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bibbykins · 3 years

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Insufferable

A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!

Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one

Word count: 3.6k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.

Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too

There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.

You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.

Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.

You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.

Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.

Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.

Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.

“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”

“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?

You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”

“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”

Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.

“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”

“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.

“No, but I know how you look naked-”

“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.

“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.

“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.

“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”

“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.

You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-

You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.

Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-

“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.

Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?

You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.

You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.

The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.

“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.

He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.

You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.

“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”

“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.

“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.

You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.

Old habits die hard.

Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.

The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.

Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.

You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.

“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.

You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?

Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.

You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.

He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.

I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.

I’m so tired.

-Mom

Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.

“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.

“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”

He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.

No thanks to him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”

“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.

“Wh-”

He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.

However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.

"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.

You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”

Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.

He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.

His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.

He froze.

Fuck, what food do you like?

He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.

Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.

Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.

He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.

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#yandere bts #soft yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts series #yandere jungkook #bts angst #bts fluff #poly bts au

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qyllenhaal · 3 years

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❛ Bunny ❜

Series: The Devil I Know

Senator!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k~

Summary: Reader Surprises Chris on their week long vacation together with something that he's been begging for for a long time

warnings: 18+ only!!! Unprotected sex, daddy kink, dom/sub elements, roleplay, creampie, breeding kink, cumplay, age gap (reader is in her late 20s)

A/N: I'm hoping to start taking requests soon! I've been so busy with life that my ideas for this series are drying up.

Enjoy!

Y/n would be a damn liar if she said she wasn't turned on by the roleplay idea that Chris brought to her and the way he kept calling her his "bunny." She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes at first, it just sounded so ridiculous to her, but the more she thought about it. the easier it became to envision it happening.

Her in a Playboy bunny costume sounded so basic to her, but the excitement in Chris's eyes showed that it meant something to him.

She felt guilty as he explained how boring his sex life was before meeting her. He was trying to make her feel better about the idea, and feel a sense of pride, instead she felt loathsome. She wasn't able to determine if she felt more sorry for him or his wife. Their marriage was dying anyway and was going to die whether or not Y/n was in the picture, but she still felt awful about being the final death blow to their multi-decade marriage. He wanted to take her up to his father's cabin up north while his wife stayed home? It sounded good in theory but something about it made it hard for her to say yes.

"C'mon, you deserve a break. You've been working your ass off to get Withers primaried and you actually have a chance of unseating him. Don't you think you should relax? You work so hard all the time honey."

It was all too enticing to say no; to be whisked away from an entire week and ravished by her lover.

"There she is," he teased when he saw that smile forming on her face, "I knew you'd come around to it. I'm going to make sure you don't lift a finger, and you get to taste my famous ceviche."

He kissed her cheek and let her get back to work before she could come up with a reason that causes her to change her mind.

Y/n kept her excitement to herself but she was over the moon. Once she let the guilt simmer, she began to fantasize about the possibilities of an entire week of having Chris all to herself without interruption. They'll be able to act like a normal couple if only for a week.

She got herself through two weeks of more tough work, but it was fulfilling to know that she was succeeding in her work, and that she had a trip with Chris on the horizon.

He hadn't brought up his little idea since she'd agreed to go on the trip. It seems as if he forgot all about it as his shock that she said yes had consumed his thoughts. Y/n couldn't let it go though. She couldn't stop thinking about it now that they were going to be gone for an entire week. She could wear that little get up for days and give him a sight that's going to be etched into his brain until the day he dies. Y/n loves that she has that effect over him; the ability to make his heart race and his cock hard with just a simple look.

It was not a cheap costume to buy because she didn't just want to buy any regular costume that could be bought at party city. No, she wanted something that was better quality and could endure Chris attempting to tear it off her body. She paid extra for the shipping so she had it in time.

When it was finally in her possession, she stared at it in awe. She was tempted to put it on, to see how she looked in it, but she wanted it to be a surprise for both herself and Chris. The material it was made of felt nice; the entire costume looked like it could've been owned by a real playmate. It wasn't often that Y/n felt overwhelmingly sexy, but she did just simply staring at the costume in its precious box. Chris was up in age, she hoped he didn't have a heart attack.

"It's so beautiful up here."

When Chris said a cabin up north, she didn't think all the way up north in Maine. But it was perfect. Only two weeks into fall but the trees were filled with vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves.

The cabin was near a river that held the reflection of the trees. It seemed as if it had gone untouched for years, but it was filled with pictures. Y/n could pick out the face of a younger Chris in some of the photos, but everyone else was unrecognizable.

"That's my grandfather," he interrupted her thoughts when he caught her lingering on a particular picture.

She glanced at him before bringing her eyes back down to the image again. "You look so much like him," her fingers skirted across the glass. She felt a weird pang of longing hit her in the stomach. It's as if Chris wasn't just a few feet away from her. Maybe what she felt inside was shame disguised as something else.

"C'mon," he grabbed the framed picture from her hand and placed it back where she found it, "I wanna show you something."

Y/n trailed behind him, her hand in his, as he guided her through the house and up the stairs.

Chris led her upstairs and to another set of stairs. He took her to a dusty attic which somewhat confused her. Then grabbed a box that looked older than her.

"Remember that time you tried to show me that constellation...what was it...Be- Belt- B-"

"Betelgeuse."

"Yea that was the one," he took the top off of the box and she peered into it, "now you can show me other star thingys in the sky."

She laughed but wrapped her arms around his neck. It was an unsuspecting gesture from him, but she welcomed it nonetheless. He could get really sentimental at times and it would just make it harder on her that she couldn't publicly love on him.

"It's great Chris. Let's just hope the skies are clear one of these nights."

He smiled and kissed her cheek for the nth time today.

"Alright. I'm gonna go get started on my famous ceviche. You enjoy yourself however you want. Walk around, explore the place," he stroked her cheek before leaving her alone to go get started on dinner for the two of them.

It had been a long day of driving and all Y/n wanted to do was go to sleep, but something was buzzing inside of her. She hated that Chris's dinner and "famous ceviche" was probably going to go to waste because if her plan works successfully then he isn't going to give a damn about dinner.

Y/n made sure she packed the box holding the costume at the very bottom of her suitcase. She held her breath as she held it up in the air and stared at it. She's sure that she could wear a garbage bag and Chris would still want to fuck her but she couldn't stop herself from being so nervous about putting it on.

She did it anyway and was relieved when what she saw in the mirror looking back at her wasn't so bad. In fact, she looked sexy. The look was complete with the bunny ears and bowtie. She wore a simple lipstick, one that was going to be smeared later on, paired with coats of mascara. At the end of night Y/n wanted to see the proof of his handiwork.

Even though she knew he wanted this, she was nervous about how he'd feel about her "act". She's been deliberating for a week whether or not she should go all the way with the fantasy but why not? Chris deserved it after convincing her to come on this trip. Besides, he works hard too.

"Hun, the food is ready!"

A few seconds of silence didn't make him flinch, but after a few more minutes passed and he didn't hear footsteps coming down the stairs, he was confused. Another call of her name resulted in nothing but silence; she didn't even respond to "Button."

She could be asleep, he thought, but he was still curious. If she was then he could at least catch a glimpse of her sleeping peacefully, put the food away, and then come join her.

"Y/n?" His voice got softer as he approached their bedroom. It was cracked enough for him to see that the light was on. He pushed it open and there his girl was. On the bed and dressed like she stepped out of his dreams.

"What is this?" His laughter was mixed with interest and disbelief. Just some time ago she was vehemently saying "no!" regarding his idea and now she was dressed like a Playboy bunny.

"Do you like it, daddy? I got it just for you."

Chris felt himself hardening in his jeans. Sheer tights stretched over her thighs and he just wanted to rip it off her body. She looked good enough to ruin.

"Of course I like it Button," he cooed as he approached her waiting body on the bed. He touched the material of her outfit still in a state of disbelief. This was his ultimate fantasy.

"I'm glad you like it. I did it just for you daddy," her voice was soft, girlish, and coquettish as she palmed his cock through his jeans. He swears he could cum just from this if she kept it up. He grabbed her hand to stop her.

"You're a naughty little bunny, aren't you?"

"Nooo daddy I've been good," she inched herself backwards on the bed before slowly turning onto her stomach all the while keeping eye contact with him, "I've been a good girl."

"I suppose you have," he didn't even try to argue against her claims. That pout on her lips made him incredibly harder.

Chris ran his hands over her ass and she mewled softly at his warm, strong hands on her. Y/n closed her eyes, a cocky smile on her lips knowing that she probably turned his brain into mush. She pushed her ass into his touch for more.

"The things I want to do to you..."

"Tell me daddy. What do you want to do to me?"

"Uh uh, you don't go demanding things around here. You've been a good girl, but I can easily change my mind. I can make you take my fingers and edge you while you wish it was my big cock splitting you open, but I don't think my bunny wants that."

She pouted and pressed her face into the bed. Chris chuckled at how easily her demeanor changed. He put his knees on either side of her legs and grabbed her hips to drag her ass to his pelvis. She gasped at the swift movement whimpered when he started to mime fucking her.

"Oh baby you look so good like this. I don't know if I want to keep you all pretty and in this costume while I fuck you, or take it off of you and ruin that cute little face of yours."

He had plans to do both, but he liked to hear her whimper when he told her about the utter filthy things he was going to do to her. If she thought he was going to rip it off of her without savoring how good she looks then she's wrong.

He's so grateful that he packed that polaroid Y/n gave to him as a birthday gift. It was how he got around her "no pictures" rule. She never let him take pictures of her, not even on the second phone he bought just to contact her. How could he not document how she looks after cumming hard for him? Or when he leaves a trail of white all across her bare chest? He often had to rely on his memory, but he planned on this trip being different.

"Stay just like that Bun."

Y/n broke her character for a little bit, rolling her eyes and relaxing her arched back when he left the room. Sometimes he did little things that annoyed her, but the way she jumped back into her character when she heard him come back showed her that the annoyance was just a façade.

"So perfect," the camera's shutter fired and the camera spit out the first ever photo he has taken of her.

Y/n wanted to protest against him, but she stayed silent. It wouldn't hurt to have a few polaroid's as keepsakes; she even looked back at him and made eyes at the camera.

Chris could spend all day photographing her, but the strain in his pants was becoming too painful. He placed the camera down and stood at the edge of the bed.

"Come put that pretty little mouth of yours to use."

Y/n hopped up from her position and found herself on the floor in between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. She clumsily fumbled with his belt and fastener on his pants. "Eager little bunny, slow down a bit," he taunted.

She tried to listen, but she's desperate to get him in her mouth. His hard cock springs out from its restraint and almost hits her cheek. She gasps lovingly at the pre-cum seeping from his blunt head. She wanted to taste it, but she didn't do it without Daddy's permission. Instead she wrapped her hand around his length and squeezed him.

Chris watched her stare at his cock in awe, like she wasn't already familiar with it. She gave him a few languid pumps and he sighed at her soft touch. He thought about how beautiful it would be to paint his cum across her breast. She looked like an absolute sex-pot; it was hard for him to control himself.

"That feels so good, bunny. You're such a good girl — keep pumping me...a little faster bun... good girl," his praising voice was as smooth as a cat's purr. Y/n felt the presence of her arousal when her sex pressed against the material of her costume.

The pre-cum oozing from his tip made her mouth water. He didn't instruct her to do anything further, but she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her lips around his length. He didn't seem to have a problem with it either because he sighed and pushed her mouth further down on his cock.

"You're so beautiful like this bunny...my precious girl," he cooed between breaths.

Her mouth felt like heaven, her warm tongue laving him with saliva and washing pleasure over him. He felt the muscles in his lower abdomen spasming as she sucked on him faster and feverishly. The concentration on her face was so cute to him, but greatly juxtaposed by the light makeup that was beginning to smudge on her face.

His cock hit the back of her throat and she gagged on him. Y/n tried to pull herself off, but he kept her still, forcing her to relax her throat while he filled her mouth.

"That's it girl — fuck — you're going to make me cum. Is that what you want? Me to cum down that pretty throat of yours?"

Y/n tried to shake her head no and say out loud, but she was muffled by his cock. She loves to watch him jerk over her tongue or other parts of body until he cums, but she wanted him to cum while he was fucking her; he could always paint her tits later.

"You don't want me to cum down your throat bunny? Where do you want me to cum?"

Chris knew she was unable to answer, but that was apart of the thrill. His ego was through the roof and the sense of power he felt because of this was astounding. She made him feel so many things at once, but all he was concerned with now is seeing her body shiver with pleasure.

He let go of his physical grip on her and she took the opportunity to come up from her. Her lips were pink and there was a line of saliva collecting her mouth to his cock.

"Look at you, so pretty," he petted her as he stared into her eyes that held a glossy look of desire for him and him only, "get on the bed bunny."

He wanted to worship her. He wanted to make her cum over and over again until his name was the only thing left on the tip of her tongue. As she laid out on the bed for him, in a costume just for him, he wondered how he got so lucky with her. They were so different, but they were somehow meant for each other.

"You're so gorgeous," his hands glided down her stocking-covered thighs. He squeezed her flesh and he groaned as if he could feel what he was doing to her. She made him dizzy just from how beautiful she was.

Y/n's body anticipated every stroke of his hands on her body. He didn't leave an inch of her exposed skin untouched. He touched and looked at her like she might disappear at any moment. It was his mission to memorize how her body feels under his touch.

"Daddy," she whined, not being able to stand to ache between her legs anymore. She isn't sure what she wanted him to do, she just wanted him to do something.

"Be patient, sweet thing. Let me take in how beautiful my little bunny looks."

"You like when I dress up for you, daddy?" She further parted her legs as a suggestion for him to place himself between her legs. Chris picked up on what she was doing, but he didn't follow through.

"My perfect little bunny," his voice trailed off as he palmed her breast through the costume.

Y/n moaned and arched into his touch. It wasn't long before he was pawing at the top of the costume to free her breast. The costume was tight against her body, but he managed to get what he wanted. He cupped her tits before he leaned down to wrap his lip around her nipple. His thumb teased the other one, stroking it to life. Her delightful sighs sounded heavenly.

"Feels so good," Y/n whined. She tried to grind against him in desperation but he wasn't having any of it. More of his weight was pressed against her to keep her still. He switched over to sucking on her other nipple. His eyes met hers before lightly closing from the feeling of ecstasy.

The mess that was forming between her legs was becoming unbearable. Y/n knew for a fact that she soaked through her costume and with just one swipe of his hand, Chris would be able to feel it. She didn't say anything but she was just so impatient and wanted him to give the same attention to her sex. But he wanted to savor her in this costume before he takes it off of her and just fucks her in the bunny ears.

"This body is so perfect."

As his hands slowly slid across her stomach, the cogs began to turn in her head; she wanted this night to fulfill all of his fantasies.

After taking his sweet time with her body, Chris was finally getting her out of the costume. It won't be the last time she wears it this week, but it was bittersweet to see her out of. However her body alone was driving him wild. She still had the bunny ears on which made her look incredibly cute.

"My lil' Bunny has been so patient for me," he kissed her cheek before moving to kiss the front of her throat, "I'm gonna reward that pretty pussy of yours."

Y/n felt the lust boiling over as Chris moved down her body and his was finally home between her legs. "You got so wet for me bun," he taunted her. His fingers prodded at her slit but didn't push in all the way like she needed. It was torturous to tease her when she had been such an obedient girl for him.

He didn't keep her waiting for long. His tongue was diving through her silky folds to get a good taste of her.

"Undress daddy, baby."

The gruff of his voice made her feel even wetter. She often teased him for being so much older than her but oh did she love all the psychical manifestations of his age. The grey in his hair drove her wild, and she loved how grey his beard was whenever he grew it out.

She grabbed at his soft cotton t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The light dusting of grey hair on his chest tickled her fingertips. She couldn't stop herself when she leaned in to nip at his collar bone. Her lips were so sweet on his body making his head spin. She started tugging at his pants while her lips were still on his skin. He did most of the work, but he didn't care, he just needed to be freed of his restricting clothes.

Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock and gently pumped him.

Chris sighed into her ear, "wanna cum on my tongue or my cock bunny?"

"Your cock daddy! Bunny needs your cream inside of her," she whined.

He thought about fucking her the entire drive; his mind thinking of all the things they could do alone, but he never thought he be blessed with this.

"My little bunny wants my cock? You want to get on all fours and show me how dripping you are?"

Y/n nodded her head, eyes wide with lust and her bottom lip slightly poking out.

"Good girl. Show daddy just how pretty you are."

She moved from his arms and laid her head against the bed as her ass stuck in the air. Chris got off the bed and stood against the very edge. His strong hands laid gently against her ass and he pulled her puffy lips apart with his fingers.

"Fuck girl," he groaned, unable to contain the desire he felt," you're dripping. You're dripping for daddy, aren't you? I thought you were a good little bunny, but only slutty bunnies get this wet."

Her body tensed when his left thumb dragged against her clit. It was swollen and so sensitive to his touch.

Chris's cock was hard and ready to be inside of her warm silk. He had brought the condoms that felt like nothing along with him; two boxes since they were going to be together for six more days.

She heard him tearing something up, but she looked back at him and reached up at him.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" He furrowed his brow but still held the half ripped condom wrapper in his hand.

"No condom daddy. I want to feel all of you."

He groaned and he felt his cock become impossibly harder. They had gone back to condoms because Y/n said stopped taking her birth control when she stopped speaking to him, believing that they were possibly going to stop this relationship. She also said she was going to start again, but he just could not remember if she said her doctors appointment was happening this month or next month.

"Are you on the pill?" His tone had a hint of excitement to it, but ultimately he was concerned; she was always strict about protection.

"I don't know," she said feigning innocence, batting her lashes at him and wiggling her hips in anticipation for his cock. This little character she decided to adapt was driving him crazy.

"Don't lie to me girl," he gripped her arm and she whimpered. His rough handling of her had made her even wetter.

"I'm not! I really don't know daddy!"

She knew, and he knows that she does, but he was too weak by the sight of her bent over in her little bunny ears with her wet cunt exposed to him. Her ass began to sway from side to side, calling him to come closer. But what she wanted him to made him think to himself: 'is she fucking crazy?'

"I need you so bad daddy. Please ruin your little bunny," her voice was sweet as candy.

Chris always wanted her but something about this unlocked a deep hunger inside of him. The risk of this made his heart race and sweat form on his skin, but he wanted this just as bad as she did.

"Baby," he placed a hand around his cock to help guide it inside of her, "I'm gonna ruin this pretty fucking body of yours."

He fully sheathed himself inside of her and Y/n sighed with tenderness. The small touch of his hand on her lower back felt so incredibly intimate and she was grateful that he convinced her to come on this trip.

"You feel so fucking good girl," he pulled out just a few inches only to push back in, "I'm going to fill you up. Is that what you want, pretty baby?"

Y/n is unsure what is more taunting: the tone of his voice or his increasing pace. Both of his hands now grabbed her hips and she swooned over how large they felt holding her. He dragged her back onto his cock until he was nearly pounding her. Each thrust was ruining her softly.

His thrust became more wild as he felt her walls grip his entire length. She felt so warm and wet around him. He missed being bare inside of her, feeling her entirety from the inside.

Soon her little bunny ears were falling off of her head as he fucked her hard. There was something so intoxicating about ruining everything that's so perfect about her. He loved that she gave him permission to do so too.

"Look at me," he said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her arm and forced it against her back. Y/n twisted her upper half to look up at him. She placed her hand on top of his for a glimmer of intimacy in this moment of nasty brutal fucking.

"I'm gonna pump you full of me, bunny. Good girls get all my cum."

Every time he slid home inside of her, stretching her completely, she cried out louder. Her thighs trembled and shook with each thrust into her. He was fucking so hard it was almost mindblowing. She always teased him for being an "old man" but he was proving that his age didn't hinder him from pounding into her.

He was getting closer and closer to slipping over the edge. She just feels so warm and tight around him, her contracting walls inviting him to cum inside of her. He loved being able to see her face as she hit every spot inside of her that made her toes curl.

"I feel that pussy tightening up," he spoke breathlessly. He tried to concentrate on his words but her wet cunt rendered him speechless. "Cum for me bunny."

Y/n began to meet his thrust. Lust bloomed in her stomach when she imagined feeling him empty inside of her. They were so incredibly close and if they kept this up they could cum together.

"Give it to me daddy" she whispered, staring back at his face, "please cum inside of me...I've been such a good girl...I need it so bad."

Chris's thrust got sloppy as the muscles in his lower abdomen began to spasm. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Y/n started cumming around his cock and her pussy tightening up hugged his cock and milked him. "Fuck!" He grunted loudly as he fucked the both of them through their orgasms.

Despite her body being too hypersensitive to take anymore, she whimpered when he pulled out of her.

"Keep that ass up in the air."

Chris grabbed her ass cheeks to spread her open. "Push it out for me bunny." His cum came seeping out of her hole and slid through her folds. He spread it around her sex with two fingers before pushing it back into her hole. She gasped when she felt him slide back into her. Her walls clenched around his fingers, still hungry for more. He wanted to fuck her again, but he was too tired to go again.

"You're going to wear me out girl," he joked, laying next to her on the bed. She looked just as tired as him but that look in her eye indicated that she was completely satisfied.

"It's been a long time since you've fucked me like that. I think I should wear that costume more often."

