immediately.”

Jimin’s apartment is a ten minute drive away, but you swear he makes it in five.

“Well, well, well,” Your best friend’s voice is smug as you slide into his passenger seat. “If it isn’t the company whore.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jimin.”

~*~

Come Monday morning, you’re racing down the hallway to the conference room, quietly cursing yourself for being late. You’d seen the email from your boss moving the usual Tuesday pull-up to first-thing Monday, but then you’d gotten so tied up with other projects you’d forgotten about it entirely. It was only once you were in the break room, trying to get your caffeine fix in, that you’d glanced up at the wall clock and realized it was already ten after.

Focused as you are on getting to the meeting quickly— and just as importantly, not spilling any of your coffee— you’re completely unaware of your surroundings until it’s too late. You nearly smack directly into Yoongi as you approach the conference room simultaneously.

He smirks as you jump back in surprise. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him since Friday; you’ve been hiding out in Baby Star Candy’s corner all morning. “We’re late,” you say, flustered enough to state the obvious, and he shrugs like he can’t disagree.

“I got distracted.”

Yoongi must notice the way your eyes start to widen. “With work,” he clarifies quickly. He reaches around you to place a hand on the conference room door, and you hear his voice low in your ear. “Amazing how much easier it is to focus today, huh?”

Straightening up to put some space between you, he pushes the door open and gestures for you to go first. You swallow hard and try to keep your composure as you enter the room, briefly apologizing for being late. Yoongi follows behind you silently, slumping into the open seat across the table. You take a sip of your coffee to settle your nerves, which turns out to be a horrible idea when your boss speaks.

“There they are, perfect timing. You’re the very two people my next announcement concerns.”

You just barely manage to keep your drink in your mouth. When your gaze flits to Yoongi across from you, he looks similarly shell-shocked. You can’t help but wonder if you’re about to get fired in front of the entire team.

“We’ve managed to secure funding for the Grammy’s at the end of the month,” your boss says brightly. “We’ll be flying Suga out to do a press circuit as well as attend the award show and surrounding events in-person. We think it will be a great opportunity to network with American artists, try to get his name out there and work on our international appeal.”

“And of course,” your boss’ gaze lands on you, “we all know that our Suga isn’t the most extroverted, or good with schedules, for that matter. We figured he needs a wrangler, and who better than our very own admin?”

You swear your heart stops beating. Your boss keeps going, reminding the team to connect with you about temporarily taking back any deliverables you’ve been handling while you’ll be out of pocket for Grammy’s weekend and subsequent travel time, but you barely process a word. This can’t be happening.

An entire weekend of forced professionalism, in Los Angeles, with the man you just hatefucked in a bathroom. What could possibly go wrong?

chapter four | masterlist | chapter six

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

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pinkjoy-cons · 1 year

Text

𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙼𝚎

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆/𝑨𝒋𝒂𝒙 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Word Count: 2425

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort (i think?) it's fluffy at the end, talking about someone breaking into your house, panicing, screaming, crying, talk/use of weapons, you have a fear of lighting/thunder, unedited. I think that's it.

Note: I am working on making my fics gender neutral but with female body in mind. I have a Diluc fic that will be female and a Kaeya fic that I will rework to make it gen neutral. Just letting y'all know :)

For my darling

You loved Liyue, you truly did. It’s a beautiful city with an even more colorful history and people who make it the way it is today. There are so many sights and sounds and so many unexplored locations around the valleys and plains that it constantly kept you busy. Even when you couldn’t leave to adventure on your own, the city had enough for you to do day in and day out. Zhongli and Hu Tao certainly gave you enough work at the Wanghsheng Funeral Parlor. Being their personal and sometimes only admin worker, you were able to balance the peaceful life of leisure and commission work. You couldn’t have asked for a better city to call your home. There was one thing however you did not anticipate: The rain. More specifically how loud it could get.

You didn’t mind the rain; on the contrary, you loved it. As long as it was calm and light. Nothing like the storms that Liyue sees during their seasons. The rain and thunder would get so boisterous at times it would take everything in your power to not jump in your skin and take shelter under the nearest cover. Even when indoors, you found the comfort of being hidden subsided your disliking of the torrential weather. You weren’t afraid of the rain. That was something you would deny to your dying breath. Your boyfriend, however, would love to playfully poke your side whenever you startle and find comfort in his arms.