He placed his palm against her face and she leaned into like she always did. She closed her eyes and felt lulled by the sound of his now steady breathing. This moment together felt like it could last a lifetime. Y/n wishes that they could just stay here forever instead of a week. If she never had to think about an empty promise ever again, she'd be content for the rest of her days.

#chris evans x reader #senator!chris #senator!chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x y/n #senator!chris evans #smut #tdik series #fic #chris evans

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reidingmelodies · 3 years

Text

His God-Given Solace (Part II)

Summary: Derek and Penelope are determined to make you and Spencer realize your feelings- turns out, they’re a bit behind.

Genre: Fluff Word Count: 4.1K Pairings: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader; Penelope Garcia x Derek Morgan Includes: Kissing, Light Mentions of Food/ Alcohol, Brief Mention of Injury A/N: Thanks for all the love on part one, ily all tons ♡

Something was different. It was obvious in the way Spencer’s cheeks no longer matched the color of rubies when your name was mentioned. It was especially prevalent in the way you no longer fought Penelope when she claimed you were in love with Boy Wonder, instead opting to shrug and walk away with a ‘whatever you say, Pen’ thrown in her direction.

Thinking back on it now, Penelope couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you had interacted during work hours unless it was for a case. Her and Derek had been working overtime at getting the two of you together for the past few months, but as far as she could tell the only thing they’d done was pull you both apart.

***

Four Months Ago:

“We need to do something, Der! You should’ve seen Y/N when I mentioned her having feelings for Spencer this morning- it was so obvious” Penelope’s voice was hushed, eyes steadily fixed on the doorway as Derek sighed and rested his palm on her shoulder.

“I know,” he murmured, fingers steadily tracing patterns over the wool of her cardigan, “Reid was the same way. I don’t know what else we can do besides let them figure it out themselves though”.

A twinkle made its way to Penelope’s eye, mind already swirling with the ways she could prematurely force the two of you to admit your love.

With a raise of her brow she stood, fingers moving to dance along the edge of her lover’s jawline “Are you doubting my skills, Derek Morgan?”

His heart skipped a beat, putting a silent prayer of thanks into the universe for blessing him with the goddess that is Penelope Garcia. “Never, baby girl”, he let out in a gentle murmur, sealing his affirmation with a series of light kisses against her fingertips.

She beamed, pulling her fingers from his lips and instead using them to clutch the warm fabric of his collar and effectively bringing his lips closer to hers. She sealed the gap between their lips with bated breath, feeling time stop as she relished in the feel of his lips much like it did the first time they shared a kiss, and with each of the infinite amount of kisses they’ve shared since.

His left hand found purchase in the strands of her hair, his right swiftly moving to pull her hips flush against his. As a slight gasp left her lips he inwardly shivered, mind quickly moving to contemplate the chances of them losing their jobs for initiating some very not safe for work behavior. Luckily for both of them (because there was no way they were going to stop on their own accord), the clearing of a throat in the doorway snapped them both out of their reverie.

Their lips separated with the force of two opposing forces, bodies moving to leave a foot of space in between as they laid eyes on their intruder. Spencer was leaning against the doorway, shrinking into himself as his eyes roamed the room and a rosy-red hue made its way up his neck.

He cleared his throat, sparing a glance at the couple on the opposite side of the room. “I- I um- I hate to break up this love fest... but we’ve got a case”. With that, he turned on his heel and made his way to the conference room as fast as his feet would carry him.

Derek and Penelope swiftly followed in silence, but not without sharing a grin behind their friend’s back.

And as the two of them sat around the round table waiting for Hotch to begin the briefing they couldn’t help but notice the way you and Spencer gravitated towards one another. Your body found home in the seat next to his, both of your torsos twisted to face the other as he whispered something in your direction, no doubt regaling his tale of the compromising position he had found Derek and Penelope in.

You stifled your laugh under your hand, his lips twisting into a smile as a result of your happiness. The love was ever prevalent between the two of you, and as Derek and Penelope locked eyes a silent conversation took place between the pair: Let’s do this.

The days that followed found the team in Boston, the nights bleeding into mornings as the team was entirely buried in a case. On day six, the capture of the unsub as well as the saving of three hostages left the team in a state of bliss that Penelope took full advantage of in the hours before her family arrived home, busying herself with plans to unite the most stubborn people she knows.

And later that night, as she found herself cuddled into Derek’s side enthusiastically catching him up to speed on her ideas, a plan was officially put into action.

***

Three Months Ago:

“Hello my loves!” Penelope’s vivacious voice carried through the bullpen, her hands coming to rest on the back of the chairs you and Spencer were currently lounging on.

You glanced up at her, a smile immediately breaking out on your face as you took in the charismatic expression on her face.

“Hey Pen!” you whirled around in your chair, swiveling to face her as Spencer did the same.

“What are you two up to tonight, say around 7 or so?” She questioned you both, inquisitively observing the way Spencer’s eyes immediately gravitated to yours as if the answer to all of life’s mysteries laid in your hands.

Your eyes found his, and as the seconds passed Penelope felt as though she was intruding on a silent conversation. She watched as his eyebrows rose in your direction, your head slightly nodding in response and the smallest of smiles gracing both of your features.

“I’m free, so whatever you’re planning I’m in,” you declared with a smile and Spencer’s nod of agreement followed, albeit much more hesitant than your own.

The desire to ask about whatever it was that just transpired between the two of you was strong, but she and Derek had agreed that they’d be in charge of situation making but leave the actual falling in love part to the two of you.

She was definitely regretting that choice now.

“Great!” She started, placing her hand on her heart and leaning in close to her favorite lovebirds, “because Derek and I are going to see a movie tonight and I just know you’ll both love it!”

Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked up at her, “What movie is it? If it’s the new sci-fi about the explorations of space then you’re definitely right. Did you know that they based the entire premises of the movie on Explorer 1?”

“I didn’t know that Boy Genius, but what I do know is you’re gonna have a great time tonight even though that’s not the movie we’re seeing,” on that note she left the pair to her own devices, but not before hearing you tell Spencer that the movie he was talking about seemed interesting and you should definitely go see it together (but not without teaching you about Explorer 1 first).

Yeah. You were definitely in love with him.

***

The movie was the definition of awful. The acting was brutal, the plot made no sense, and Penelope couldn’t believe this was the number one romance movie in the country.

What wasn’t awful though? Watching yours and Spencer’s romance come to life two seats down from her.

Penelope’s fingers were intertwined with Derek’s, his thumb tracing patterns against her skin. She nuzzled her head in the space between his neck and shoulder, laying a kiss on the fabric of his shirt as she twisted her body towards his, eyes drifting towards her favorite couple-to-be on the other side of him.

“As much as I wish this cuddle was just for me, baby,” Derek mumbled against her hair, “you’re using me to take a peek at Pretty Boy and his Pretty Girl aren’t you?”

She let out a noise of affirmation, lifting her head for a slight second to peck his lips before returning to the warmth that seemed to always radiate from his body. “Mmm-hmm and it’s working. Now let me spy in peace”.

Derek chuckled, taking a moment to look at you and Spencer from his vantage point. Spencer was sitting to the right of him, a container of popcorn settled on his lap. Every now and then your fingers would inch towards the bucket to grab a few pieces of your own, but not without brushing against his arm each time.

Derek watched as Spencer’s cheeks flushed each time your skin made contact with his, each flush accompanied by the brightest smile he’d ever seen on his friend’s face. He watched as you stole a glance up at Spencer whenever you thought he wasn’t looking, your lips slightly parted as you admired his soft features.

And later that night, when he and Penelope were lightly swinging their joined hands and observing the two of you from a short distance?

The mumbled conversations about space and the lingering glances between the two of you left one thing for certain in the couple’s eyes- you were definitely in love.

***

Two Months Ago:

“So, I was thinking we can have the team over for board game night,” Penelope’s voice rang from the bathroom as Derek got settled into their bed.

He shook his head, knowing exactly where his girlfriend was going with this, “and by the team you mean Reid and Y/N, right?”

Her melodic laugh met his ears, and he knew then and there that he got it right in one shot. He watched as she made her way into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of their bed to brush her hair.

She turned to look at him, letting out a brief sigh. “I thought they’d be together by now, I don’t know what they’re waiting for! But last time we said anything they were all weird about it and just- ugh!” Her head fell back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her torso and laid a brief kiss on her head.

“As much as I love those two, I’d rather we didn’t talk about them in our bedroom, babe,” he smiled as she turned in his arms, her face moving until it was within an inch of his own.

His lips puckered, eyes slightly closing as he felt her warm breath fan over his mouth. As her lips brushed against his own he moved his hand to grasp her cheek, but when deepened the kiss she pulled back until her lips were just out of reach of his.

“Does this mean we can host game night on Friday?” she asked in the most innocent voice she could muster, lightly drawing her fingers down his side until he flipped them over, leaving his figure looming over hers.

“We can do whatever you want Baby Girl- just kiss me already,” he let out with a groan. And, well, who was Penelope to turn down a request like that?

***

Friday night came, and Derek found himself sitting between Penelope and JJ on the sofa, his gaze steady on your figure as you wiped away tears of laughter from the corner of your eyes. Spencer was jumping up and down, trying to give you all as many hints as he could at his word, but so far all he was doing was creating the perfect ammo for future blackmail attempts.

“Spence, what are you even doing?” JJ laughed from her spot next to Derek, falling into Emily’s arm that rested on the edge of the sofa as the two let their screeches of joy reverberate off the apartment walls.

Derek joined in, letting out a chuckle of his own. “Are you supposed to be a kangaroo or something?”

He watched as Spencer’s cheeks began to brighten, his jump faltering and his arms beginning to rise as he tried to think of another way to get his point across.

Turns out, there wasn’t a need as you leaned back from your spot on the floor and gently shoved Derek’s knee. He playfully scoffed, meeting your eyes as you glanced up at him. “Alright, Y/N, what do you think he’s doing then?”

A widespread grin made its way to your face and you tilted your head to lock eyes with Spencer. “Easy,” you proclaimed, “he’s pretending he’s in a mosh pit”.

A breathless “what?” left Emily’s lips at that, and even Hotch looked at you in confusion at your guess.

“Kid, I doubt that’s what he was doing,” Rossi started to let you down gently, only to have Spencer triumphantly place a piece of paper in his hand, the words mosh pit scrawled across the center in Penelope’s handwriting.

“Yes! I knew if anyone would get that it’d be you”, Penelope’s praise left a permanent smile on your face, one that only seemed to grow as Spencer claimed his spot next to you on the floor, his thigh coming to rest against yours.

Derek raised his brow in his girlfriend’s direction, a light squeeze of his thigh accompanied by a silent promise of I’ll tell you later. He brushed her hand in understanding, laying his focus on the pair in front of him for the time being.

The nervousness that was present a month prior at the movies was no longer there, instead replaced by an almost familiar sense of comfort between the two of you. When your hand brushed against Spencer’s as you gestured with your hands in the midst of a story he simply smiled, completely embracing the feeling of your skin against yours.

And when his palm brushed against your back later that night as you were putting your coat on there wasn’t a blush in sight. The actions spoke volumes to Derek, the comforting nature of your reactions a far cry from where the two of you were a month prior.

It was an odd change in pace, one that threw him for a loop because since when was Dr. Spencer Reid comfortable with casual touches?

In Derek’s mind, there was only one explanation that made sense- it was love.

***

One Month Ago:

So, maybe it wasn’t love. Maybe she and Derek were completely off their game, instead pushing two friends into something neither actually wanted. At least that was the only reasonable explanation Penelope could find for the two of you still not dating.

Her and Derek had tried everything. After she heard about how comfortable you both had been the month prior at game night she was convinced that you had admitted your feelings for each other behind closed doors.

Now though? Now it was like you barely spared a glance at each other unless it was an absolute necessity. Casual touches had become a thing of the past, the space between the two of you widening with each wayward glance cast your way.

She made it a habit to bring Spencer up in conversations with you, and likewise with him, as often as she could, but she was met with a diplomatic response each time, you face schooled into a poker face so perfect she thought you were both taking lessons from Hotch.

As she made her way home with Derek that night she couldn’t help but bring up the thought had been plaguing her mind. “I just don’t understand how a few months ago I was telling you he looked at her the same way you looked at me and now it’s like they’re strangers”. Her tone was quiet, head downturned in defeat as she thought back on the past few months versus the past two weeks.

A hum of agreement left Derek’s lips, his hand leaving the steering wheel to give hers a subtle squeeze. “I don’t think they’re strangers, baby- there’s definitely something there but maybe they just need some space from our constant hovering. Trust me, she’s still His God-Given solace,” he smiled at the chuckle that left her lips before he continued “even if they’re both in denial”.

“They really are in denial, aren’t they?” Penelope laughed, laying a kiss on his cheek once they reached a red light. “Thank you, my love,” she whispered.

“Anything for you, P, you know that,” he responded with a slight smirk, “even helping you and your schemes”.

***

The spying continued in the gentlest of ways ten days later when the pair found themselves face to face with the two of you at the end of a rough case. Penelope was waiting for the team at the elevator when you arrived, her arms instantly flinging to wrap around Derek.

His lips found solace in her hair, the scent of her shampoo and the overall feeling of home already bringing color back to the dreary state of his heart.

“How is she?” Penelope whispered against his neck, hand moving to gently rub his back.

Derek sighed, shifting his head to steal a glance at you. You were leaning against your desk, your eyes glazed over as you examined the stitches on your hand. You had come face to face with the unsub during the last case, and while you were lucky to escape with a concussion and a deep laceration to your hand it was too close of a call for comfort.

He sighed as he watched a tear escape your eye and moved to take a step back from Penelope to check on you. But before he moved an inch, Spencer was there with his hands gently cradling your head as you cried into his shoulder.

Derek watched as your arms encircled his neck, your fingers making contact with the loose strands of Spencer’s hair. He watched as Spencer’s lips brushed against your ear, his mouth moving with unheard words of reassurement.

You nodded as he pulled away, and the smallest of smiles graced your lips for the first time since you boarded the plane nearly a week and a half ago. Spencer grinned in return, his hands grasping the purple scarf wrapped around his neck, swiftly moving to wrap it around yours instead before he pulled you in for yet another hug.

The tears were still trekking down your cheeks, but the slight smile remained as you closed your eyes and nuzzled into his chest. There was no doubt in Derek’s mind as he watched the two of you together again after weeks of avoidance.

“She’ll be just fine, Sweetness,” he murmured against the top of Penelope’s head, sparing one last look at you and Spencer finding solace in one another in the middle of the bullpen.

And well, comfort like that? It could only mean one thing- it was love.

***

Present Day:

As if no time had passed at all, Penelope and Derek found themselves back at the bar that had started it all. In the weeks after your recovery you and Spencer had begun to distance again, the memories of the night Derek had witnessed him comforting you resembled a long lost dream at this point. If Penelope hadn’t looked back at the footage to see it for herself, he would have thought he made it up entirely.

Nowadays, they were lucky if the two of you talked during a case.

But, something else was different that night. Penelope watched as Spencer excused himself from his conversation with Hotch, leaving the table to ‘get some air outside’. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but what was unexpected was the way you left the table to ‘use the bathroom’ only to turn left instead of right once you got there and heading out the doors Spencer had disappeared from.

And, well, there was no way Penelope wasn’t going to check that situation out.

She laid her palm against Derek’s thigh, playfully rolling her eyes as he wiggled her eyebrows in his direction.

She tilted her head towards the door once their eyes fully met, an unspoken command of let’s follow them dancing between their bodies. With one last sip of his beer, the two excused themselves and made their way out the door that had been graced with yours and Spencer’s presence only moments earlier.

The chill of the night air caused a shiver to run up Penelope’s arms, but nothing prepared her for the jolt of energy that ignited her soul when she spotted you and Spencer intertwined a few steps away.

Your hands laid their claim on Spencer’s torso, one bringing him closer to you by the back of his collar while the other remained settled against his side. His left hand continuously drew patterns on the plain of your side while his right held your face still and his lips hungrily moved against yours. The two of you were entirely lost in one another, the rest of the team clearly the last thing on either of your minds. It was a kiss of familiarity, and in that moment Penelope knew she and Derek had been played.

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes meeting Derek’s who looked just as dumbstruck as she was.

“I-I’m sorry what’s happening here?!” Her sudden screech of shock caused you and Spencer to look up, both of you jumping five feet apart as if that would erase her memory of the kiss she just witnessed.

She stepped forward with a hand on her hip, eyes moving up and down yours and Spencer’s figures while she committed your look of guilt to memory.

“And just how long have the two of you been keeping this from us?”

The visible swallow in your throat explained everything she needed to know.

“A month? Two? Three?” Her onslaught of questions continued as Derek stepped forward and placed an arm around her waist, chuckling at the look on both of his faces.

“It’s um,” Spencer cleared his throat and moved to give your hand a squeeze (and Penelope just barely kept from jumping up and down at that). “It’s been 3 months, 17 days, 12 hours, and 27 minutes if we’re um- if we’re being technical”.

Derek’s hand clapped his friend’s shoulder, a proud grin overtaking his features. “Look at you, Pretty Boy! I had no clue you had it in you”.

“I’m so happy for you guys!” Penelope’s praise released the tension in your shoulders, her acceptance all that mattered in that moment.

“Which one of our plans worked? And why were you acting like you hated each other?! We were so worried!”

“Wait what are you talking about?” Your nose crinkled in confusion at her questioning, turning to Spencer who looked just as confused as you felt. “We were trying to stay away from each other at work to keep things professional- but back to the important part- you guys made plans?”

Derek shook his head, gesturing towards Penelope with his right hand, “that’s all you, Baby Girl”.

She rolled her eyes at him, before facing you and Spencer, “when did you guys get together? Was it after the movie? Ooh or was it game night?!”

You laughed, thinking back on all the times you had caught them staring at you over the past few months. “No, actually- we ended up talking about how you thought I was in love with him about two weeks after we went to the bar a few months ago? Then Spencer told me Derek said the same and we realized you were right. We went on a few dates, and then that was that”.

Derek’s lips parted slightly, looking between the two of you in wonder. Because how two of the most clueless people in the FBI were able to get together so smoothly and keep it a secret was one of the greatest mysteries he’d ever heard. “That’s it?”

Spencer nodded, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “That was it. We’re gonna head back inside. I guess it’s time we tell everyone else?” He threw a questioning glance your way and at your eager nod you both left Derek and Penelope standing in shock on the otherwise deserted street.

Penelope faced Derek, letting a laugh escape her lips at the absurdity of the situation. “So... we’re gonna consider this a win for us, right? This is our doing?”

A kiss was placed to her temple, Derek’s eyes portraying nothing but love and admiration for the woman in front of him. “It’s definitely our win, Sweetness”.

***

Permanent Taglist: @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @shadyladyperfection

Spencer Taglist: @averyhotchner

HGGS Taglist: @bvttercupbby @padsfirewhisky @nighttimerain123 @harryspatternedshirts @liveloudwriteloud @sassy-hades @crankyhoefromtheyear3000 @m0thg1rl

Link to join my taglist ♡

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #derek morgan x penelope garcia #morcia #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #ash writes

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im-only-joking · 3 years

Text

Do Not Disturb on the Hotel Door Part 1

This fic has been a LONNNNNGGG time coming, based off this edit that @bbbarzal made that I am in love with and have watched probably a thousand times at this point. I mean... can’t go wrong with 2 pretty best friends, right?

https://bbbarzal.tumblr.com/post/650623516756131841/introducing-two-pretty-bestfriends

Warnings: Threesome; mentions of sex in this chapter, but no actual full smut yet; not really infidelity, but like mentions of looking at someone who is not their partner; non-negotiated kinks. ummm think that’s it, but I tried to make it so that it was clear that everything was clear-headed and consensual!

Anthony Beauvillier x Mat Barzal x Reader

Mat’s birthday fell at the perfect time to also celebrate the series win against the Penguins, meaning an even larger affair, more drinks, buttons on carefully pressed shirts being undone to bare muscled chests and dresses’ hemlines were barely covering anything.

And while your boyfriend was passed around-as the birthday boy was due to be- your eyes wandered a bit in search of conversation.

Conversation fell into your lap happily, as a drunken Beau tipped onto the couch you were perched on.

While you talked, you noticed your eyes lingering on his exposed chest, his soft linen green shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes, his biceps flexing the material of the rolled sleeves.

Sydney Martin’s hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze and you gratefully accepted another drink from her, but nursed it slowly throughout the rest of the night. Clearly, it was just the alcohol in your veins making you think… things, about Beau. You weren’t a cheater, and you loved Mat more than anything. It was okay to look.

He was your boyfriend’s best friend though. Looking, even innocently, at him was like high treason, right?

You deliberated guiltily all evening over if you had been flirty in your conversation with Beau, whether you had been leading him on in any way. You reasoned that he had to know that you were tipsy and didn’t mean it because you were with Mat, but half your brain was telling you WHORE.

“You’ve been really quiet tonight,” Mat observed, startling you out of another guilty thought-spiral.

You teased, “I’ve just been trying to let you have your spotlight.”

Mat chuckled, gathering you in his arms, half undressed. “Always willing to share as long as it’s with you.”

“Cheesy,” you smiled, nose scrunching as you let him kiss your forehead.

“Maybe.”

As soon as you got in the door of your apartment Mat was on you, sucking marks on your neck, hands flying to grip your waist, pull you as close to him as possible.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” Mat rasped, playoff beard scratching against your collarbone as he bit down, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, your hands tugging his locks.

“Daddy,” you whined, earning yourself Mat’s harsh grip on your chin.

“Use your words, baby,” Mat ordered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

“I’ll be a good girl for you Daddy,” you whimpered.

“Then you’ll need to wait, we have a guest coming.”

Your brows gathered, confusion taking over your face, making Mat rumble out a laugh.

“You really think I didn’t catch you looking at my best friend? If you’re so interested in him, why shouldn’t I let him have a little fun with you? Share how good my girl can be when she wants to,” Mat smirked, tucking a hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. “You think you can be on your best behavior for him?”

You shuddered with want, “Yes Daddy.”

“Atta girl,” Mat murmured, his hand possessive on the back of your neck as a knock on the door startled you.

“Why don’t you get naked and greet him,” Mat suggested, though his tone made it clear you weren’t to argue unless you were truly uncomfortable with it.

You gulped, nodded, and stripped to your panties, which were black lace, specifically picked out by Mat for you to wear for his birthday. He nodded, ushering you towards the door as another knock on the door beckoned you towards it.

You opened the door to see Beau as he had been dressed earlier, his blue eyes darkening as he took in your figure.

“What a warm welcome, chérie,” Beau hummed, fingers dancing over the lace at your waistline.

“Mat surprised me with this,” you mentioned, ducking your head a little. “I didn’t realize I’d been caught looking.”

Beau laughed gently, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Clearly, it isn’t a big deal, and it looks like Mat isn’t going to mind if you did more than look.”

You breathed out a giggle, hands finding Beau’s and you pulled him into the apartment to find that Mat wasn’t there.

“He’s in the kitchen, I can hear him,” Beau nodded to the archway that led to your kitchen, where the light was, in fact, on.

Beau sat on the couch, tugging you onto his lap with a squeal, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize you as you straddled his thighs. His hands explored your skin, running over your lace-covered breasts as you settled into his lap more, rolling your hips gently.

“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” Beau sniggered, hands sliding to your ass to give it a squeeze, rocking his hips up to meet yours in a dirty swivel. When you didn’t answer, one hand came up to your face to smack your cheek gently. “Mat said you were gonna be good for me. I’d like to hear an answer, doll.”

“Sorry, sir,” you gasped, rolling your hips down hard to hear Beau groan. “I like being naughty for Mat… and you. I’d like to blow you if you’d let me.”

Mat emerged from the kitchen then, a couple of bottles of water in hand, which he set on the table next to the couch.

“Thought I’d let you two get comfortable. I told Beau a bit about what you like to give him some ideas, but I know you’ll ask for what you want anyway,” Mat said, hand on your neck to tilt your face up to his for a kiss. You could feel Beau’s gaze on the both of you as you let Mat claim your mouth.

“She asked to blow me,” Beau stated, leaning back to rest against the back of the couch. Mat settled beside him, smirking.

“Well, give us a show then, darling,” he commanded, and you slipped off Beau’s lap to get on your knees in front of him, your mouth already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth.

You groaned as sunlight woke you, streaming into the room through the cracks in the blinds, and you tried to sort out what was reality. What you realized was your legs and Mat’s were interlocked, your panties and even your sleep shorts were soaked through from your dream, and your hips were still rocking gently against Mat’s thigh.

“Well, good morning,” Mat grinned, clearly having woken up before you, and amused by the situation. “Sweet dreams, I guess?”

“Jesus,” you groaned, your head thumping back onto the pillow as you detached yourself from Mat’s leg.

“I wasn’t complaining, rather the opposite,” Mat laughed, ruffling your bedhead. “Just curious to know what got you so in the mood so I can recreate it.”

You froze, guilty again, as you remembered everything about the dream. “Well… it was pretty much like any of the times we get really frisky, you know. Like, you got all… commanding and sexy and stuff.”

Mat’s brow quirked, “That normally has a pretty good effect, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before… not from a dream, anyway.”

You bit your lip anxiously.

Mat frowned. “Is there… a new thing you want to explore?”

You took a breath, steadying yourself, and sat up.

“No, not really.”

#anthony beauvillier smut #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #anthony beauvillier x mat barzal #@bbbarzal with all the inspo on this haha #and gotta thank mel #@hotgirlhockey for ur help with writing this #I couldnt have even started it without your help lol

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todoscript · 4 years

Text

Love Capsule

anonymous requested: Can I request a Bakugou scenario where the reader and the Bakusquad drag him out on a shopping trip and they see a whole section of vending machines and decide to check them out to see what cute, tasty or weird things they can find and the reader and Bakugou either get lost/ditched or squeezed together in a tight row but they have a good time and maybe the reader got a rare all might mysery figure and Bakugou wants it, so they they he can have it in exchange for a date?

genre: fluff pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 4.8k+ warnings: bakusquad shenanigans. bakugou cursing. pining.

author’s note: My Bakugou angst fic isn’t done yet but I wrote this request on the side. I wanted to have something to publish after not posting any written work for awhile so I did my best to get this out asap. sorry if it seems rushed! (also reposting this because the post stopped showing up in the tags).

There are only a fair bit of things Bakugou loathes more than wasting his valuable time. And that includes wasting that time by getting dragged into public places he has no desire to be, alongside the four most senseless nitwits the boy has ever had the displeasure of befriending.

It feels less like a friend group to him and more of a gathering of idiots as he watches four out of the six huddle around the aisle of vending machines across the mall. Where’s the other one, you might ask? You’re standing right next to him, sipping a bottle of sweet lemon tea dispensed to you from those vending machines.

“Ooh, look at this one!” The other girl in his squad, styling unruly pink hair, pokes a finger toward a blue machine in particular. What she finds interesting about it is that it’s absent of all buttons except a single one above the coin slot.

“Says here that you only have to pay a hundred yen for a mystery item,” Sero reads the instructions printed boldly across the surface, his grin showing his pearly whites. “Can range from food to even toys and cheap plastic jewelry.”

Popping up behind his taller friend, Kaminari squints incredulously at the sign before his eyes brighten like he’s concocted a conspiracy. “No, dude, I’ve heard of these kinds of vending machines before! They want you to think it’s some ordinary convenience vending machine, but these things actually have some super-secret big prize hidden inside!”

“Uh, no, that’s how you get your money robbed from you, Kaminari,” Kirishima tells the blonde, and yet his warnings end up floating from one ear and flying out the other. Kaminari fishes out a small stash of coins taut in between the lint balls of his pockets.

“Yeah yeah, just wait until you eat those words when I come home with a Playstation 5!”

“Why would there be a Playstation 5 of all things in there?” Ashido asks skeptically. She notes the small slot near the bottom, appearing sizable to dispense a large water bottle at most.

“Okay, maybe not an actual PS5, but probably the voucher you take to the game store to retrieve one, of course!” He waves the doubt away as he kneels and begins his succession of slotting coins in the machine until agitation eventually ebbs his features. About five hundred yen down the drain and all he’s amounted with in exchange are two Gudetama keychains, two packets of off-brand oreo cookies, and one can of that cheap instant black coffee he dislikes. Though if it’s one thing, he and the drink have in common it’s that they’re both positively bitter.

Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido all snicker wryly behind him while he deadpans at the snotty series of prizes with the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in defeat. Ashido takes this as the time to move along the row, dragging her sullen blond friend by the elbow. “Moving on! I want to get to the one with the Yakult drinks already!” She points onward and leads her compadres down the treasure trove of intriguing automated food vendors. Two of the boys press forward enthusiastically. Kaminari has to be lugged out of his brooding in order to play along.

“God, please just take me out already,” Bakugou mutters while leering his signature miffed face behind them. According to the giggle he registers chiming to his left, it seems you heard his complaints.

“Hm, not having a good time, I’m guessing?” you ask. The metallic edge of your lemon tea creases into the cushion that is your plush bottom lip. Bakugou finds himself staring there longer than he should and immediately tears his eyes away before he’s caught.

Your playful tone throws him off a beat later than he should’ve taken to reply. “Of course. I didn’t even want to be here to begin with,” he sneers with a brisk click of his tongue, crossing his arms. In a sense, he’s only telling half of the truth.

It’s true Bakugou did not desire to be here on his own accord. The squad dared to call him at the dead of midnight, when he was already tucked into bed by nine o’clock sharp and indulging in a needed rest, only to be ruefully awoken by his phone blaring across the expanse of his dorm room. The four should’ve suffered an earful from him as they tried to arrange a shopping trip of all things at that hour. However, his disinterest in the subject withered at the bait of your name casted into the conversation. Which to them was hook, line, and sinker. The cunning group of friends reeled him in at the idea that his crush would tag along. So, in the end, they got the rowdy blond to yield to the stupid shopping trip.

Though could it count as a shopping trip when four out of the six in their group were so transfixed by the weird vending machines in the place? The same four that organized said gathering to begin with? They’ve yet to cross into a single store here for crying out loud.

“If all you morons are gonna do is waste your damn money on these things, then this is a complete waste of time.” Bakugou doesn’t sugarcoat his irritation in the slightest. You still try to quell the bitterness in his tone with the saccharine that saturates your own.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, lighten up,” you tease playfully, pinching a small bit of the fabric on his arm to lightly urge him forward.

“You should at least try and join in on the fun with everyone—” At the turn of your head, your sentence cuts off, astonished to come across an empty space where your quartet of friends should be.

“And they’re already gone…” you say in disbelief. Your finger initially pointed in that direction falls limp. With their speedy curiosity plowing down the line of machines, the four have effectively ditched you two, leaving no trace of where they could’ve taken off for next.

The sigh from your lips lingers in amusement. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, Bakugou.”

When your eyes meet him again, you witness the scowl he glares at the abandoned space in front of the vending machine. The leer is menacing enough that if the contraption were an actual person, they might have rattled in fear, dropping down the snacks and drinks contained inside to sate his anger.

“Um, Bakugou?” you attempt to call out to him, but he’s too fixated by the peeved thoughts strewn in his head to hear you properly.

What the fuck are those dunces thinking? They planned this, didn’t they? God, I’m going to fucking kill them all! He babbles a seething torrent in his mind. Each one is more unrelenting and harsher than the last while a vein blisters prominently on his forehead.

What were the odds that going on a little shopping trip would end up with him left behind with his crush? Well, Bakugou thinks it’s absolutely none, and that this shit had to be preordained. If not, then it was just his bad fucking luck he supposes.

“—llo, earth to Bakugou Katsuki? Please send back a reply when you receive this message.”

At last, your voice surfaces, no longer drowned in Bakugou’s turbulent sea of thoughts as the hand you wave in front of him swims its way to his attention. “Huh?” He shakes his head twice to grip himself back to the matter at hand, observing in time the playful smile that curls mischievously on your lips.

“All back together I see. Good.” You start pulling on his arm and lead him in tandem with your steps. “Now let’s get going!”

Though he quirks up an eyebrow, Bakugou, weirdly enough, does not reject the way you drag him along without waiting for his response. In fact, with the other four gone, he finds it compelling that you’re taking the reins and asks mildly, “What? Are we gonna be doing some actual shopping now?”

His joke earns him your laughter resonating in melodic lilts to his ears before you leave his side to toss your empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Nope, we’re gonna be doing something even more fun, of course!” Then you resume dragging Bakugou down the walkways of the mall.

It’s not long until he questions the consecutive twists and turns he’s forced to take, having only been answered by your pursed grin multiple times.

“Hey, no more questions! Just trust me!” you quip at his refusal to be quiet and just obediently follow. The blonde can’t help it, of course, given the circumstances he’s wound himself in. Not many boys his age can control themselves if the person they like is pulling them along with as much enthusiasm as you are right now. But Bakugou is different from those other simpletons, crafting a mask to cover the elation hidden beneath with usual displeasure. Nothing but his uncharacteristic lack of annoyance and the ample glances in your direction could truly give himself away to his affections for you.

So with that, he places a generous amount of hope that you guide him somewhere more entertaining than that borefest he witnessed from the squad earlier.

But the moment you two reach your destination, he wonders if he may have accidentally misplaced that same hope down a rabbit hole instead.

“What the…” Bakugou’s words drift in the air at the quizzical sight before him. Mouth hanging open, he’s unable to conjure any sensible thoughts in time before you step in front of him.

“Tada! The Capsule Toy Gacha Room!” You spread your hands outward to present him an unhindered view of the room. It’s teeming with small capsule toy machines that line the walls, stacked on top of each other not to waste a single space inside. His red eyes squint at the assortment of bright colors painted on each machine that assaults his vision.

“Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Bakugou asks, jabbing a finger at the machines. You reply as you walk inside, “It’s the Gacha Room, Bakugou. Of course this place is gonna be filled with them.” You impart him an answer he is not at all satisfied with.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid! Glad it hasn’t really changed,” you say, noting the only real difference between then and now were the new toys and characters updated with the current trends. He begrudgingly trails behind you into the narrow corridors sandwiched with the machines on each side. The modest little tune you hum between your lips is a stark contrast to his disgruntled huffs accompanying his dragging feet.

Bakugou thinks being here is not any different from what the other four are frolicking about outside. This might be the worse alternative, considering you give money to a machine that grants you an item at complete random. You have no way of knowing what or who you’re going to get until the colorful sphere pops out at the bottom. And then, in an instance, your anticipation fades away when you open it and receive the character no one particularly cares about—the little charm inevitably gathering dust, forgotten in the drawers of your desk. Overall, these toy capsule machines were just gluttons devouring the money of parents whose kids always whine about never getting what they wanted.

Still, because it’s you, he stays and watches you indulge in your little nostalgia trip.

As your eyes glide down the row of toy dispensers, trying your best to decipher the items contained behind the blurry glass, you chime in, “Say, Bakugou, don’t you have any memories of gacha machines?”

Bakugou’s brows furrow in contemplation. He racks through the nooks and crannies between the crevices of his mind and recalls some standout memories. “I guess. Few of ’em were stuck in front of the arcade place near my neighborhood,” he answers, but those memories immediately begin to sour the more he looks into the details.

You don’t see how his face slowly contorts with annoyance while he plays back a scene in his head.

At the time, Bakugou had only sprouted to the young age of five years old. He’s huddled around his posse in front of the arcade he mentioned, slotting a coin inside the capsule machine that was stocked full of charms of Pro Heroes, which housed a very special limited edition prize of All Might to honor their collaboration with the famous Number One of Japan.

The boy was positively giddy at what was to come out, remaining hopeful thanks to the giant poster of All Might gazing down upon him with his triumphant grin. Yet even when his squeaky little voice hollered out a “Plus Ultra!” to reinforce his luck, he was given dirt in response.

But you know who did get that mystery All Might prize?

Deku. Fucking Deku.

Right after he had his spin of the machine, the green-haired boy stepped up, gave it a go, and got All Might on his first fucking try. To say five-year-old Bakugou was bitter would only be putting it mildly. The unbridled emotions bundled in his tiny body were just waiting to burst in an explosion.

But in the end, did he fight Midoriya for it? No, he did not. For if he did, his mother would have scolded the hell out of him, and his young self reflected in the moment that avoiding parental wrath outweighed the limited edition Mystery All Might figure charm, as sad as that sounded. So since then, he’s tried to repress that memory in the far corners of his mind.

But it seems God just desires to spite him.

“Hey, look!” You pull lightly on his shirt to capture his attention, eyes trained forward at whatever piqued your interest. Bakugou peeks over your head, and what he’s met with does not please him.

“They have a gacha machine featuring Pro Heroes here!” you shout cheerfully, walking toward it with the hem of Bakugou’s shirt in hand, who begrudgingly follows along despite a groan nearly leaving his mouth.

“Isn’t this cool?” you ask. You squat down to peer into the peculiar machine located at the very bottom of the stack. Bakugou clicks his tongue as part of his reply, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers.

“No.”

“Hey, one day they’ll be making toys and charms of you as well, Mister ‘I’m Gonna Be The Number One Hero,’” you say with a giggle, and your comment sparks a bit of pink to dust his cheeks while he looks down at you from his standing position.

He attempts to join you and your fixation on the Pro Hero capsule machine. However, when he starts bending his knees, he finds this to be a bit difficult. The more he squats down, the more Bakugou realizes they truly made this place for children and not bulky teenagers like him training in hero school. His knees and bottoms almost brush up against the plastic sheen of the machines on each opposing side.

Though he has to fidget into a particular position to get somewhat comfortable, he eventually gets there and kneels next to you.

“Why don’t we give a go at this thing?” you suggest, and he tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

“No way, these are a fucking waste of money,” he rejects.

“Hey it only costs two hundred yen!” you counter, “And plus, you might get a certain hero you want, like say... All Might?” You attempt to lure him in using his idol’s very name, but Bakugou doesn’t take the bait so easily and remains rigid in his stance.

Even if he did want to try for All Might, he’s sure his capsule is long gone by now anyway.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, pleaseee?” you draw out your pleas in a cute little tone that takes the blond by complete surprise. Unaware of how much power you have over him, the doe eyes and pout that paint your features make it difficult for him to maintain his hardened facade. Feeling his walls begin to melt away at the endearing sight, he ultimately grits his teeth, eyes shut as his hands rummage down into his pockets.

“Fine,” he mutters in defeat, and that smile appears on your lips once again as you lift your arms in triumph.

Pulling out two separate hundred yen coins, he promptly slides them both into the coin silt. When he hears them clank against the other change inside, he goes for the handle and gives it a quick turn. One of the capsule balls begins its journey down the machine and quickly arrives at the hatch that Bakugou lifts to retrieve his prize.

Snapping the capsule open, he’s met with Endeavor’s ugly mug, seeming even more unsightly from the low-quality production of the charm. The paint job is beyond sloppy, with the colors on the costume not depicted accurately and the figure’s pupils drawn to make him appear cross-eyed.

“Hm, you got the number one hero,” you tease, lightheartedly nudging your elbow at his sides because you know full well it isn’t the number one hero he wanted. Bakugou ignores your taunts and shoves the flame hero’s plastic face down the depths of his pockets, making sure to give it to Todoroki later just to annoy him.

“Yeah yeah, your turn, princess.” He scooches a bit to his right to let you have your go. You gladly follow, taking out the two hundred yen from your money pouch.

Bakugou remains disinterested throughout the entire process but is still attentive enough to observe how you hum those casual tunes of yours despite doing something so mundane. He also starts absorbing the cute shape of your nose and the outline of your lips from this angle. It isn’t long until he realizes how close you are in this position, to the point where he could practically smell your fragrant scent, and soon that pink hue diffuses on his face again.

Fuck, I need to stop that, he urges.

By the time he turns away, the capsule machine has begun its machinations once again.

The sizable sphere descending the hatch this time has striped patterns of red, yellow, and blue, colors that remind him all too much of a certain Pro Hero— Wait. What the fuck—

“This one looks a bit bigger than the others, don’t you think? Wonder what... Oh, hey, it’s All Might!” You go through the emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and then finally, glee.

Bakugou feels like he’s reliving those horrible memories once again as he beholds the shiny, miniature figure nestling in your palms before you lift it to grant a better view of its glory. It twists around from how you pinch it by the attached string while it’s hovering in the air. When the Pro Hero’s face turns in the blond’s direction, it’s like the inanimate object is somehow taunting him.

Compared to Endeavor’s shitty charm, All Might’s is a proper representation of who he is. The better quality plastic molded accurately into the man’s figure, the crevices between his muscles delved into displaying his well-defined physique. The colors on his costume are all correctly painted in his signature red, white, yellow, and blue. They even got the broad grin and shadowy features on his face to the tee.

Whichever company created this toy indeed did All Might justice because it looks exactly like the one Midoriya unsealed right in front of his envious five-year-old eyes.

Bakugou’s body shakes with suppressed anger. His hands clench and then unclench themselves while in conflict with his thoughts. Then, he suddenly moves toward you, darting for the charm that you narrowly pull out from his grapples in time.

“L-Lemme see!” he demands, shifting his hand around to grab hold of it for some reason. The act has you befuddled while you continue to move the toy away to evade capture.

“Huh? Why?”

“I need... to fucking make sure— OOF—”

His sputters are the last things that escape his lips before he staggers off balance due to all those hasty movements. It sends his body toppling over yours onto the floor, where your head would’ve thumped against the hard ground had the boy’s well-trained instincts not maneuvered a hand beneath it in time to cushion your fall.

Your descent to the floor is not at all graceful, wincing slightly at the impact. It’s when the pain ebbs away that you and Bakugou finally realize the very awkward position you’re suddenly both in.

Bakugou is hovering over you, body between your legs as one of his hands is cradling your head. The other is situated next to your face against the ground to keep himself upright, letting his eyes stare down at your stricken expression.

Unknowingly, you had settled your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder out of impulse during fall. The other one is still grasping the All Might figure, which is unharmed despite the abrupt movements.

Bakugou can feel your even breaths caress his lips from how close in proximity both of your faces are in this position. If any of you so much as move the wrong way, your lips would undoubtedly collide into each other. Though Bakugou doesn’t mind the notion, he isn’t going to instigate it if you aren’t willing. But the way your eyes line toward his lips, giving him a similar enamored look to the one he has right now, it seems both of you are on the same page.

Taking your mutual fixations as the sign to continue, Bakugou draws himself forward to close the distance while you rise to meet him in the middle.