“I should really find the Archon who’s causing this storm and thank them. You’re not normally this cuddly when the weather is sunny.” As much as you wanted to smack to stupid smirk that was absolutley on his face, you couldn’t find it in yourself to pry away from Childe’s warm chest where your face was currently buried in. You gripped the front of his shirt as the wind seemed to pick up and cause the rain to hit the window of your small shared home with more force.

“Why must you make fun of me like this?” You grumbled into his soft shirt. “Can’t you see that I’m–”

“Scared?” That interruption did force you to look up at him with a slight pout. Jutting out your bottom lip in protest of the accusation. “Are you finally gonna admit it darling?”

“NO! I’m not scared. I do not have a fear of stormy weather. I just…I can do without it sometimes.” Your head rested once again on Childe’s chest as he lovingly rubbed your back. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your stubbornness. It was one of your flaws yes, but it was something that could be very endearing at times. Times like now for instance. He let the conversation die with a Whatever you say lovely as you both enjoyed the rest of the evening together.

About two weeks later, Childe told you that he was going to be on assignment for a week, no more than two, and would be gone for a while. He hated to leave your side, not just because he missed you but because he was concerned for your well-being at times as well. He knew Zhongli, Hu Tao and even the little cook from the Wanmin Restaurant would keep an eye on you for him. They loved you almost as much as he did so he knew that you were in good hands while you were gone. So, you gave him a kiss goodbye the early morning he left.

The daily routine you had proceeded without a hitch while Childe was away. A few new things happened here and there like Xiangling asking you to help her with a new dish or Yun Jin asking for your opinion on a new piece she has but other than that, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. About a week and a half into Childe’s departure you were stopped by Lan near the Guild. You finished up a commission with Zhongli (he had graciously accompanied you on this job because it involved some fighting that you were subpar at and you wanted the Mora) and went to claim your pay when she pulled you aside for a moment.

“You live up near the pass, correct? In that small housing area?”

“Yes, why? Is something wrong, is someone looking for a place to stay?”

“No it’s not that, it’s just I heard a few things about the area.”

“What kind of things?” Zhongli inquired.

“People were saying that Treasure Hoarders were seen setting up camps. Apparently, some hotshot bragged about the area being a good place for loot and they just seemed to flock there. Now normally it’s not that big a deal, but with the weather recently and with how big this rumor is, the Hoarders sometimes get…aggressive with people.”

At that you furrowed your brow, “Aggressive how?”

“They seem to think that because we’re locals we must know about this fabulous treasure, yet no matter how many times people explain that it doesn’t exist, they don’t believe us. Sometimes they get violent and a few people have gotten hurt. One person even reported that when the weather got bad, a group tried to break into their home for shelter. Luckily their dog was able to scare them off.”

“That’s awful, are the Millelith aware of the situation.” Zhongli asked, growing more concerned by the minute.

“They are, however, the housing area is a bit ways away, so they only send a few guards at a time. I have spoken to one who would report back to Liyue Qixing about sending more but that was only recent so I can’t give a date as to when they will be posted. Even the Traveler said she would sweep the area when she could to get rid of them but despite her great feats, she still is just one person.” The clouds overhead began to darken and you could feel the faintest drops begin to fall. It was about time you got home.

Lan noticed your distraught expression, “I promise I didn’t bring this up to scare you. I just thought you should be made aware of the situation.”

“Huh?” Was all you could manage.

“Your face, you look frightened to death.” Your head looked up at the clouds again as the sprinkle began.

“I’m not scared.” Was what you mustered as you thanked Lan and made your way home.

Zhongli, ever the gentleman and protector, walked you the entire way and even offered to stay the night just to keep watch. You politely declined the offer. The couch was not very big and you only had one bed in your cozy home so you wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable all night. Not sure if you were aware of it but the look in your eyes seemed to only grow more fearful as the rain got louder. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew to respect yours (and he’s sure Childe’s) wishes and left you with a good night for the evening.

Alone with your thoughts, you did your best to just go to bed. Not even bothering to eat, you thought that maybe you could sleep through the coming storm. As fast as you could you changed into one of Childe’s shirts, got under the covers and held his pillow to your chest for comfort.

Your plan seemed to almost work, key word almost. In the middle of the night a loud crash startled you awake with a scream. Catching your breath, you begrudgingly got out of bed to check what happened but then you remembered.

The Treasure Hoarders.

Suddenly the bedroom didn't seem like a bad place to be. Maybe if you just laid down in bed you could pretend that you were asleep and didn't hear anything. When you turned from the door a boom of thunder broke through and you jumped nearly screaming. There was no way you would be able to stay quiet. It was stupid but you wanted to do something.