And finally, he gets to kiss those lips of yours. The lips that adorn your cute face he always snuck glances at. The lips so unhinged in their playful teasing toward him. The lips he’s been so mesmerized and bewitched by throughout this chaotic excuse of a shopping trip.

And when they meet, they’re as full and soft as he imagined them to be, melding perfectly against his.

The hand he’s nestled under your head allows him to press you further into the liplock. You’re nearly enveloped in his wistful machinations, wanting to drown in the sea of his affections as your arms find their way around him.

You would’ve allowed yourself to do so, if not for the unfortunate security camera you catch in the corner of your eye from where you laid.

Your eyes widen, staggering out of their half-liddedness. You pat your hand in rapid succession against his shoulder, getting the blond to stir and separate from the kiss—an act he detests as he doesn’t want the embrace to end.

“What?” he gruffs. You point up at the ceiling, and he turns in that direction. When he detects the security camera about to automatically shift toward this particular side of the Capsule Toy Gacha Room, his face grows full of panic. He lifts himself off your body immediately.

With the two of you remembering where you are, you rose from the ground and cleaned yourselves up. You try to appear pristine as possible, without letting any suspicion about what has happened get tossed in your direction. Still, the red faces plastering both of your features are already a dead giveaway.

“I… Uh…” Bakugou’s still lost in the haze of the heated moment, unsure of what words he should utter. Much to his relief, his burden lifts when two notifications from your phones ring in sync together, diverting your attention.

When you open your phone and slide across the notice, a text message from the Bakusquad ascends onto the screen.

Mina: heyyyy just finished going through all these vending machines! you wont believe how much money we spent!!

The message follows a selfie of the four holding a myriad of drinks and snacks together in the picture. You can’t suppress your giggle at the endearing sight. Another chime sounds when a new text pops up at the bottom.

Eijirou: let’s all meet up again at that blue mystery vending machine!

“Well, you heard them,” you say while clicking off your phone, “we better get a move on.”

Bakugou relays your words back in a slow nod, following through with a rough “yeah” that cleaves his throat. The two of you walk alongside each other once again while you leave the Capsule Toy Gacha Room. Only your steps padding against the mall’s confounds accompany the quiet atmosphere established between you two—awkward and a bit unnerving.

It’s when you’ve both made it to the meet-up spot in front of the blue vending machine that you alleviate yourselves of the strained tension.

“Soooo… was there any reason you wanted to get your hand on this thing so badly?” you question, drawing out the All Might charm that led those heated events to transpire. It dangles between your fingertips and glances at Bakugou along every rotation. The blonde bounces his eyes between you, All Might, and the ground, unsure if he should admit that he was acting out of childish jealousy and bitterness.

“I… Urgh… Fuck…”

You raise an eyebrow when he fumbles with his words. He mutters blatant obscenities between every possible resolve that crosses his mind.

“Look, forget it. It’s not important,” Bakugou concludes, but you think differently, not satisfied with his answer.

“No. Tell me.”

With that weight in your tone, Bakugou realizes he can’t avoid the subject any longer. He releases a long sigh as he leads you through the infamous tale, observing how your expression grows from concerned to downright amused.

“Really? You’ve held a grudge for that long?” The laughter you initially attempt to suppress ends up bubbling from your throat. Hearing it spurs Bakugou to clutch his hands together into shaky fists.

“Look. If you know me, then you should remember I never want to lose to fucking Deku. The fact he got the All Might charm right after I got garbage fucking pissed me off!” he exclaims loud enough for his harsh words to reach a couple walking by. They spare worried glances at the blonde when they stroll past him.

“Hmm…” you muse in thought. Bakugou can tell by the glint rising in your eyes and your tone that you’re up to something again. “I can give you mine if you want. But only for a very small price.”

He quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what would that fucking price be?”

The smirk prominent on your pretty lips widens while you teeter your weight to your tippy-toes in front of him.

“A date. Just a single date will suffice,” you tell him, and Bakugou’s caught off guard by how simple the offer is. His delayed response has you leaning forward, appraising him for an answer.

“Well..?” You wave the charm before his eyes by the thin string as if to hypnotize him. But in all honesty, Bakugou knows that sweet smile of yours and luster in your eyes is all you need to have him wrapped around your finger.

His playful smirk surfaces his lips. He provides his answer by snatching the figure right from your dainty fingertips.

“You got yourself a deal, princess.”

You happily clap your hands together. “It’s settled then! We’ll have a date here at the mall next week!”

“Hah?! Why the fucking mall again?!”

“Because we didn’t do much here anyway, so I say we should give it another shot together next week!”

“What? And go shopping? I don’t wanna be your bellboy the entire time—”

“Mom! Mom! Look at that boy’s All Might toy!”

You and Bakugou are both surprised by the new, high-pitched voice that enters in the middle of your riffraff. Your eyes trail along to sound and come face-to-face with a young boy staring at the toy in Bakugou’s hand.

“I want one too!”

Unable to control his gloating, Bakugou dangles the charm next to his face.

“Yeah well, too bad, kid. It’s mine so f—”

“Bakugou,” you warn. You halt the obscene words from entering the boy’s ears and avoid giving his mom a hard time.

“Argh… I mean... scram!”

You almost smack yourself. You can’t believe Bakugou has the guile to argue with a child at this age.

Though he forgoes the curses, that doesn’t make Bakugou’s words sound any less harsh. As a result, the kid pouts. He pouts hard. His eyes start to become glassy, lining the edge of his lashes with droplets. Recognizing her child on the verge of breaking out into tears, the mom acts quickly. She’s by his side, patting his back.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go to that blue vending machine over there and see if you can get a toy too,” she cheers him up instantly, dropping a hundred yen coin down her son’s small palm.

“Okay, mom!” he responds, gleeful again.

He dawdles over to the machine with purpose in his steps, inserting the coin, and pressing the lone button on the mystery vending machine.

You and Bakugou don’t perceive any noise emitting from the machine, and yet the little boy is putting his hands into the slot to pull something out.

“Mom, why did the machine give me a paper that says PS5?”

Both of you go rigid. Kaminari is not going to be happy hearing about this.

#bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou scenarios

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suckishima · 3 years

Photo

Chapter 1 | Chapter 402

I just opened up the first chapter to do a reread of everything from the beginning and I can’t believe I forgot that this quote is literally the first panel of the entire series. And the way the quote is then spread across those four pages in Chapter 402 makes me crazy, so excuse me while I ramble on about it under the cut

So I think this kind of goes without saying - but the fact alone that the series is bookended by this same quote right at the beginning, and throughout the final chapter just solidifies that it’s meant to be the core theme of the series. But it’s the way that the quote is presented the second time that really makes an impact to me.

At face value, as the opening line of the series, it’s just introducing us as the audience to the basic rules and concepts of volleyball. The teams are separated, there’s a ball, and neither team can let it touch the ground. It takes up a single panel and features nameless players diving, giving their all to try and keep the ball in play. It’s almost purely expository, there’s no emotion involved in the way it’s presented. (Except, arguably, the decision to bold the word “connect,” but I’m gonna come back to that later).

Then, as we read the series, we just come to learn the practical truth of these rules as they were presented to us. We meet other teams, play against them, and the whole time the idea of “connecting” the ball to your teammates, is slowly also framed as “connecting” the ball to the other side as well. If you botch a receive and it goes back over the net, it’s a chance ball for the other team to attack instead. The series is constantly bombarding us with imagery of the importance of every single action being connected to the next, first just physically in terms of passing the ball - but also themes of communication, friendships, and rivalries are brought into it too - emotionally connecting is just as crucial to winning as physically connecting is (BOTH of these are why they lose to Seijoh at Inter High). And the series shows us this both directly (Nekoma’s team banner being “connect” and their team emphasizes defense to make them strong), and more indirectly (Kageyama is well-renowned as a great player, but he doesn’t become phenomenal until he connects to his teammates emotionally and learns to communicate better). (I could tangent on about this for a while, but I’ve already sort of made a post about it here, so I won’t go on too long on this point).

So, when we get to Chapter 402, we’re already emotionally involved, we know the importance of the rules because we’ve been following them, living within in them for the last four hundred chapters. The quote starts small - that panel of Hinata and Kagayema’s backs that just say “Haikyu... also known as volleyball,” is the very bottom corner of a much larger spread, it functions as a sort of introduction or a lead in to the next three pages.

Then, the next two page spread and we’re finally seeing the opening play between Argentina and Japan at the Olympics. The whole right side of the page is dedicated to Oikawa’s serve and the “two teams separated by a net...” is lingering in the readers mind, with Oikawa of course representing the “other” team. Most of this whole spread serves to show us those original rules being put into action, but now instead of nameless players we aren’t emotionally invested in, they’re players that we know and understand - we feel the gravity and the scale of the game they’re playing, but at the same time it almost feels nostalgic.

And something else that I think is really interesting, is that even though the quote on this spread starts with “two teams being separated by a net...” the net itself is nowhere to be seen on the page (other than the small panel at the right, where the emphasis is on the crowd and you can’t tell the teams apart anyway). From a practical standpoint, we know the net is there, but since we never see it visually, we’re already feeling how the theme of “connection” goes beyond just the players on “our” side of the net.

Then, the bottom left panel has Hinata and Kageyama’s backs to us again as the rush past each other in a way that’s very familiar to us now - the way they’re drawn to look like they’re going fast, and they aren’t looking at each other but are clearly on the same wavelength because of the framing - we know they’re about to do the freak quick. "Once it is in the air, a team has no more than three touches...” the words overlay it, but instead of going right into the next action, we flip the page and there’s only two words: “...to connect...” and the ENTIRE spread is just all of the characters who have made an impact on Hinata and Kageyama. The action just cuts out for a second and we’re left with this incredible visual of everyone they’ve connected with, and shown in instances of importance too - and the quote never stopped being about volleyball. The reader just pauses for a moment and takes in that it wasn’t just hard work that got them there - yes they learned to receive, set and spike, but they learned to connect to each other too. And I just love that the word “connect” has been bolded in both versions of the quote - its importance has been there all along, we just weren’t really aware of it yet.

The last page of the quote then shifts back to the game, and we get to see the results of Hinata and Kageyama’s connection specifically. The panelling here is some of my favorite in the whole series, the way the freak quick is portrayed is just phenomenal. Kageyama and Hinata separated by the break in the panel so we can see both of the faces, but the ball is the same. It makes us feel like they aren’t really separated at all, and using the ball as a visual representation of their connection I think is so simple and so powerful, AND it doubles as just a practical effect to show us how fast the ball had to move to get there.

The quote ends with the bit about attacking, and of course, they scored, but at this point it’s become clear that it was never really about that. It’s about the connections they made that allowed them the opportunity to score in the first place. Through each other, and everyone else they’ve met along the way, they got to keep playing.

This is also the first time we’ve seen the net since the match started, and when we do see it, it’s from the angle of Hinata’s eye as he looks over the top of it. Which, imo is another direct reference to the next quote from the very first chapter: “The view from the top. It’s something I could never ever see on my own. But maybe... just maybe... if I wasn’t alone... I might be able to see it.” The proof is all right there. He isn’t alone anymore, he can see the view from the top and he’s seeing it from the highest level in the world.

#legit i sat down to start reading and just immediately got emotional and wrote another 1k analysis post lmaoooo #HOW DID I NOT REMEMBER THIS IS THE OPENING QUOTE TF??#hq!!#hq meta #connect #hq manga spoilers #and ty to anyone who actually read all of that #x

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

richboy!yeosang (part 4)

word count: 7k

fluff

(part 3) (series masterlist)

when you look back on your pregnancy, you’re not gonna remember the rocky start you and yeosang both had.

your immense fear and yeosang’s anger and just an overall feeling of dread and hysteria that comes with an accidental pregnancy.

it’ll be all the little moments in between that stick with you, the cute stuff and the hard stuff and the wide range of emotions that didn’t even fully prepare you and yeosang for what was to come in parenthood.

three months:

“this is cute.”

you look over at yeosang holding a tiny pink onesie with the brightest smile on his face, strawberries and cherries scattered around the soft fabric.

you mirror his smile as you walk closer to him, cocking your head to the side as you narrow your eyes at him.

“just say you want it be a girl already. i know you do.”

it’d been the debate going on between you two for the past few weeks, you not admitting you want a boy and him not admitting he wants a girl; but you can just tell he does, little comments he makes and the things he picks out when you pop in stores during sunday errands.

“because it’s pink? it could be for a boy, too,” yeosang says, “that doesn’t mean anything.”

you bite back the smirk threatening to take over your face, not letting it slip that, sometimes, you’ll hear him talking quietly at night. speaking into the darkness about how much he’s wanted to have a little girl to spoil.

“but you can’t tell your mommy,” he teased, his voice in a hushed whisper.

he now also has a habit of slipping his hands under your shirt (or more often, his that you stole) and splaying his fingers across your warm skin.

your stomach is just starting to show, the slightest indication of a bump forming that made his heart warm way more than he ever expected to feel; he knew he’d love to see you pregnant but he had no idea how much it was really gonna effect him.

watching as your body transformed seamlessly in order to carry his child.

“not that we should keep secrets from mommy, she just already knows everything,” he corrects, grateful to have your face hidden in his chest so he doesn’t see you smile.

“i can’t wait for you to meet her. she’s gonna be a lot better at this than me but hopefully you like me, too, baby girl.”

and you don’t have the heart to tell him you hear him at night, nor do you have the heart to tell him the person growing inside of you won’t be able to hear him for a few more weeks.

but you love how quickly he’s grown comfortable with this idea of becoming a father, finding solace in speaking hushly and sweetly when no one but them are around to hear.

“it has nothing to do with that,” you squeak, poking at his chest and giggling when he grabs your hand. “i just know. i know everything, right?”

his eyes narrow suspiciously and you have to control the laugh threatening to bubble up from your chest, instead giggling more when he tosses the onesie in the cart and guides you in front of the cart.

your back is against his chest as you two push the cart together, lingering in the newborn section for far too long as you excitedly look through clothes, books, and toys you already know are gonna clutter the apartment before the baby’s arrival.

four months:

your eating habits before pregnancy were, admittedly, rather picky.

everyone in your life had always made fun of you for having the palate of a toddler, straying from anything that didn’t look appetizing or produced a mildly unpleasant smell.

that’s why, after tons of research and reading up on the journey of pregnancy, yeosang was humored to hear about ‘unusual cravings’ that come about in the first and second trimester.

“i don’t know, baby, i can’t see you eating anything too disgusting. you’re kind of picky.”

“you’re kind of picky,” you immaturely mock because if pregnancy brain is giving you anything, it’s a lack of witty comebacks and remarks to your smart ass boyfriend.

a snort leaves yeosang’s mouth as he piles fruit into the blender, being sure to add a few extra blueberries after the doctor told you guys it was a good power food to implement into your diet.

it was something that, no matter how hormonal and scatter-brained, you were noticing. how sweet and attentive and just... into the pregnancy he was.

it was almost shocking you, to be honest.

because you knew yeosang was sweet, that the tough guy persona he attempts to put up around others is just a macho act, but this whole journey is really making you see just how caring your boyfriend is.

how he’s so accommodating to you and will drop everything the moment you open your mouth to ask him for something.

how when your parents were, while in the end thrilled to be grandparents, hesitant and nervous and asked if you wanted to move back in for help, insisted he would take care of you and the baby and they’d have nothing to worry about.

how everything that should be difficult during this is just so easy because of him, your level of comfort and happiness exponentially high.

he places your smoothie on the table before leaving a parting kiss on your head, telling you that he’ll be home early and will see you later. you smile and wave happily before resting back on the couch, sipping at your drink as you catch up on school work.

and it’s that same sight that greets yeosang when he comes home a few hours later, emptied cup on the table and your closed laptop resting on your stomach as you nap soundly.

a smile lights up his face and a warmth spreads over his entire body upon seeing you, any stress or irritation from his work day quickly fading away as he makes his way over to you.

he bends down and brushes hair from your face, his eyes roaming every feature; he’s excited to see what your child is gonna look like.

if she’ll (because something is just telling him it’s a girl, or maybe it’s just his wishful thinking and hopes), have your eyes or his nose. if she’s gonna have your personality, sweet and gentle with just enough spunk, or be more like him.

his eyes travel down to your shirt-covered stomach, a small smile on his face as he recalls the first time you noticed the change.

it was after you took a bath, body aching and sore as your body adjusted to morning sickness.

it was something so small and subtle but you had noticed just before wrapping the towel around yourself, your eyes narrowing as you turned to the side.

“yeosang?” he heard from the bedroom, pushing his laptop and books away as he makes his way to the en suite.

there was no sense of urgency in your voice but he still felt the overwhelmingly need to get to you, some innate protectiveness in him spiking anytime you call his name these days.

“yeah, my love?” he hums, his eyes widening and a smirk crossing his face when he’s greeted by your naked body.

“oh?” he hums, making his way over and gripping your bare hips. “i would’ve joined you in here earlier if i knew you wanted to-”

“not that, you perv,” you whine, pushing him away lightly before placing your hand on your lower stomach.

he notices your placement and immediately snaps out of his lustful daze, his eyes watching you carefully for any hint of pain or discomfort; but instead, he’s greeted with the sight of excitement shining in your eyes.

“does my stomach look different to you?” you ask, the small smile on your face making his heat pang in his chest. “there’s a little bump.”

“well no shit, baby,” he teases lightly, his hands going back on your stomach as he looks at you through the mirror. “gotta fit her in there somehow.”

you bite back the smirk on your lips as you meet his gaze, your eyebrow raising before he throws his hands up innocently.

“or him. gotta find them in there somehow.”

you let out a huff before rolling your eyes, turning back to look at yourself in the mirror.

you knew you were gonna see some sort of change soon but it’s like finally seeing it begin is making it all sink in. that you’re gonna get bigger and rounder and really start to look and feel more pregnant.

and while you obviously know that’s a part of this, that makes you a little nervous, too. watching as your body changes and you become more-

“you look beautiful.”

you heart jumps at the compliment still, a small smile on your face as you meet his gaze. it’s soft and warm and sweet and only makes your smile grow bigger, your head cocked to the side as you stare back at him.

he didn’t know if you needed to hear that right now, if the way you were looking at yourself was just curious and accepting or if you’re brain was gonna start becoming insecure, but he just felt like he needed to say it.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, pressing up on your toes to peck his lips sweetly.

you giggle into this kiss when, after you try to pull away, he drags you back to him and deepens it. a squeal leaves your mouth when his hands grip your thighs and pull you up, your legs wrapping immediately around his waist.

your towel falls to the ground with a plop as he makes his way to your bed, throwing you down and smiling wider as your giggle rings through the air.

the gentle lull of fingers running against your skin stirs you awake, a quiet groan escaping you before your eyes flutter open. an uncontrollable smile crosses your lips when you’re able to make out yeosang, his warm hands on your stomach and his soft eyes staring at you.

“hey baby.”

“hi,” you mumble tiredly, your arms outstretched before he chuckles and collapses on top of you. he makes sure to hold himself above you to not crush yo entirely, burying his face in your neck to press short, ticklish kisses.

“you smell good.”

“i haven’t left this couch, i can’t imagine how.”

he pulls back to look down at you, his hand combing though your messy hair and a laugh threatening to leave his mouth.

“have you had anything to eat yet?”

and he has to hold back a gag when you tell him you’ve only had your peanut butter and cheese, the bizarre craving that left you both shocked and surprised.

five months:

“alright, everyone who thinks it’s a girl, say i.”

you roll your eyes when you hear yeosang’s voice boom the loudest “i,” quickly followed by mingi, hongjoong, seonghwa and san.

“alright, so now everyone’s who correct in thinking it’s a boy, say i.”

“i.”

“i-”

“i! will bet my entire bank account that it’s a girl,” san interrupts, nearly throwing his fork across the table as he points it threateningly toward the ‘boy side.’

it was the day before your 18-week check up and nothing could’ve prepared you for the chaos that was to come.

the boys had made it a point to come over once a week ever since you told them the news, swapping between ordering food and bringing home cooked meals to fully prepare for their new lives as uncles.

it was a healthy mix of of fun banter and arguing before an aggressive explosion of debates like these: guessing the sex of the baby, fighting for spots as godparents and seeing who’s meal is gonna satisfy your pregnant self the most.

“anyone need $40?” jongho asks, him and wooyoung the most confident you’ve ever seen that you’re gonna have a baby boy - you wish you were as confident as all of them, because you really don’t know what’s gonna come tomorrow.

“fuck you!” san whines, a giggle leaving you as your hand rests on your stomach and you watch the boys argue back and forth.

yeosang kisses the side of your head as he gathers the plates and cups, seonghwa and yunho quietly talking to you and asking how you’ve been doing.

they knew it was hard for you to make the decision to not enroll in classes for the spring semester, knowing that the later months of pregnancy and baby’s arrival were far too close to finals time.

but you seem to be happy about that decision it seems, basking in the easy going pregnancy you’ve had thus far.

“i’ll probably go back when she’s one or something,” you say absentmindedly, the plan you started concocting in your head when you and yeosang talked about what you were gonna do.

“my parents said they’d be more than happy to watch her on the days i have class so i think it’ll be okay. i’m definitely going back, though.”

seonghwa and mingi shared a look with matching smiles on their faces, something that went unnoticed to you before the other boys quickly came over and stole your attention away.

“looks like you got her thinking it’s a girl, too,” seonghwa mumbles to yeosang, the boy biting back a smile.

he overheard you and couldn’t control the happiness blooming in his chest, watching with a smile as he watches you giggle and hit san and wooyoung’s arms playfully.

by the time the boys left, absolutely overstaying their welcome as they do every time, you were exhausted. laid out on the couch with your head on the arm, eyes threatening to close before yeosang came over and leant down next to you.

“you okay?”

“yeah,” you yawn, running your fingers through his hair lazily. “they’re just a little exhausting.”

“a little?” he hums skeptically, a smirk crossing your face as you hold your arms out to him.

“what?” he smiles, eyes lighting up as he looks at you.

“help me up.”

he pulls you up before scooping you into his arms, a content hum leaving your mouth as he walks toward the bedroom. he places you gently on the bed before pecking your head with a kiss, mumbling for you to change while he gets you a glass of water.

this was the new night time routine like clockwork, yeosang more often that not carrying your exhausted body in before setting you up with water and waiting until you fell asleep soundly on his chest.

he comes in a few moments later to see you already in bed, a smile lighting up your face that has him speeding up to get to you.

your eyes are drooping with your hold on him tight, soft mumbles of “i love you,” in your ear, about to succumb to sleep before you hear his deep voice begin to speak.

“baby, you still up?”

“hm?” you hum sleepily, your chin resting on his chest as you stare up at him with tired eyes.

he smiles softly upon seeing your face, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek gently.

there’s been something about seeing you like this that makes it feels like he’s falling for you again, unable to fully grasp just how much he loves you sometimes. it’s a feeling he once thought was scary, one that he thought he wasn’t even capable of.

but he sees now that’s not the case at all; that, if anything, the feeling only gets stronger and more prevalent the more you two go through.

“you know i really don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, right?” he asks, the softness and sweetness of his tone making your tired state lessen. “i’m gonna be happy no matter what tomorrow.”

you can’t even control the giggle that leaves your mouth, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips.

“i love you,” you tell him, humor and amusement heavy in your tone not taking away from how true it is.

and from the slight pinkness on his cheeks and the scoff that leaves his mouth, you think he knows you’re only making fun of him a little.

“of course i know that, silly,” you tell him, his eyes narrowing before you snake your hand down and play with his fingers.

“but i do think you’ve convinced me it’s a girl, too,” you sigh out, your head resting back on his chest and your eyes closing. “i’ll also be happy either way, though. i think...we’re gonna be good at this.”

the words are quiet and sweet and making his heart jump. but when he looks down to meet your gaze again, he sees your fast asleep against his chest.

“so....” san drags out at next week’s dinner, the seven boys around the table looking at you and yeosang expectantly. “did you guys find out?”

you and yeosang share a smile and nod at them, the table erupting into a burst of chatter and demands to be told who was right.

“you’re not gonna tell us, are you?” seonghwa asks, the twinge in both your eyes making him far too skeptical.

a smirk crosses your face as you shake your head no, groans of protest and silent curses filling the apartment. they harass you and yeosang for the rest of the night, going as far as to put up money and chore work to know the answer.

but you insist that you’re keeping it a surprise, not even letting mingi or yunho know even though you and yeosang decided that, if they want t, they’re gonna have to be the godparents.

six months:

"this is pretty," you say quietly, tapping your finger on a light yellow that has yeosang’s face falling into a grimace.

"it's not for a nursery, y/n," he mumbles from behind you, the close proximity of his voice causing you to jump.

you hadn't realized he had moved closer to you as you browsed, his chest now pressed up right against your back. you feel the breath of his words grazing your skin as he looks over your shoulder.

"how 'bout that?" he asks, his arm brushing yours as he points to the most hideous shade of brown you'd ever seen.

"that is so ugly," you bluntly state, his deep chuckle rumbling in your ear as he pulls his arm back to rest on your shoulder. you try not to jump at the open affection and touch he's giving you, his hand ever so often squeezing gently.

"oooh, what about this?" you ask, craning your neck up to show him the color sample.

your cheeks nearly touch from how close your faces are now, holding your breath as you watch him look at it before meeting your gaze. you resist the urge to swallow nervously, his teasing eyes now looking right into yours.

"pretty," he mumbles, "it'll do."

“pretty,” you say, laid out on the floor as your eyes roam the freshly painted wall yeosang just finished. “it’ll do.”

“oh will it? i’m glad,” yeosang quips sarcastically, paint on his face and his hair a mess of waves as you giggle into your hand.

keeping the sex of the baby a secret, unfortunately, meant that you and yeosang had no help in painting the nursery.

it was the second guest room that you two never even touched, the white and beige walls in desperate need of some color for your baby’s arrival.

today reminded you heavily of your and yeosang’s first official date, when you shopped around the store with him to pick out the paint for his pool house.

you remember feeling so nervous and out of your element during that time, his chest against your back as you pushed the cart making your heart pound in your chest.

your cheeks warm when your hear his chuckle, his footsteps moving toward you until his arms reach around you to grasp the bar of the cart.

"you know, you talk a lot of shit one minute and then get unbelievably nervous the next," he lowly mumbles in your ear. "quite easily, might i add."

"i'm not nervous," you snap, placing your hands in the middle of the bar as you to start to push it down the aisle. "what gave you that impression?"

“baby, can you hand me that brush please?” he hums softly, your eyes moving to him atop the ladder.

you nod your head with a small smile, doing your best to get up despite the size of your growing stomach; you had thought at this point you’d actually be a little tired of being pregnant but, much to your surprise, it wasn’t annoying you too much.

yet.

“here you go,” you squeak, throwing it up to him just for it to fly past him and clatter back onto the floor by your feet.

he presses his lips together so he doesn’t burst out laughing, his brow raised before you narrow your eyes. it’s a challenge but you eventually bend down and get it, yeosang’s deep chuckles in the background only making you pout.

“i was gonna start helping you again but i don’t think i should,” you say, defiance and a bratty edge in your tone that he’s secretly missed. “how can you laugh at me?”

“you’re just cute, love, i’m sorry,” he smiles, walking a few steps down and pecking a kiss on your head before continuing with the third wall.

you decided on three pastel blue walls with one accent wall of wallpaper, a mural of animals and pretty landscape where you’ll eventually put the baby’s name.

“we still have to decide on a name, you know,” you hum softly, looking around the room.

it stills fills you with a little disbelief that this is what you guys are preparing for, talking about a name for your child and preparing a room for the baby that’s quickly gonna make their appearance into the world.

“i know,” he smiles softly, eyes roaming your face to see it’s calm and tranquil. his number one goal during these past months was to keep you as calm and content as possible, the shaky start to the pregnancy still making him feel guilty.

he turns back to continue the last bit of paint, eyes tired and body aching from hours of painting up and down the walls. you insisted that they hire someone, knowing you wouldn’t be that much help, but he thought this was better.

because similar to you, he couldn’t help but think back to when you painted his pool house together.

when you two were just starting out and he was every bit as nervous and unfamiliar as you. he didn’t think he was deserving of you but he took you anyway, unable to control the feeling in his chest or overwhelmingly desire to see you.

watch your reactions and how you talk to him, even if most of the time you were yelling or rolling your eyes.

“this looks like the same blue we painted the pool house, no?” he asks suddenly, your head snapping up before a smile lights up your face.

you knew he probably remembered the date but you weren’t sure if he’d been thinking the same thing today too.

“it does,” you smile, walking over and picking up your paintbrush. you dip it in the tray and watch the bristles absorb the pretty blue, peeking up at him to see his eyebrows pinched in concentration.

“i think i like this one a little bit better though.”

“me too,” he hums back, a smile on his face that makes your heart jump.

he finishes the wall a few moments later, you still brushing the paint through the tray absentmindedly. his presence in front of you halts your movements, his hand reaching down to help you up gently.

you giggle and immediately accept his hand, pecking his lips as you apologize for not doing more.

“stop,” he chastises, voice soft and sweet as he places a gentle peck on your nose. “you didn’t have to do anything, i just wanted you with me.”

“yeah?” you quip softly, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth as you stare up at him. his eyes darken ever so slightly and you have to resist the urge to laugh, tightening your hold on the paintbrush hidden behind your back.

“mhm,” he hums lowly, his paint-covered hand reaching out to hold your cheek. “are you hungry? i can make you something or we can-”

and even despite his sweet words and even sweeter intentions, it doesn’t stop you from reaching out and smearing the paintbrush across his cheek.

and that's how the first tragedy started, you so boldly dipping your finger in the tray and poking two blue dots on his face.

he stared at you in shock for a second, like he was trying to decipher if you really just did that, while you held back the laugh desperate to bubble out of your chest.

"you didn't."

"i did," you say playfully, "and it shut you up for a few seconds so i just might do it-"

roller in hand, he's quick to smear it over your entire cheek, wet paint grazing your skin and the stray hairs that have fallen out of your bun. your gasp and open-mouthed stare causes his deep chuckle to echo through the pool-house, a sound so foreign to those walls.

"you got my whole face!" you yelp, holding your own roller out like it's a weapon. "i did two little specks on your cheek."

"two specks too many and now you look ridiculous. so i hope you're hap-"

you quickly roll the paint over both his cheeks now, first the right then the left, before dropping it in the pan and running over to the safe zone in the kitchen.

a smile crosses your face as you look at him with a giggle, the boy just standing there in disbelief before his neck snaps up to look at you.

"you're done," is all you hear his deep voice say, the dark teasing causing excitement to run through you until you see him going over to pick up the roller you dropped.

he only stares at you in shock for a few seconds, eyes flashing and face twisting before he shakes his head and grabs onto your waist tightly.

“you’re done.”

you shake your head as a teasing smile makes it way across your face, attempting to run out of the nursery to prevent another paint tragedy from occurring.

but he catches you gently around the waist before you can get further, his arms quickly scooping you up. he plops you down on the couch despite your protests, watching with soft amusement as you giggle and shake your head rapidly.

the rest of the night goes by in a flurry of teasing from him and giggles from you, sharing pizza and soda before it feels as if you hadn’t slept in hours; but this was one of the first days you’ve gone without a nap, your body on top of yeosang despite the ever-present fear you’re gonna crush him.

“if- if i get too heavy, just tell me to get off,” you mumble tiredly, your legs between his as your head rests on his chest.

he chuckles lightly against your head, wrapping his arms around your back and tightening his hold on you immediately.

“that’ll never happen,” he mumbles against your head, feeling your smile against his chest before your breaths even out and you’re fast asleep.

seven months:

it was at this point in the pregnancy you felt as if the happy glow was wearing off.

your stomach was huge, your back was aching, and any time you looked in the mirror, it’s like you didn’t recognize yourself.

your body wasn’t your body anymore and even your face looked different, cheeks fatter and nose wider in a way that, tonight in particular, was getting to you.

“he hates me. i know he does,” you cry out, mingi and yunho looking at you like you’ve grown five heads.

because after you slightly burnt the cookies in the oven you’d been craving, yeosang out with wooyoung and san helping them set up apartment furniture, you’d been on a hormonal, downward spiral since.

you felt big and ugly and undesirable.

you felt as if you looked miserable and depressed and like you didn’t wanna be a mother at all.

you felt like yeosang didn’t love you anymore, sick of doting on you and putting up with your naps and every thing else you’ve annoyed him with for the past seven months.

“i hate the guy most days, y/n, but i can tell you right now he loves you more than anyone else in the world. it’s the only reason i haven’t actually beat his ass.”

yunho lets out a snort, less at mingi’s words and more so at picturing his sweet fiancé beating someone up. but when the boy shoots his head toward him, he sends a smile and nod his way.

“mingi’s right, babe. he could absolutely beat him up and he hasn’t. because we know how much he loves you.”

“he might love me but he doesn’t like me,” you whine, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to overflow.

usually, the second these two boys see you on the verge of tears, they hate it. will do everything in their power to stop it because they hate seeing you so sad and upset.

but this is making them almost wanna laugh, knowing the hormones that come with the later part of the pregnancy can be very daunting.

“he likes you and he loves you, y/n, i can promise you that,” yunho says, the smile on his face making you pull your eyebrows together and let out more cries.

it’s upon yeosang opening the door a few moments later that yunho and mingi shoot up, rushing toward the boy who looks at them in surprise.

“what the-”

“she’s been crying all day and thinks you hate her.”

“actually, she thinks you love her but don’t like her,” mingi whispers, yeosang’s face twisting into one of confusion.

but before he can ask them to explain, or ask what the hell you even meant by that, he hears cries coming from the couch that have him rushing over before the two boys can say anything else.

“hey, my love. what’s wrong?” he asks, plopping down next to you and pulling you into him.

you slump against him immediately, missing him and his warmth despite the fact he was only gone for a few hours; you were usually clingy and needy at night but it appeared to get worse these days.

you only slump against him and shake your head, suddenly embarrassed and upset and just wanting everything to be over. you just want this baby out of you already, you want your body back to normal and you want to stop feeling like this some days.

the faint sound of the front door closing goes unheard by both of you, yeosang’s arm around you and your head on his chest before he pulls back and looks down at you.

“why’d they tell me you were crying all day?” yeosang questions softly, a frown on his face because the thought physically pains him. “and why do you think i don’t like you? i love you, baby.”

“i know.... i know you love me but i don’t think you like me anymore,” you whine, a smirk threatening to take over his face.

but he knows the last thing to do in front of a pregnant, hormonal woman is to laugh in the face of her emotional breakdown. so instead, he remains soft and gentle, pulling you on top of him and brushing his fingers through your hair as you whimper into him.

“i’m so sick of being pregnant, yeosang. i just feel like i’ve been annoying and tired and sleeping all day. i’m so big and ugly and my face has changed and i-”

“stop.”

his voice is deep and harsh and immediate, the command in his voice that you know means there will be no exceptions.

he sees your eyebrows pulled together in protest, his face softening before he cups yours and gently caresses your skin; he knows he can’t imagine how tiresome it is to go through this process but he also knows by no means are you ugly or incapable of doing this.

“i know you’re tired of this, baby, and i’m sorry. but you’re not ugly. you couldn’t be ugly if you tired, pretty girl,” he says, the pout on your lips making him smile and press a kiss on your mouth.

“and you gotta eat to keep my child healthy and strong, no?” he asks, his eyebrow raised as his hands lower to your round stomach.

he thought the transformation was amazing actually, what the human body could do and watching you become like this just to fit something he put inside you.

“so if you weren’t getting bigger, we’d be having problems. you’re doing so good, baby, you really are. and you’re gonna be such a good mom, too. you only have a little bit more to get through, okay?”

his words calm you as much as they make your heart flutter, the tears now swarming in your eyes one from happiness.

“so you do like me?”

and he didn’t expect that to be the next thing you say after that, a deep chuckle bubbling from his mouth that makes a wet giggle leave your own.

“yes, baby. i like you.”

eight months:

you thought nothing was gonna beat the panic you felt when you first found out you were pregnant.

your shaking hands and pounding heart and the overwhelming fear that you and yeosang weren’t gonna be able to get through this.

now, though, the fears feel much more real and much more terrifying.

knowing that, in just a month, a third person is gonna be a part of your little family. someone you’re gonna be completely and solely responsible for, making sure their needs are met and you raise them to be a good human being.

and it’s really hitting you tonight, after some mild cramping landed you in the doctor’s office where you were assured it was just your body’s response in preparing for labor.

but that was enough to completely scare you. leave you silent on the car ride home with your sweaty palm in yeosang’s and your mind racing a mile a minute.

“you’re quiet,” yeosang hums softly, the air between you thick as his thumb caresses your hand.

he felt a similar surge of panic rush through him when you told him about the mild discomfort in your stomach, all but jumping up and out the door to get you to the doctor immediately.

you make a noise of approval in the back of your throat, the only response other than the way you tighten in his hand in yours.

because right now, with all of these racing thoughts, you just wanna stop.

stop thinking about everything that could go wrong in the next month, the pain of labor and dealing with a newborn.

you wanna stop thinking about you and yeosang not handling the transition well, lashing out at each other after sleepless nights full of the baby’s crying as you try trying to adjust to this new life.

your walk up to the apartment is silent as well, going right into your room and plopping face down on the cold sheets.

the bed dips a few moments later and you make a tired groan when yeosang drags you up toward the pillows, placing you in front of him before leaning you back.

your back rests on his front for a few calming moments, his hands rubbing slowly over your stomach in a way he’s gotten used to over these past few days.

the moment you told him you had cramps, you weren’t surprised when he started doing that.

there hasn’t been a moment throughout this pregnancy when he wasn’t comforting you or assuring you in some way. holding your hand or stroking your hair and just making sure at all times, you were feeling happy and healthy.

but now it’s like you’re so beyond that point, tired and frustrated and just feeling so anxious about what’s to come.

“are you scared for her to come?”

yeosang’s hands stop on your stomach when he hears you utter those words, shifting your body until you’re sitting in front of him.

your eyes are wide and glossy and he can’t help but smile at how pretty you look, taking your face in his hands gently.

“of course i am,” he says honestly, not wanting to sugar coat anything or lie to you. “but i’m also excited to meet her. we’re as prepared as we can be, right? so we’ll just have to figure it out one day at a time.”

“i know,” you sigh out, that piece of advice everyone in your life is telling you. to take the early challenges of motherhood one day at a time; but you think it’s easier said than done, especially with a month left to just sit here and dwell on things.

“but i don’t know.... are we really ready? we’re not even married, yeosang. what if everyone at the hospital is like.... yikes.”

a snort leaves his mouth that he couldn’t hold back, not liking to laugh at the comments and exaggerations you make these days but sometimes not being able to help it.

“again, baby, if you wanna get married right now, i’ll go out and get a ring. but otherwise, no one is gonna say shit.”

“that’s not why i said it,” you whine, pushing him playfully and cracking a smile at his deep chuckle. “i’m just... scared about a lot of things again, yeosang. it was nice in, like, the middle of this. and it didn’t seem too bad. but now it’s all feeling very real again and i....i don’t know if i’ll be able to do it.”

“of course you’ll be able to do it,” yeosang mumbles softly, his fingers tracing shapes on your shoulder. “you made it this far, baby, and you’ve been doing so good. i already told mi that you’re gonna be better at this than me.”

a smile lights up your face as you hear him say your daughter’s name aloud, the long winded decision in picking your child’s name finally coming to an end last week.

you both had gone back and forth about what kind of names you wanted, discussing meanings and how it sounded and voting out what you absolutely didn’t want.

jang-mi was the name yeosang suggested that you immediately loved, could see it fitting right next to yours on a christmas card or shouting it through the apartment when she’s a crazy toddler.

“that’s funny because i told her the same thing,” you chuckle out quietly, letting out a sigh as you roll over and curl into him.

you were soaking in the bath one morning, all but demanding yeosang to sleep in one weekend when you felt her kicking inside you.

the first time you felt it all a few months ago, you remember nearly yelping. alarming yeosang to the severest degree and watching him rush into the living room to see you staring at him shock.

but he was just as fascinated and happy as you, feeling kicks from inside your stomach as prove that there really was a baby growing in there.

you’d gotten used to it though, every time you felt it talking to her quietly or giggling at the sensation.

telling her how excited you are to meet her despite your nerves, sharing stories or readings books and just informing her of the true chaos she’s gonna encounter with her father and uncles.

“i already know mingi’s gonna try to be strict with you but i think you’ll have him wrapped around your finger the tightest,” you predicted, above all else excited to see him interact with a baby.

“and your daddy’s gonna act like he doesn’t know what he’s doing or is bad at it. but i think he’ll be a lot better at this than me, jang-mi. he acts tough and strong and mean but he’s... the best man ever. and i’m happy he’s your dad.”

yeosang doesn’t have the heart to tell you he heard you in the bath that day, remembering how quickly tears were in his eyes and he was, for a brief moment, the happiest he’d ever felt in his life.

“then maybe we’ll both do a good job,” he hums quietly, already knowing full well that, whatever happens, she’s gonna have you both wrapped around her finger.

nine months:

your water broke two weeks early and nothing could have prepared you for the terror of that moment.

how one second, you were walking in the coffee shop with mingi and yunho and the next, wetness poured down your legs and onto the floor below you. the inside of your pink maternity dress was sticking uncomfortably, a confused expression overtaking your face.

“uhhh, guys...”

“i think i’m gonna get a scone,” yunho says, looking up at the menu despite going here for years.

“no, get the cookies again.”

“you never eat them, babe, why would we-”

“guys...”

“doesn’t he never eat the cookies, y/n?” yunho asks, his head turning to side-eye you before he notices your look of discomfort. “what’s wrong?”

and it’s at that that mingi turns his head, looking over your face before catching the wetness on your dress and at your feet. he looks from the floor to you several times, like he’s trying to put two and two together before his mouth hangs open almost comically.

but because he’s mingi, you should’ve known the words leaving his mouth were gonna be even more funny, even if you didn’t think it at the time.

“did you just piss?”

it’s yunho’s delayed realization that kicks everything into gear, his hand bouncing off mingi’s head before he exclaims that your water just broke.

excitement and shock and even a little bit of chaos erupts throughout the coffee shop in the minutes after, strangers asking if they could help and the barista’s you’ve come to know clapping their hands and looking on excitedly.

“call yeosang,” yunho says, flagging down a taxi just as the fear and anticipation start to build in you.

he answers on the 2nd ring when he sees mingi’s name pop up, knowing full well that the boy was spending the day with you; because he was actually guilty in demanding, with the due date just around the corner, that someone was with you at all times.