It wasn't much but you knew that Childe kept a small dagger in his nightstand. You grabbed it and with a shaking hand slowly opened your bedroom door. The rain was pounding against your little house as you walked down the hall to the living area. Every floorboard creak and noise of the house settling made you want to scream. Every now and then, a flash of lightning would illuminate the hall and you swore it never felt this long before.

Finally, you made it to a point where you could tilt your head to look into the living room. You held the dagger close as you continued in, keeping low just in case. That's when you saw the broken window and blowing curtains. And even worse you could hear men talking outside. That's when the panic truly set in and you had no idea what to do. Not being a fighter you thought your best bet would be to run and hide. Or you could take a chance to escape and find Zhongli, Hu Tao, anyone to help you. But the idea of going outside in the rain frightened you just as much.

Damn it you were scared, so scared that you didn't have time to make a decision, for you could hear the turning of a locked doorknob and a frustrated groan. With a gasp you fell to the floor careful not to cut yourself on the dagger. You hid to the side of the couch trying to control your heavy breathing.

"Wha'do I do? Wha'do I do? Wha'do I do?" And the door opened. It closed and heavy footsteps made their way into your house. You held a hand over your nout knowing you had fight off whoever just entered your home. The thunder grew louder and louder in your ears, tears streamed down your face, as you tried to steel your nerves. You waited until a faint, moonlit shadow was near your position and with a spark of lightning rose with a petrified scream and brought your dagger down on the intruder.

Only this person caught your wrist with ease and grabbed your other wrist easily. You flailed and screamed.

"LET ME GO!"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Darling it's me!"

A pause. You took a moment to catch your breath and in the flash again you saw that Childe had returned home. Your breath released and you dropped the dagger while also falling into his familiar warmth and scent. He didn't ask any questions, just held you as you cried.

"Treasure Hoarders a-a-and thunder. They broke into people's…and the window." You picked up your head to point at the broken window. Childe let you go just to turn on the light and check. Near the broken glass was a large branch. The wind must have been strong enough to toss it into the window. Childe held up the branch to show you but quickly placed it down when you shook your head.

"But I heard voices outside."

Knowing that he returned alone, he quickly rushed out the front door to see if anyone was out. You remained on the floor with knees held against your chest and gripping Childe's shirt.

"There's no one outside."

"I could have sworn- gods am I going insane!"

"No darling no, you're not." Childe went to you and held you where you sat, he lifted you up just a bit to have a better hold on you. Your body was shaking from the torment you put yourself through. He spoke soft words to you as you calmed down he held you in his lap, rocking you both back and forth to calm you down. Despite being in the rain, he was so warm. It was a warmth that you took so much comfort in.

"Ajax," you whispered, "I was so scared. There's been sightings of Hoarders and they've been getting violent. And this damn thunder. I heard the window break." You spoke in-between shaken breaths. "When I heard the door open I thought someone-" That's when it hit you, had someone truly broken into your home, what would have happened?

He saw your mind spinning, so Childe made you face him and held your face in his hands. "Okay my love, just a second okay. I want you to take a deep breath. Can you do that for me beautiful?" You nodded and did as you were told, "Alright, now whistle." You whistled as you released. "Good girl. A few more times." You repeated the process for about a minute, this allowed your crying to stop for the most part and calmed your breathing.

"Feel better?" He asked in a soft voice he only used around you.

"Yes. Ajax. I was so scared." You repeated it. You had to, you didn't know what else to say.

"I know love and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you. I'm right here baby, nothing is going to happen to you I promise. And here I thought coming home early would make you cry tears of joy." He kissed your forehead when you finally let out a small scoof and a smile. "I promise nothing will happen to you. I'll put better windows and a good lock on the door. You can even have Hu Tao and Xiangling over if you want to, I know they love you." He kissed your lips as you nodded. His kiss told you that this would not happen again if he could help it. "I don't ever want to see you like this again." It was a promise he spoke into your neck and his breath danced in your skin and made you shiver.

A clap of thunder had you jump in his arms and he held you close. "Next time I'm in Inazuma I'm going to beat up that Shogun." He picked you up bridal style and went to the bedroom. As he laid you down, he gave you another kiss. He left the room and patched up the window. Upon return, he got comfortable in some lounge pants and no shirt and got under the covers. Bringing you into his chest, he placed his hand on your lower back to rub small, comforting circles on your skin. You held him close and relished the way he felt against you.

"She would kick your ass."

"Huh?"

"The Shogun. If you tried to fight her, she'd kick your ass."

All Childe could do was chuckle as you both fell asleep.

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