“hello?”

“yeosang...”

he doesn’t know how but the second he hears your voice, he can just tell something’s not right.

“what happened? is everything okay?”

you lick over your lips anxiously, knowing for the past nine months you guys have been both terrified and waiting for this day. just a few (or many) hours away from meeting your daughter.

“she’s coming.”

the line goes silent for a few moments, just the sound of his breathing before he starts to shuffle and rush toward his boss’s office.

you’re so lost in his words, assuring you that everything will be fine and that he’ll see you soon, you miss yunho and mingi share big smiles with one another, the former excitedly mouthing “it’s a girl,” just as the taxi pulls up to bring you to the hospital.

part 5

tag list: @mirror-juliet @toffee-hwa @valhoez @miatsubaki23 @mydaintydaisy @treasurehwa @markleeyeosang

#my laptop broke so i unfourt cant edit this #dont come 4 me #yeosang #yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #yeosang smut #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez angst #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

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It's Nilnaea and I have a great angst idea. What if Sophie went to the Forbidden Cities and saw Amy, but Amy was already in her 30s/40s and didn't remember Sophie anymore? This would tie in with a theory I have that the Lost Cities exists outside the scope of time. So, for example, one year in the Lost Cities could be ten years in the Forbidden Cities. This is a thing that happens in fairy stories. I listened to a podcast once about Irish folklore where a king went off to a fairy place, and when he came back, decades had passed.

Anyway, Sophie would see Amy who has a wife and ten dogs and is simultaneously 'I could've had that' and 'I need to keep the world safe so Amy doesn't lose what she has'. And it kind of sinks in that she no longer has any ties to the human world and that those who remembered her from school, etc., declared her a cold case because she was never found. And in a way she becomes more like a fairy creature and untethered to the world. I think it is very interesting.

one word: yes. this hurts and I love it and desperately want it.

also I love messing with time!! All the implications and devastation it can wreak...so good. In one of my oc stories time and messing with time plays a huge role, part of why I've been avoiding working on it for so long because I need to thoroughly plan everything from the beginning; i could take it in a go with the flow approach, but that wouldn't have the same effect that I want. but that's besides the point--I love it when time doesn't align!!

Amy forgetting Sophie would hurt her so much, but I think deep down she might be like. Okay. This was how everything was supposed to be. I wasn't supposed to be part of their world and now i'm not and I can leave them. But there would be so much despair and angst wrapped up in that!!

I've seen it happen a few times in faerie stories (probably not that specific podcast, though), but I think most of the one's i've seen have the character come out after everyone is dead or elderly (It's been a while since I read a story like this so I don't remember). And that way there's no lingering connection--they may see the descendants of people they used to know and recognize features, but it's not the people they know. So having Amy be middle aged...that's a person that's still going to exist for a while. And that's her person. That the sister she grew up with--and then there's the element of her realizing she'll never get to grow old like that! I don't know if she'd mourn the idea of growing old, but more so the idea of normalcy it promises. Because people who grow old are safe. People who grow up are the people who survive. And Amy gets to be one of them without any threats anymore.

Don't mind me, just gonna internally scream (/pos) about the idea of Sophie becoming more inhuman. I love inhuman things so much!! I know this would be painful for her because all she ever wanted was acceptance and it's becoming less and less attainable, but I can't help but be a little excited about the idea.

Sophie had so few ties to the human world in the first place that I imagine loosing the one she had left would be devastating. Before she knew she was an elf she had her family--that was really it. She didn't have any friends, didn't have any concrete plans for the future or any interests. And then she lost the connection to her whole family--but then she got Amy back. But loosing Amy again...I think it would really sink in for her then that she wasn't human.

Repeatedly throughout the series she struggles to use the "right" language, referring to elves as other because she doesn't see herself as one of them. I don't think she saw herself as fully human ever, but I think that was closer than being an elf. And now it's farther away. Now she realizes that she never was close to human, she was just emotionally close to one human and couldn't let her go. I just think it'd be an interesting mental shift for her to have!

also I hope Amy and her wife and ten dogs are having a splendid time wherever they are. I personally choose to believe that Amy's wife is a scientist. Why? No idea. But it's such a sweet idea for them to have a little life together. So good!!

#sophie *handshake emoji* me: not thinking of yourself as human #though she'd be a lot sadder about it than I am #inhuman things make my brain very excited #monsters my beloved <33 #I know sophie and elves in general aren't monsters it just relates to the topi #*topic #but I love this idea!!#i know it's angst but I'm excited about it despite that #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #quil's queries #nilnaea nonsie #sophie foster

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mst3kproject · 3 years

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The Neanderthal Man

Since I'm taking a break from fishmen, I might as well let Bigfoot catch up a bit. The Neanderthal Man isn't exactly a Bigfoot movie, but it’s along the same lines and its entire starring cast has MST3K pedigrees. Robert Shayne was in Indestructible Man and Teenage Caveman. Richard Crane was Rocky Jones, Space Ranger! Beverly Garland was in Swamp Diamonds and Gunslinger. Even the composer, Albert Glasser, wrote music for Invasion USA, Last of the Wild Horses, and almost all of MST3K’s Bert I. Gordon movies.

Some little mountain town in the middle of the Sierras (which the Portentous 50's Narrator takes some trouble to tell us is a primeval place where 'the defacing hand of civilization has fallen but lightly') is having a rash of saber-toothed tiger sightings! At first these are laughed off, but when the game warden himself sees one cross the road in the middle of the night, it's time to do something about it. The warden shows a cast pawprint to Dr. Ross Harkness in Los Angeles, who is interested enough to come up and see for himself. Local Mad Scientist Dr. Groves pooh-poohs the whole thing, which is enough to tell me that we're not dealing with a local cryptid here. Somebody is making prehistoric monsters.

So... I may not have actually run out of movies, but I seem to be running out of plots, because this is a remarkably similar movie to Monster on the Campus. The major difference between the two films is that Dr. Blake turned himself into a caveman by accident, while Dr. Groves here is doing it on purpose.

Another difference is that Monster on the Campus' story, while silly, was linear – events escalated in a way that felt logical, and there were reasons why things happened when and where they did. By contrast, The Neanderthal Man feels like a first draft. At the beginning of the film, we're dealing with the saber-toothed tigers that Groves has been creating by injecting cats with his de-evolution serum. We hear about these slaughtering game and livestock, and it seems like only a matter of time before they move on to human beings. The beginning of the film is quite upfront about the fact that Groves is responsible, too, as it is only mildly mysterious in its depiction of one of the creatures escaping his lab.

Sometimes the saber-tooths are represented by an actual tiger, usually filmed from behind or at a great distance so nobody has to put the prosthetic teeth on it. They do have prosthetic teeth, but they're only visible in a couple of shots. Imagine being at a bar and some guy tells you his job is sticking fake fangs on real tigers for a caveman movie! For close-ups, there's a hilarious puppet head that looks like the sort of thing you'd see mounted on a frat house wall as a joke. The director had the sense not to linger on this in motion shots, but later we see still photographs Groves has supposedly taken of his experimental subjects and they're even stupider-looking than we imagined.

Anyway, this goes on for a while with rising action, as the game warden goes to get Harkness and they manage to shoot one of the animals, only to have it vanish from the kill site when they try to show it to Groves (the movie never bothers to explain how that happened, incidentally. The ending suggests that the creatures change back when they die, but there's definitely no dead kitty cat at the scene, either). The whole movie could easily have just had the cats and their creator as the antagonists, perhaps even ending the same way as Dr. Groves proves his work to the other characters by injecting himself. That's not what happens, though. Instead, the story mostly forgets about the cats one we find out Groves has also been carrying on human experiments.

(Before himself, Groves' first experimental subject was his disabled Latina housekeeper. Another series of photos show her half-transformed into a cavewoman who for some reason is wearing drag queen false eyelashes. And as long as I'm talking about the movie being gross and bigoted, there's a bit where a woman is violently raped. This happens off camera, but the audience is not allowed to entertain any illusions about it.)

The problem is that before we see him give himself an injection in the arm, we have had absolutely no indication that Groves has been giving his serum to anything besides the cats! Cats are stealthy, cryptic creatures and if one of those has been seen wandering around killing things, then surely a full-on caveman beating people to death would not be able to stay out of sight! If what we were seeing were the first time Groves had tried the formula on himself then that would be an explanation, but his notes reveal that he's been doing it for so long that he's on the verge of losing control of the transformation and permanently reverting to a pre-human status, as indeed he does for the climax. Much like the stupid dinosaur in The Beast of Hollow Mountain, the movie's main monster is given no build-up whatsoever!

There's worse yet, though. The main characters, Dr. Harkness and Groves' daughter Jan, are barely involved in the 'caveman' part of the plot. They get phone calls about the various murders that Groves is committing in caveman form, and they snoop around the lab to figure out things the audience already knows. The same story could have been told without them, perhaps with the game warden and the hunter as protagonists, and it would probably have been more interesting. The script also repeatedly has Dr. Groves wander in and bluster about how the tiger sightings are hallucinations and tall tales, which seems a little unnecessary when we already know he's responsible. The film-makers can't seem to decide whether they want us to know that or not.

Dr. Groves wears glasses. Maybe the reason his primitive alter-ego is angry and breaking shit (although it does politely open and close the window it climbs out of, which made me laugh) is because it can't see. This is also my theory about why the Hulk smashes, and what do you know? In Avengers Endgame he's got Hulk-sized spectacles and only smashes when he's told!

The direction of The Neanderthal Man can probably best be described as 'serviceable'. It shows us what's going on, but doesn't particularly add anything to the proceedings. The 'Neanderthal' mask is immobile and uninteresting, not much better than somebody's Party City Sasquatch costume. Even the eyes are just painted on, meaning the poor guy in the costume can’t do much because he can’t see where he’s going.

The dialogue is often very strange, with characters talking like they're in a Jules Verne novel. If only one person did this, it might seem like a character quirk – it works for Dr. Groves, for example – but it's everybody. Seeing the cat carcass is gone, Harkness declares, “I refuse to believe in the supernatural! There must be some logical cause and effect to this unholy adventure!” Groves' fiancee Ruth berates him for ignoring her, saying, “I want you, the man I once knew! The good companion, the cheerful friend. I want the happiness we once found in each other.” It's bizarre to listen to, and often audibly awkward for the actors.

Monster on the Campus was kind of trying to be about how humanity must choose to evolve away from our inner savage, although the finale didn't bear that out. There's a scene in The Neanderthal Man in which this movie seems to be trying to go in the opposite direction, saying that we were never savage to begin with. Dr. Groves is speaking to a panel of scientists about the size of the brain in various 'primitive' species of human. He points out that by the time we reached Homo erectus we were already working with four times the cerebral jelly of a chimpanzee, and argues that our ancestors would have been recognizably human in their behaviour and problem-solving capacity.

(Amusingly, his chart of human evolution includes Piltdown Man, which was proven to be a hoax literally a few months after this movie's release. What makes this even more tragic for the writers is that their list of primitive humans seems to be the only place where they actually did any research.)

The problem with Dr. Groves' theory is that he already knows it's wrong. We soon learn that he's been experimenting on himself with his serum for a while already, and his notes show that he knows very well he regresses into a near-mindless animal. The movie does not even try to reconcile these ideas. If Groves were continuing his experiments in the hope that perfecting his serum would give him a more accurate reconstruction of ancient man, that would be one thing, but the script never goes there.

So now that we've had two 'man turns into caveman by injecting science juice' movies, of course I have to ask which one is better. Monster on the Campus wasn't a good movie but it was definitely an improvement on The Neanderthal Man in several respects, and although I don't have any way to find out for certain, I suspect it was an intentional remake. It's definitely more entertaining and gets bonus points for including the Meganeura dragonfly, but nothing in it is nearly as funny as The Neanderthal Man's fake tiger head. I guess if you're gonna watch one or the other, stick to Monster on the Campus, but if you're gonna watch both, start with The Neanderthal Man and do them in chronological order, the better to spot the inspirations and references.

Before I go, a fun paleontology fact: current thinking is that the saber-toothed cat's eponymous fangs actually didn't show when it had its mouth closed! There are zero cave paintings or ancient sculptures of a saber-tooth cat with teeth visible, and when scientists looked at the structure of the enamel in the canines, it suggested that in life the teeth were hidden by big, fleshy, St Bernard jowls. Google 'smilodon lips' and behold how this looks fully three hundred percent more ridiculous than you're imagining. I love nature.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the neanderthal man #tw: rape #50s #curiously caucasian cavepeople

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

GLOW (one-shot)

Part of the Stray Wolves Series

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Changbin (SKZ)

Warnings: language, smut, some dirty talk, mentions of knotting, and there’s fluff at the end because I can’t help myself

Genre: Werewolf AU; Marriage AU; Sequel

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Changbin was rather overprotective of their unborn pups, but Y/N knew that he was just doing his best for his future family. However, she still has those days where she misses their nights of intimacy, and Y/N might have a few tricks up her sleeve when it comes to seducing her hesitant mate.

It was too early in the morning to deal with the dawning sunlight penetrating the floral curtains in my bedroom. I was certain that the outside world had decided to disturb the lingering effects of slumber that refused to let me open my eyes. I tried to ignore the natural alarm clock, burying myself closer against my mate as he slept next to me. For whatever reason, Changbin had figured out a way to block out the effects of the morning sun, even as the angle drew waves of light across the room.

There was only so much that my sensitive eyesight could take before I was forced to abandon the prospect of more sleep. And I thought that it was unfair that Changbin should continue to sleep peacefully while I suffered alone. “Binnie,” I whispered, clinging almost desperately to Changbin’s outstretched limbs. I mostly blamed the pregnancy hormones because every active instinct was begging me for Changbin’s attention.

“Y/N?” Changbin answered groggily, voice thick with sleep as he squinted his eyes to look at me. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, letting him know that it wasn’t a big deal. “Hormones.”

“Yeah?” Changbin replied with a chuckle, using one strong arm to drag me even closer.

I allowed him the close contact, enjoying the calming warmth emanating from his bare chest. It might’ve been a simple solution to my morning light predicament, especially when Changbin started to brush his fingers through my hair in a gentle rhythm. My eyelids fluttered in delight, hands finding purchase against his smooth skin. But when Changbin started to move himself into an upright position, I immediately released a pathetic whine, clawing at him to return next to my side. “What are you doing?”

“I’m scheduled for a hunting patrol,” Changbin replied, and he easily unwound my arms from around his trim waistline. And I gave up on any attempts that could’ve convinced him to return to our shared bed, finding a comfortable position on my back as I clung to the remnants of sleep. However, when I approached the precipice of unconsciousness once again, something cold and wet touched my arm, and I groaned in complaint when I realized that it was Changbin’s nose. I studied him from my vulnerable state as my mate somehow managed to crawl over top of me.

“Changbin,” I whined, feeling pressured from the overbearing warmth of his upper body as he sniffed across my stomach. “You’re gonna get them all riled up!”

“How are they?” he asked, with just a faint hint of a soothing purr at the back of his throat. The question itself was in reference to our unborn pups, growing each day as we progressed closer to my due date.

They must’ve been able to detect the presence of their father, moving uncomfortably inside as I squirmed around on the bed. “The pups are fine,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully when Changbin pressed a hand to the swell of my stomach.

His smile was contagious, eyes bright with pride as he felt the evidence of the little pups. “What about you?” Changbin asked, looking up at me with the dark eyes that I adored.

“Well, let’s see.” I grinned. “The morning sickness is there, and I feel bloated and sore and strangely horny...”

Changbin scoffed, sitting back on his haunches. “I can’t do much about the first two.”

“Oh?” I asked, feeling the familiar coils of desire lighting themselves from somewhere deep inside of me. “And the third?”

Changbin smirked before he crawled off the bed, leaving me to whine after him. “What am I supposed to do when I’m scheduled to hunt?”

“You can still give me your cock,” I said, and my mouth started watering at the prospect, eyeing the familiar bulge in his dark pants.

“Shameless,” he remarked, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of my head before he started for the door. “I’m leaving, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I huffed, watching Changbin until the door blocked him from my line of vision.

In the meantime, I was left to my own devices, and I found myself in good company with a close friend. Even though Chan’s mate was younger than me, I still enjoyed her comforting presence when there wasn’t much for me to handle during my pregnancy. Despite my wolf’s desire to run out into the woods and explore the territory, I was forced to withhold those urges and keep myself inside the camp. But at least I could still try to prove useful, stitching together a sweater for my unborn pup while Chan’s mate regaled me with stories of the outside world.

“That looks...interesting?” she offered once I held up the pathetic excuse for a sweater that I had just made. It turned out that my stitching skills needed more work.

“I wanted to make them something nice,” I pouted, studying the intricate sweater design and wondering where I had went wrong.

“It takes time,” she said, and I knew that it was only an attempt to make me feel better.

“Well, I have plenty of that,” I muttered, and I found my wandering gaze searching a returning patrol because I missed the familiar freedom of shifting.

Chan’s mate seemed to notice the change in my mood, offering me a helping hand as we both stood up together. “Why don’t we go to the nursery?” she suggested. “We can visit some of the younger pups.”

I nodded at the idea, brightening at the prospect. “I’d love that.”

She giggled, offering me an arm to assist me as we made our way to the other side of the camp where the nursery was carefully maintained. It provided the most protection, especially during times of potential conflict, and we nodded at our pack mates who were guarding the entrance, receiving polite bows in return. After all, we were the mates of our pack’s alpha and beta, which meant a lot considering the reliance that we had on hierarchies.

However, I still wasn’t used to seeing my pack mates show me that kind of respect, and I almost resented my position. But in any case, I was relieved to distract my thoughts with the overwhelming sweet smell of milk, and I couldn’t resist cooing at the sight of the little pups playing at the center of the room. It was definitely post-naptime for most of them, and I smiled as they shifted at whim, colliding together as they wore off their accumulated energy.

“Y/N,” one of the mothers greeted me, beckoning me closer while she held a tiny pup in her arms.

“Hello,” I said, lowering my voice so as not to startle the small pup.

“I can’t believe Changbin let you wander around the camp,” she joked, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Cabin fever,” I offered in return, and she laughed before nodding down at the pup who was looking at me with wide eyes.

“This is my daughter,” she said. “I think she likes you.”

“Really?” I asked, crossing my legs underneath me as I settled down on the floor. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The younger pup whined, but looked to her mother for guidance. “Go ahead! You can talk to Y/N.”

The pup still hesitated before leaving the safety of her mother’s arms to stand in front of me. “Hi.”

I smiled at the pup’s timid voice, and I instinctually smoothed a hand down the front of my stomach. “Would you like to feel them?” I asked, and younger pup nodded as I led her hand to my stomach.

At the first kick she felt, the pup immediately jumped back, holding her hand close to her chest as she looked at me with wide eyes. “Did you feel that?” I asked, and she nodded. “Those are my pups.”

There was a little gasp from the younger girl, and she looked positively mystified at the interesting development. Meanwhile, I noticed that a familiar scent had permeated the milky smell of the nursery, and I didn’t even need to turn around to notice Changbin’s return. “I helped make them,” Changbin added with a proud smile.

“Don’t say that,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I shot the pup’s mother an apologetic look.

“It’s fine,” the mother assured me, and she opened her arms for the curious little pup who didn’t hesitate to snuggle close.

“She’s beautiful,” I told her, and she nodded in gratitude. “Changbin,” I finally said, turning around to look at my mate. “I thought you were busy.”

“The patrol ended early,” Changbin explained. “We found a lot of prey by the riverside.”

“Oh?” I grinned, holding out my hand for him, which my mate didn’t hesitate to accept. “Does this mean we can go back to the cabin and cuddle?”

Changbin laughed at my request, but his hand was firm around my waist as we both waved at Chan’s mate who was still busy playing with a rambunctious group of older pups. “Whatever you want,” Changbin said, burying his nose close to my scent gland. “But first, we need to find you something to eat.”

I groaned at that idea because my appetite had been all over the place since the start of my pregnancy. But I knew that I couldn’t skip another meal, so I allowed Changbin to dote on me, finding us something delicious as we settled next to our pack mates in the communal dining room. It was comfortable and nice, and I kept my hand wrapped around Changbin’s as I answered questions about my unborn pups, feeling my wolf’s satisfaction at having the ones she loved so close where she liked them the most.

Later that night, Changbin and I returned to our shared cabin. As the pack Beta, our living quarters were located close to the alpha’s, and we enjoyed the privacy of the secluded living arrangements. Because when we first mated, Changbin and I often snuck away to our cabin throughout the day, unable to keep our hands to ourselves.

I considered those instances as part of the “honeymoon” phase of our relationship, and I sometimes longed for the intimacy that we shared. Unfortunately, Changbin had decided that we both needed to remain celibate during my pregnancy, for reasons that defied my rational understanding. Of coure, I was also convinced that he still liked to tease me on purpose. For example, I bit my lower lip to keep myself from moaning at the sight of Changbin re-emerging from our shared bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. And I took a deep breath, smoothing my hand down my stomach. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” Changbin said, reaching for a pair of loose black pants. I watched him drop his towel with a heavy exhale.

“What did Chan say about his meeting with the Vampire King?” I asked.

“I think it’s a territorial dispute,” Changbin said, and he sounded perfectly nonchalant, matching the easy way that he was tying the drawstring of the same pants that were hugging his outline of his ass.

“So, everything is good?” I asked, studying the delicious lines of his muscles as he started walking towards the bed.

"We’ll have it sorted out,” Changbin said, and he smiled at me before brushing a gentle kiss across my lips.

I moaned at the taste of him, and it was the opportunity that I had been looking for after all this time, tightening one of my hands against the back of his neck to hold him close. Changbin released a noise of surprise, and I used the advantage to run my tongue across the seam of his lips. Because the sensation was addictive, and it had been a while since I kissed Changbin like this.

“Y/N,” Changbin whispered, breaths heavy as he kissed me in return, passionate and sensual exchanges of oxygen and the warm, wet sensation of his tongue against mine.

“Please, Changbin,” I whined, palming at his cock while giving him a look that I hoped he wouldn’t be able to resist.

He sighed in response, settling down next to me on the bed. “Y/N,” he repeated, and I could see the familiar doubt reflecting heavy in his gaze. “What if I hurt them?” Changbin asked, hesitating even as his cock started to fill out the impressive bulge in his black pants.

“Come on!” I groaned, throwing one of my legs over his hip to leisurely grind my wet heat against his erection. “I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.”

I traced my hands along the smooth contours of his chest, looking into his eyes while tweaking one of his nipples. “Hey!” Changbin protested, and I grinned in response before sucking on the sensitive peak.

I pulled off with an obscene pop, tracing my lower lip with my tongue. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want it.”

I traced the outline of his cock to prove my point, tightening the fabric to create an obscene image. “Seriously, Changbin? How many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay? I’m ready to beg at this point.”

“Y/N.” Changbin sighed, closing his eyes and throwing back his head while I continued to stroke him through his pants. Soft, seductive touches, and I successfully bunched the fabric of his pants separating the two of us before adding pressure to his sensitive cockhead. Changbin moaned in response, eyes flying open as he looked at me with nothing but pure lust reflected in his delicate orbs.

I released a breathy gasp when he abruptly switched our positions, using his strength to crawl over me with a smirk. “Was I convincing?” I asked him, moaning when he started to undo the string on my shorts. The thin fabric was forced down my legs, and I watched them fall into the floor while Changbin made a show of pushing my thighs apart.

“Does this little pussy need some attention?” he asked, raising one brow while keeping his eyes fixed on mine. It was intentionally provocative, especially when his tongue made a single stripe along the crease of my labia.

“Fuck,” I cursed, reaching down for the smooth strands of his hair, holding on for dear life as my legs started shaking.

Changbin growled in response, flicking his tongue against my clitoris while his fingers parted my folds, studying my leaking cunt with unwavering focus. “You’re dripping for me,” he said, and I nodded while hooking my thighs around his hips, guiding his clothed erection against where I wanted him the most.

“Changbin,” I groaned, watching him through heavy eyes as he removed his pants and boxers, leaving him completely naked and on display for my eyes as I made a leisurely exploration of his powerful form. Nothing but raw and sensual power that I had seen for myself in his defined biceps, and I often found myself hypnotized by the thick curves that built his torso.

“I’ll give you my cock, slut,” he hissed, gripping himself at the base as he gave himself several strokes to full hardness.

I started panting when he inserted just the tip, examining my face for any sign of discomfort. “It’s fine,” I huffed, impatiently trying force myself onto his cock since he was going far too slow for my liking.

“We’ll do this at my pace,” Changbin said, and there was an undeniable command behind his words that left me whimpering. I nodded in response, doing my best to appease him, as he slowly drove his cock all the way inside until his hips were flush against mine.

“Faster,” I whispered, throwing my head back because I was feeling pleasure from my mate for the first time since I discovered that I was pregnant. At some point, a girl will start to miss moments like this, drooling into the pillow while her big, strong alpha used his cock to bring her closure to the edge. “I’m not gonna last long.”

Changbin hummed in response, reaching down to apply a powerful grip on my hips as he started moving me at his command, looking down to watch his cock penetrate the convulsing walls of my leaking pussy. There was a pleasant friction as he stretched me out around his erection, and I savored the familiar sensation that I had been denied for so long - the kind of feeling that I had discovered for myself when Changbin mated me for the first time, searing his mark into the soft flesh of my neck while he drove his cock inside at a maddening pace.

It had been so long since I had experienced the thickness of his cock, and I could feel myself growing dizzy because my body wasn’t used to the familiar coils of my orgasm building in rapid succession. I was practically choking around stuttered moans when Changbin decided to abandon his previous reservations concerning our coupling. At this point, his hips were thrusting so fast that I could hardly perceive the motion, and I could feel every inch of his thick erection sliding against my walls while his knot started to catch against my vulva.

“Shit, Y/N,” Changbin snarled, and his leaned down to inhale at my scent gland. But the change in angle was exactly what I needed, and I could feel him hitting against my g-spot over and over again when I finally released months of built-up tension in a loud moan that I could barely contain.

Changbin followed shortly thereafter, smacking hips against my ass as he lifted me higher into the air, stuffing his cock so deep that I could feel him all the way at the head of my uterus. He then came with a loud groan, sweat perspiring against the hard planes of his chest, and he pulled himself free before his knot could trap us in place.

I could feel my mouth gaping open at the sight of his knot, watching as he continued stroking himself before tapping the head of his cock against my lips. “Open up for me,” he snarled, and I instantly obeyed his order, unclenching my jaw as I widened my mouth for his cock - taking him in until the tip touched the back of my throat and I gagged because it was borderline too much. “What a good girl,” he said, and I manged to run my tongue around the bulge of his knot as it pressed against my lips - whimpering when he used me as nothing more than another hole for his cum.

And he tasted bitter when I finally swallowed, choking around most of his release because it had been a while since I had given Changbin head. However, it was worth the effort to hear his sinful moans, gasping for breath when he pulled his flaccid length from my mouth. “Y/N,” he said, and his voice was far more gentle. “Let me run you a bath.”

I nodded in response because my throat was still too sore to manage any sort of verbal confirmation. Meanwhile, Changbin chuckled at my condition, and I focused on calming my racing heart while I heard the sound of running water from our bathroom. “I just took a shower,” he remarked upon his return, and I held tightly to him when he lifted me into his arms, carrying me into the bathroom with absolute ease.

I sighed in relief when I rested my head against his chest, submerged in the warm water as our hands interlocked on top of my stomach. “When they get here,” Changbin whispered, lips tracing the shape of my ear. “I’ll do my absolute best to protect all of you.”

I smiled at the sentiment, savoring this perfect moment even though I knew that there would be many more to come.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids writer #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids one-shot #seo changbin #stray kids changbin #stray kids changbin fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #seo changbin smut

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Petrified (pt. 6)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: So, I’ve got the rest of this fic planned out which means ideally, writing the rest of it should be easier. I’m so sorry for how long it took me to finish this part, I just had to figure out where I was taking the whole story first. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

A big thank you to those few anons who so kindly sent me some inspiration for this fic. I really appreciate the help, and it greatly assisted me in forming the outline to the rest of the story <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist! Also, I’d recommend looking at the warnings listed on Ao3 for the whole fic. There’s a lot of them, and some of you might like the heads up for future chapters (it will have slight spoilers though).

5.2k words

Warnings: Reader experiences panic attacks, severe anxiety & claustrophobia, coercive behaviour

The progression of the night felt slow, but perhaps that wasn’t such a horrible thing―it allowed your mind to grow accustomed to the seemingly endless rambling of a certain blond. That, and you could appreciate the unfaltering patience of his partner, who like you listened dutifully and made the occasional response to whatever the voice hero had chosen to fixate on.

And surprisingly, the frustrating agreement you were quite literally coerced into began slipping from your recollection, at least for the moment.

You’d admit, the two men had some fairly captivating stories. It was becoming a sort of norm for you to idly exist alongside them while they spoke. As a civilian, and one with relatively no past experience when dealing with heroes or villains, you were more or less forced to let them take the reins on the back and forth between the three of you.

That is unless they wanted to talk about what flowers were best paired together, or the step by step process of tending to some particularly high maintenance plants. You assumed they didn’t, and stayed quiet in your ways.

And so time went on, you nestled into the corner of their couch in the small but comfortably furnished living room, the fuel burning fireplace giving off a warmth that settled the nerves that had been sent skyrocketing not too long ago.

For the second time that night, your eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall―6:52 pm.

In moments like these you were able to be thankful of Shouta’s perceptiveness, him following your gaze without you realizing his actions. It wasn’t until he voiced his own concerns of not wanting to keep you up too late that you had the realization of his observances.

Naturally, you had no qualms with the idea of your departure.

Hizashi wasn’t as accepting of it, being the overly affectionate person you hated him for, but he would always listen to Shouta before he did so with you. And with a stern glance and brief assurance, his own opinions gave way in favour for the erasure hero’s.

You tried insisting that calling a cab home was no issue, but you rarely got your way with the two, and tonight was not going to be an exception. That reality had you sitting in their car on the way back to your apartment, Hizashi in the driver's seat and still managing to find something to discuss. At this point you weren’t sure if you preferred the nearly deafening silence of Shouta’s company, or the never ending chatter of his partner, but that too was out of your control when you were seen off by the visibly exhausted man at the door just minutes ago, him favouring to remain home to clean up for the night.

The speakers were playing low, some unrecognizable channel broadcasting soft rock while you politely listened to Hizashi drone on as he drove the car through town. It had begun raining just before you left, the distinct but quiet noise of downpour hitting the windshield having a somewhat soothing effect.

It was greatly appreciated, when the sound of Hizashi’s voice was growing in intensity the more excited he became with the topic at hand. You didn’t have the heart to tell him to lower his tone, and so you did your best to contain any brief winces when the pitch raised just above a comfortable level.

When the sight of your apartment complex came into view through the rain splattered glass and street lights reflecting off the droplets, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lungs. Paying attention to the exuberant man after such a long and mentally tasking night was difficult, but somehow you managed to pull it off. You gave yourself some credit for surmounting the task, fully prepared to bound out of the vehicle to your awaiting bedroom the second the chance to do so arose.

The car came to a halt, Hizashi putting the gear shift into park outside the complex. You waited for the doors to unlock, getting ready to say your goodbyes.

You felt a warm hand rest atop your thigh instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Before ya get going, I just want to mention one last time that what you’re doin’ at work really isn’t the best idea, sunshine. I know, I know―you like helping people with that cute lil’ quirk of yours. It’s just the whole thing isn’t treatin’ ya very well, you can’t tell me it’s something you’re really okay with keeping up.”

The leg that wasn’t being held down by the blond’s hand bounced anxiously―the action itself unconscious, and movements small to the point where he didn’t pick up on it. His gaze was hard set on your expression, and the raw concern in his eyes was only unsettling, the exact opposite effect it should have.

Salvation was just a few metres away, but with the car doors still locked, it might as well be in another country.

Your eyes trained on the passing cars at the intersection down the street, plastering the best casual look across your face. Inwardly, you prayed he couldn’t sense the way your heart rate had picked up to a racing pace, and the somewhat unsteadiness to your breathing.

“It’s hard, but the job is all I have. Not just for money, but I really do get satisfaction out of working there. And...while this isn’t really the first time I’ve had issues because of my quirk, I can’t just let it stop me from doing what I love.”

Without even looking at him, you could tell how much he disapproved. And you didn’t need the visual confirmation when the grip on your thigh got tighter, and the noise of breathy exhale sounded off next to you. “Sunshine, you’re only hurtin’ yourself. It’s not worth it to do that over a job.”

For once your eyes met his, only for a moment, with a small and brief surge of what you think may have been confidence. Could’ve been stupidity, either way it had you replying with an edge. “You’re one to talk, don’t people like you get hurt all the time for the sake of your job?”

There was a pause, and in that silence you feared for your life.

But then the blonde gave an amused chuckle, removing the hand from your thigh to wave off your confrontational remark. “It’s different for you, I’m supposed to get hurt if it means I’ll protect someone else. And even then, I’m ready to rock with a little help from my friends. My wounds are healed and then it’s back to business―your aches are long term. And for what? Those pretty flowers are gonna die no matter what ya do, no need to put yourself through it to give them a few more days of air time, honey.”

All you could do was smile, even though the condescending attitude was killing you in more ways than one. To drive your fake expression of positivity home, you mustered that awful customer service voice that you’d summon when having to deal with some less than savoury individuals.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re right, Hizashi. It’s just...I’m really dedicated to my job, and I have been for a long time. I don’t think we’ll be able to agree on this, but that’s not a big deal.”

He gave you a lasting look, as if trying to find answers that he wouldn’t get from spoken responses. Dismissively, the blond shook his head, unlocking the passenger door. “Alright, alright. I’m not gonna change my mind on this though. And ya better hold up your end of the deal either way. I don’t think Shouta or I could take another scare from you so soon, got it?”

Oh, you heard him loud and clear.

You nodded in agreement, “Of course, thanks for the ride home. Oh―feel free to tell me if you have to cancel any of our plans if something comes up too.” Hurriedly, you were collecting your handbag that was strewn across your lap, reaching for the handle and pushing the heavy door open.

“Sure thing, hun!” Inwardly, you cringed for the thousandth time this night at his unwelcome pet names, giving a final smile before gently shutting the car door.

The sound of rain lightly coming down around you, with the damp heaviness in the air felt like an atmospheric and emotional reset. One that you needed―your pent up anxieties were ready to break through the walls you put up since the second you stepped out of your apartment. And you almost forgot about them too, the feeling of consistent dread becoming something that lingered alongside all your other emotions. It never went away, and it’s not that you stopped noticing it completely, rather you had to push it down to keep up a calm facade.

And now, you didn’t dare glance back in Hizashi’s direction as you made your way to the front entrance of the complex. Because he would see the look on your face, lower lip quivering, eyes watering and expression just barely holding it together.

The distraction of a normal conversation was ripped from your body, and the prospect of having to worry about balancing work as usual without looking like a liar came crashing down on you.

You could only hope that the walls were thick enough for your neighbours to be protected from the sounds of your sobs.

_____

Petals grew with a lively plushness, leaves sprouting a new sense of vitality. It was a beautiful display of plant life.

And you grew tired.

Your most recent purchase of concealer was doing a good job dissuading people from that fact however. Even after a long work day, it remained masking the dark circles underneath your eyes. Nothing changed for a while, except for the notion that you were getting better at keeping the drawbacks of your dedication out of the spotlight.

Arrangement after tedious arrangement, your quirk brought life back into the greenery like it always did. You only wished you felt as healthy as you looked. The sight of a blemish free and lively complexion as a result of your new makeup routine made you a little jealous, knowing the truth.

You never felt so concerned and drained over the reality of your general state before now.

Those two heroes wanted you doing what they thought was best for you, which they had no right to decide. And although you resolved in secret to simply put up a front of agreeableness, their demands still had an effect.

Paranoia was one of them.

Having them walk in on your work shift unannounced was a slim possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless. Ideally, you would save the fairly high priced makeup for those impending weekend nights spent with the two. Yet, the prospect of either of the heroes catching you off guard, and quite clearly unchanged from holding yourself back, kept you reapplying the product day after day.

You went into the ordeal with high hopes, but with each passing shift your doubts only became more incessant. Going through the motions of what was normally a mindless routine became taxing, even just days after seeing the two. And so, when the time rolled around a week later to give them what was pretty much a progress report passed off as a friendly get together, it was difficult to maintain a straight face.

No amount of astonishingly good food, or engaging stories by the fireplace could take your mind off the question that by all means should pop up.

And it did―merely proving your conceptions of what they really had in mind for nights like these. For some ungodly reason the two sought to control this part of your life, one that if it weren’t for them might not be a big issue. Without the emotional strain, your body would be able to handle the effects of utilizing your quirk in a way that was manageable.

It was their fault you felt as if the end of a work day couldn’t come sooner, and the fumes of energy you retained nearly weren’t enough to get you home each night.

And yet, as they sprung the expected question upon you, demanding to know if you were following through with your end of the ‘agreement,’ they seemed none the wiser to your blatant lies.

Well, aside from the fleeting glance Hizashi sent to Shouta, which was promptly disregarded, you’d effectively averted another crisis. It was back to settling into the background of their company, losing yourself in their words for the moment where the questionable reality of the situation went over your head.

Perhaps if you grew closer to the heroes under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel so gut wrenchingly apprehensive whenever you caught yourself coming to greatly enjoy your time with them. It was like an internal betrayal―your body unable to disregard the oppressive behaviour they exhibited, while simultaneously longing to have gratitude for their hospitable nature.

By the end of the night, the semi-forced meeting had you feeling as drained as any work day would, and then some.

In fact, you never fully recovered from it.

You only got worse, the need to apply more concealer and muster everything in your being to force a smile on your face during the day being the bane of your existence. It was all because of them, and they didn’t even know.

If you weren’t so miserable, you could almost laugh at the whole thing. They were the ones urging you to take better care of yourself, and yet it was them who were keeping you from doing so. It’s not like you could just heed their words and stop using your quirk―your livelihood depended on it. Tips were hard to come by in your occupation, and the only reason why you earned so much was due to the advantage you held in the workplace.

The frustration was what had you crying yourself to sleep some nights, at least when you weren’t too exhausted to simply pass out the second your head hit the pillow. You began devising ‘what if’ scenarios that would only have to do with ways to avoid Shouta and Hizashi. Ways to weasel your way out of meeting up with them.

Maybe you could fake being sick? They would just come check up on you regardless.

Perhaps you could move to another city? You didn’t have the funds―and what if they followed you?

Why don’t you just ask them to end the agreement?

...Don’t lie to yourself, you’d rather lose your job than face that level of confrontation.

They were an active nuisance even when they weren’t directly in your life. And so when they were present in that sense, the feeling of unbearable stress only increased tenfold.

Hizashi was one for texting, the sound of a message alert from your phone instinctively triggering your heart to drop in your chest like a Pavlov dog. A painful reminder in the times you managed to free your worrisome mind from their unintentional torment.

And then there was the unannounced visit from Shouta on your way home. It only happened once before the next dinner night, but it was enough to break down the wall you’d built for the ensuing occasion that would hopefully protect your weak heart from shattering under the stress.

He walked you home, catching you on your way back from work. It was peculiar, to say the least. A hero as busy as him actively ignoring his duties to see a civilian who was in no danger whatsoever back to their apartment. You initially questioned him, and he blew off the concern with the defence that this type of occurrence was very much in the rage of heroics that needed to be done.

You weren’t in danger, but you might’ve been if he hadn’t showed up. It was a logical action taken by him, and you shouldn’t worry about it.

Shouta was quiet on his feet, and you might’ve thought he’d left you be if it weren’t for that distinct rustling of his capture weapon shifting as he walked next to you. He was a man of few words, and seeing you home didn’t require much conversation when he was simply doing his duty as a hero.

You arrived at the complex, safe and sound. Physically at least.

As always, you had to adjust from keeping your anxieties to yourself, to being so overwhelmingly aware of them in the privacy of your own apartment. The floodgates were opened, and bottled up emotions no longer had a need to stay hidden. Coming home was never supposed to be so painful, but it was when you were forced to spend it trying to calm down from the chance day.

_____

They let you make dessert for your next meeting. The both of them were deeply impressed by your skills, offering their own extensive words of praise.

Expectedly, it wasn’t enough to have them forgetting the real reason why you were there. You were thankful when Shouta asked how you were doing this time―he always got straight to the point.

But you ended up yawning midway through dismissing their concerns, and of course they pressed you on it. It wasn’t intentional in the slightest. You didn’t want to give away that your limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds with how tired you were. Or how your existence could now be chalked up to getting ready for work, going to work, and recovering from work―with a sprinkle of uncontrollable meltdowns on the side.

You told them it was getting late, and they had offered you a drink, so naturally you were a little tired from it. No big deal, right?

Of course, they said.

And so you went home not too long after, Shouta in the driver's seat, stoic and silent as ever. Maybe it was your hazed over mind playing tricks on you, but his demeanour felt...off. Like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. Perhaps it was for your sake, or he just assumed you were too worn out to really take whatever words were floating around in his head to heart. So instead he kept a close eye on you the whole way home, stealing concerned glances that you never met with your own gaze. He was tense―the white knuckled grip on the wheel gave it away.

Shouta never gave you evidence as to why he was acting as such, and you never asked him to.

_____

While you may have been growing accustomed to their presence even in the slightest, it didn’t stop your body from shutting down in the areas that you needed most.

Resilience was your strong suit in the time before meeting the two men. But life was testing you around every corner, and you were failing these tests with worse results each time.

It was Wednesday, the halfway mark in another week that felt all too long for you to be able to stomach. Unforeseen obstacles were becoming a norm lately. Making sure you were stocked up on enough caffeine so you didn’t black out, pinching yourself to stay awake in the slower times at work, consciously paying attention simple actions so you didn’t trip over your own two feet. Generally, it was the small stuff that was making your life harder alongside the more glaring issues you faced.

And now, the obstacle was getting home. It’s not that this wasn’t always a task in itself, but it never developed past the routine of ensuring you were heading in the right direction when your mind chose to wander.

This time you were sure the route you were taking was correct, but something was in your way.

Your ears rung at the high pitched sirens going off around you. The flashing lights of firetrucks, ambulances, and other various first responder vehicles lit up the steeped darkness of the night. A crowd had formed at the police tape line blocking off one side of the street, the group effectively taking up any space left to get by on the other side that wasn’t bombarded by emergency personnel.

The sight seemed like an insurmountable feat, especially in your state. Physically and emotionally drained, the gathering of onlookers stood as one of your worst fears and largest challenges yet. Whatever had earned such an audience was beyond you. Realistically, you needed only to regard the response it was given to know that whatever had happened, it was quite serious.

And it was preventing you from moving forward.

There was the shortcut to your left, one that’d worked for you before...until it didn’t. The warnings of Shouta and Hizashi ran through your head, bringing on a new sense of anxiety. It was just what you needed―the words of the two most intimidating men in your life keeping you from seeing yourself home in a calm manner.

You couldn’t take the alleyway. The only option was right in front of you.

Deep breaths.

It was only roughly twenty or thirty feet of crowd. Tightly packed, and relatively unmoving. You didn’t have the heart to rudely shove your way through the condensed gathering, fearing the looks of disapproval from those you tried to get past. And so you weaved through slowly, barely getting out a passing “Pardon me,” or “Excuse me.”

Distantly, you were aware that your voice was so small amongst the muddled conversations of strangers and still blaring sirens, that the probability of anyone hearing your forced politeness was slim to none. But the action made you feel better, even if nobody knew that you were having these concerns. At least you were trying to be wary of others.

But you didn’t get the same care in return.

Rudely, an observing civilian shoved you to the side, selfishly trying to get a better view. You stumbled into another body, earning a curse of annoyance for your clumsiness. With a racing heart hammering in your ears, you gave a distressed apology. It earned you no leniency.

You can block them out, just focus on getting out of here.

Another harsh force collided with your back, sending you to the pavemented ground. The feeling of your knees scraping against the harsh surface didn’t register. The notion that tears were welling in your eyes didn’t either. Only the sensation of panic, and the ability to simply breath becoming more difficult was able to surface in your consciousness.

You pleaded with your body to stand up, and somehow you did, no thanks to anyone around you who could’ve very well assisted you. Through the thickness of the crowd you couldn’t even see where the bodies dissipated. All you could do was blindly move forward.

Nobody cared about how overwhelmed you quite obviously were. Or at least that’s what you thought, not being able to completely tell, or ask for help to hopefully alert someone of your extreme discomfort. They only needed to remove their focus from whatever scene warranted so much attention in front of them for a second to realize what they were unknowingly doing.

And yet, of course nobody was that conscious of their own actions. Not like you, who even amidst the chaos of being shoved in every which direction still desperately tried to minimize your own damage. It was for the sake of those who paid no mind for your own comfort, you fearing whatever might happen if you didn’t.

The presence of so many people was suffocating. If you didn’t think you were claustrophobic before, you certainly knew you were now.

You were exhausted, stressed, partly injured―although that fact still hadn’t set in yet―and unbearably on edge.

And then you were out.

You don’t remember going through the motions, just that now your body wasn’t compressed by countless others. A few seconds went by and you felt your sense of balance come back to you. But you still felt nauseous, and in lifting a hand to your face you realized that you were crying, feeling the distinct wetness against your fingers.

Out of the need for mental self-preservation, your brain essentially forced you into autopilot. You found your legs moving away from the crowd, and down the route that would lead you home. It amazed you by the time you shut the door to your apartment that you hadn’t passed out. The way you still shakily sucked in breaths in quick succession hadn’t stopped, and your hands could barely keep steady as you fumbled with the locks on the door.

The work bag weighing you down was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and you tiredly trudged to the kitchen table. Had you gone any longer without rest, you could’ve very well collapsed right there on the floor. Thankfully, you made it to a chair before then, burying your face into your arms that were folded over the table as you slumped against it.

Tired and weak sobs wracked your worn out body, and you let the steady stream of tears be soaked up in the sleeve of your hoodie. As for how your mind was fairing, you couldn’t really tell. Getting a grip on your wavering thoughts felt impossible. It was an uncontrollable back and forth between what had happened, and fleeting attempts to ground yourself.

That task of focusing on the present wasn’t something you could do alone, at least not at the moment. But the sound of your phone ringing could. Your heart stopped at the auditory intrusion, and hesitantly you pulled the device out of your pocket.

The caller ID had you relapsing, broken cries unable to be contained for a few seconds as you tried to figure out how to deal with this new and greatly unappreciated problem. Your eyes scanned over the buzzing and lit up device, reading over Shouta’s name repeatedly.

You let the call go to voicemail.

A moment of reprieve―and then the ringtone started for a second time.

With bated breath, you stared at the device. You could let it go to voicemail once again. You could blow it off as not being near the phone when you were inevitably questioned on the occurrence.

Or you could answer the damn thing now, and be done with the weight of the night.

On the final ring before the automated response kicked in, you pressed the ‘accept call’ button. In lifting the phone to your ear, the gruff and concerned voice of Shouta broke through before you could make any move to initiate the dreaded conversation first.

“Sorry to bother you, just checking to see if you got home safe. There was an incident in your area in case you weren’t already aware…”

The line went silent as you took a moment to collect yourself before giving a response.

You sucked in a deep breath, “I’m alright, thanks for calling.” The appreciative lilt in your tone was as genuine as you could make it. But the shakiness, the crack in your voice as you spoke―it was a dead giveaway.

“...Then why do you sound like you’ve been crying for hours? You need to tell me if something happened, (y/n).” Even with the way the phone call distorted his voice, the sternness still pierced your resolve as if he was standing right in front of you.

Your words were shaky as you felt a plethora of distressing emotions bubbling rapidly inside of you. “I said I’m fine, Shouta. You don’t need to―”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I’m only asking because I’m worried about you, alright? Clearly something’s wrong, just―tell me what happened.”

You wondered if he was aware of just how unfriendly he sounded while saying something like that. It was more so a harsh command for a response, rather than a gentle urge to inform him of your wellbeing. Like he was bothered with you trying to remain strong, and not burdening him with your problems.

That was your issue with Shouta―a hint of what you could only assume was annoyance lingered in his words where you were concerned. At least, that’s how it was when you were behaving in such a manner that didn’t comply with how he’d decided you should act. You’d seen him in a light that was enjoyable. When you first met him, or after he’d already chewed you out during those Saturday nights and thus no longer felt the need to pressure you on what truth you’d developed over your state.

Unfortunately, right now your state went against all those lies you told. An emotional wreck, beaten down by the hands of those too caught up in some captivating scene to take account of the consequences to their ignorance.

Determination was wavering in your mind, and if you didn’t end the call soon then the chance of making all the effort you’d put into keeping them from the truth would be for nothing.

“Really, everything is okay. Listen, I’m sort of busy right now…” You stifled a sob into a clenched fist, “I-I can’t talk at the moment, I’m sorry―I have to go.”

Your finger was flying to the ‘end call’ button as soon as the words left your mouth. His protests rang through the speaker, but exactly what he said was beyond you.

The line went dead, and your phone shut off. It clattered against the wooden table as you dropped it. Your hands lifted to rub the hot tears falling down your cheeks, full body tremors wreaking havoc as you remained seated.

In the silence of your apartment, your emotions settled into a static numbness. Your eyes remained trained on the table, mindlessly taking in the details of the wood’s grain. Whatever would happen as a result of you abruptly cutting off the conversation wasn’t a scenario you could formulate.

The screen on your phone remained black, and you made no move to turn it on. You never checked it for the time that was passing as you remained utterly drained at the kitchen table. Something in the back of your mind told you that yes―you could very well get up and go to bed. Or maybe you could bring yourself out of this empty feeling with a distraction.

You could even call Shouta back, perhaps apologize for behaviour that was out of your control...

...No, you couldn’t do that.

Possibilities of various actions presented themselves, and yet you remained unmoving. Your breath had steadied to a slow intake and outtake, disregarding the quivering that still persisted. You didn’t want to think about what had happened, so you didn’t think at all.

You settled into that state for an unknown amount of time. And it took a while, but slowly you could focus on the background noise around you. The air conditioner hummed from the vents against the wall, the thumping of footsteps from residents above you sounded off a couple of times.

Actually...there were more than just those few footsteps.

Still in a daze, you trained your weak focus on that sound. Distant, then coming closer. You turned your head to the front door of your apartment where they stopped.

Three loud raps against the frame. Firm, steady, and done with purpose.

Your heart sunk into your chest.

(End of part 6)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner

#yandere bnha #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere eraserhead #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #yanderecore #yandere writing #yandere x you #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #tw claustrophobia

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years

Text

Love’s Worth Running To. Chapter 1: Reunited

Pairing: Barry Allen x Stephanie Williams (OC)

Fandom: Justice League / DCEU

CHAPTER INDEX • NEXT CHAPTER ➡

AO3

A/N: It’s finally here, I’m so freaking excited!! I have so many ideas for this series and I love them all, it’s going to be really fun writing interactions between Barry and Steph and with the Justice League too! Not to mention how many things are going on with the plot and the villains and the heroes!

I hope you like this series, or at least the first chapter, I’m quite satisfied with it so far. If you could reblog it and/or leave feedback, it would really mean the world to me!

The sun shines bright, at the highest point in the sky. The air is mildly warm. Summer is near. The park is completely empty at that time, too early still after school has just ended. Soon the place will be filled with loud children running, shouting and playing. She hopes he will arrive before them.

Stephanie absently-minded kicks her feet up, moving in the swing and wondering where he could be. His swing next to her is empty. It gently sways with the breeze.

“Tephie!” Soon enough, a little boy comes running her direction. He trips and stumbles as her approaches her.

“Barry” She mutters, forcing the swing to a halt when she notices he’s crying. “What happened?”

“They hit me again” It is then that she notices the red bruise on his cheek. “I ran”

“Are you okay?” The little girl jumps off the swing, meeting him halfway as he finally reaches her.

“Yeah... I’m okay...” He grits his teeth, averting his teary eyes from her.

Stephanie frowns at first, never before having seen him angry except for on occasions like that. Because of the bullies. In any case, she doesn’t understand why the other kids pick on Barry so much.

She then takes his hand, smiling at him, and starts running. He was just starting to recover from his own dash, but he gladly follows after her even as he huffs again.

“Where are we going?”

Stephanie doesn’t reply. She only giggles, squeezing his hand as they run through the park. They reach a small hill, patiently climbing their way to the top. They look at each other, never letting go of their hands or stopping to catch their breath. Now they’re both smiling.

Once they’re at the top of the green hill, Stephanie finally stops. Barry stands by her side, watching in confusion and curiosity. The little girl watches the clouds for a moment, craning her neck up and squinting her eyes at the bright sun.

After taking a deep breath, Stephanie lets out a very loud high-pitched shriek. Startled, Barry jumps in place. When she looks at him, that smile is still adorning her features.

“Try it!” She encourages him between giggles. “You’ll feel better”

Barry gawks at her, but Stephanie tugs at his hand. Giving in, he takes a deep breath. When he starts screaming at the top of his lungs, the little girl dissolves into giggles. He stops for a moment, glancing at her in surprise.

“I do feel better”

“Then keep doing it!”

The two of them join together in a thunderous harmony of shrieking voices. Their frustrated and boisterous screaming evolves into giggles. Soon after, their laughter has completely taken over. They laugh and laugh until their stomachs hurt. Looking at the other only causes them to laugh harder. But they don’t stop staring at the other.

They don’t stop smiling.

And laughing.

The alarm clocks startles her awake. Stephanie opens her eyes, meeting with the direct sight of her plain white ceiling. She groans, feebly sitting up and passing a hand through her messy brown hair. Her eyes are instinctively directed to the framed photograph on her beside table. The boy of her dream is looking at her through time, immortalized in that image. She smiles to herself. Barry Allen, the one and only. The little girl next to him, a younger version of Stephanie, is smiling wide. His arm is on her shoulders and neither of them could be happier.

Shaking her head, Stephanie gets to her feet. She calmly walks to the bathroom to get ready for work. Even as she combs her hair, as she brushes her teeth and gets changed from her pijamas to her street clothes, her thoughts wander.

That boy keeps running through her mind like he does every morning. Every day. He brings a dull ache to Stephanie’s chest. The sting of nostalgia. The big what ifs that make her head fuzzy. The yearning for regaining what she once had.

Like every morning, Stephanie forces those thoughts away the moment she leaves her apartment. She just takes a deep breath and ventures into the streets of Central City. She has a life of her own now. Without him. As much as she misses Barry Allen, she hasn’t talked to her childhood best friend in years. It’s best to forget about him. She probably won’t see him again.

Or at least... that’s what she thinks.

The Batcave is quiet that morning. As Barry absently walks in, he hopes it’s a good thing. Dropping his bag from his shoulder down to the floor, he glances around. Everything is in order. Bruce and Diana are sitting in a small round table, smiling as they chat over coffee. Victor and Arthur share a slightly bigger square table not far from them, playing cards in a mildly aggressive way that seems very much amusing to them both. Clark is intensely typing on his laptop, resting his back against the wall.

“Hey, everyone!” Barry greets them, making a little wave when they turn their heads.

“Barry” Bruce greets him back. “Everything okay?”

“Yup, pretty normal” He shrugs, going to stand between the two tables. “And here?”

“Everything is calm” Diana tells him with a warm smile.

“Really?”

“Yes”

“Just the usual” Clark pipes up, still not looking away from the screen. “Saving some people every now and then”

Barry nods his head in response. He has done that some days himself – moving a person away from a speeding car, helping people stuck in burning buildings, even getting kitties down from trees. Nothing ‘save the world’ worthy, but important nonetheless.

“So…” The boy begins, letting his dark eyes wander around the room. “If everything’s calm, what are we all doing here then?”

“Hanging out” Victor simply replies, brow furrowed in concentration as he stares at the deck in his hand.

“Hanging out, huh?”

“Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?”

“Aw, Arthur… you consider me your friend?”

Arthur glares at Barry, fighting a smile, and shakes his head at him. “I take it back”

“Fine, okay, um…” Barry fidgets in the spot, having lots of nervous energy at the start of the day. “I’m going to get to the store, anyone want something?”

“A sense of purpose” Victor replies sarcastically, causing Arthur to chuckle.

“Yeah, I have like… 3 dollars” Barry says, digging some wrinkled bills from his pocket.

“No, thank you” Diana kindly says, playfully tilting her head at Victor in response to his comment.

“A new member to the team would be great” Arthur smirks too. “Maybe that way it’d be easier to deal with you”

“That’s it, mister” Barry points a finger at him. “I was gonna get donuts for everyone, but you’re not getting any”

Everyone chuckles, including Arthur, and they all continue with what they were doing before Barry came in. Slightly restless still, the boy sighs and picks his bag back up.

“Be right back” And he speeds off, setting the wheels of destiny in motion.

Stephanie takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate in the present. The investigation is leading nowhere, and so that dull and routinely day becomes something even worse: a waste of time. When she moves away from the microscope, Stephanie’s eyes are directed to the corridor outside the room when they detect movement.

Her smile, which had been missing, returns like the sun on a cloudy day when she sees Ben walking towards the lab. He seems to be the only dash of color in her usually gray days.

“Sorry I’m late” Ben says as soon as he walks in, dedicating her a smile that spreads warmth within her. “I had so much to do this morning”

“It’s okay” She takes her glasses off and stands away from the table.

“Any luck with the samples?” He absently asks as he puts his white lab coat on.

“There’s no change” Stephanie sighs in defeat. “The molecules have been exposed to that force field for days now and there is no reaction”

“That’s odd…” Ben frowns and approaches her. “Is the computer still glitching?”

“I haven’t touched it this time” She jokes, even if her tone holds more irritation than playfulness this time. “I don’t think it has an effect on the results in any case”

Her partner quiets for a moment, typing and reading the screen. After he has checked and introduced some commands that will alter that force field, he turns to her.

“Do you think we’re doing something wrong?”

“I don’t know…” She pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling the start of a headache forming in her forehead.

The silence settles for just a second. It falls on them forcefully, heavily.

“Why don’t you go get some coffee?” Ben kindly touches her shoulder. “The fresh air might help”

“You just want me to get you some coffee” Stephanie smiles in spite of herself.

“I didn’t say that” A cautiously playful smiles draws on his lips. “But if you insist…”

“Fine...” Her smiles lingers even as she jokingly rolls her eyes. “The usual?”

“Yes, please” Ben innocently replies, even if he’s observing the experiment.

Stephanie shakes her head to herself, taking her lab coat off and leaving the lab.

The wheels of destiny start spinning faster and faster.

The hubbub fills the establishment. Stephanie taps her foot, trying to distract herself while she waits in line. The queue isn’t moving. The other costumers also scoff, sigh and roll their eyes at whoever keeps them waiting like that.

“I know I’m twenty cents short! But c’mon, it’s just twenty cents!” A loud voice comes from the counter, at the very start of the line. “I’m craving that donut so much! Can’t you like… I don’t know… make an exception or something?”

“I can’t let you take them if you don’t pay, sir” The clerk replies in the most bored voice Stephanie has ever heard. “Give me all the money and you can have your food”

“You don’t understand” The more she hears that voice, the more Stephanie thinks it sounds familiar. It’s not exactly the tone, but the cadence and fidgety hint to it. “I have been, um…. Running... around all day, I need to eat something!”

Why is that voice so familiar? Just as she is leaning to the side to try and get a look at him, Stephanie’s heart skips a beat when she places where she heard that voice before.

It can’t be...

Her heart is now thumping inside her rib cage. The butterflies coyly start to unleash in her stomach, but she tries to keep them at bay. She shouldn’t get her hopes up.

Cutting in line, she quickly moves to the start of the queue to take a look at that person. A tall thin boy with dark hair is leaning against the counter and impatiently drumming his fingers against the glass. He passes a hand through his short hair. That second in which he hasn’t noticed her presence yet feels like an hour before she finally pipes up.

“I can’t believe it” She grins when she sees him, even if she’s shaking with excitement. “Barry? Barry Allen?”

He turns his head in her direction. His dark brown eyes are awfully familiar to her, and that’s how she knows it’s really him. The smile that appears on his lips next, sweet and bright, is the last proof she needs to confirm his identity.

“Stephanie? Is that you?” The boy squints at her, forgetting about the food. “Stephanie Williams?”

“Yes!” She chuckles, bouncing in the spot. “It’s me!”

“Steph!” Without thinking twice, Barry throws himself to hug her. “Oh my gosh!”

A big feeling of warmth envelops her as he presses her against him. Several years have gone by, but it feels like time hasn’t really passed at the same time. Stephanie feels like her ten year old self again as she is squished by one Barry Allen’s bear hugs.

Memories overwhelm her. Hot summer afternoons in the park. Movie marathons that turned into sleepovers. Chilly autumn evenings. She is even reminded of their pirate phase. All those thoughts fill her with a nostalgia that, for the first time in a decade, isn’t filled with melancholy.

“You look great!” Barry exclaims as he breaks away, much too soon for her taste, and takes her by the shoulders. “You have the same face”

“Thank you” She laughs a little, taking it as a compliment. “You have changed a little”

“It’s the jaw, isn’t it?” He jokes, passing a finger through his own face. “Makes me look older”

“I’m so happy to see you, Barry” Stephanie grins, clinging on to him and hoping the moment can last forever.

“Why, what’s wrong?” He fondly squeezes her arm. “Are you having a bad day? Who do I have to kill?”

“Same old Barry...” She laughs, shaking her head in amusement.

“Excuse me” The clerk’s voice reminds them that they aren’t alone in the establishment. “Are you paying or not?”

The both of them pause, bearing similar embarrassed expressions as they glance at the queuing crowd that stare at the pair in annoyance. When they realize they are still tightly holding on to each other, they awkwardly step away.

“Um… I’ll pay for that” Stephanie offers, politely smiling as she picks up her purse.

“Oh, thank you!” Barry effusively replies, clapping his hands together. “You’re my hero”

She laughs a little, endeared by his comment. The clerk finally hands him his donuts and the rest of his order and Barry grabs it with an excited little bounce. Then he turns to Stephanie once more, smiling from ear to ear.

“Look, I gotta run” He mumbles, fondly staring at her. “But it’s been great to see you”

“Oh, uh… yeah…” The girl sheepishly smiles, putting her hair behind her ear. “It’s been great to see you too”

Barry must have noticed the disappointment in her voice, because he frowns as he observes her. Then, after a brief pause, he places his hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, since you saved my butt back there… I could uh…” He stutters for a moment, ultimately clearing his throat and blushing under Stephanie’s amused gaze. “We could go out for a coffee sometimes, I’m paying”

“Y-Yeah!” Her face instantly lights up. “That would be great!”

“That way we can catch up!”

“You’re right, it would be lovely!”

Barry looks over his shoulder for a moment, bothered by the people that still crowd around them. Then he gulps and stares at her in expectation. Seeing as Stephanie just stands there, grinning, he insists.

“When are you free?”

“Oh” She chuckles in embarrassment. “Today I’m all booked, but tomorrow after lunch I’m free”

“Great!”

“Great”

“See you here tomorrow at… let’s say… 4pm?”

“That sounds great”

“Cool”

Barry and Stephanie still stand there, staring at each other. It feels as though that invisible string that had been so taut, keeping them apart, now won’t keep them separated any longer. Like they are physically incapable of moving away.

A wave of emotions has taken over them. All those feelings that they had forgotten, that they were once so used to when they were children and saw each other every day. The excitement slowly bubbling in their chest that spreads down to the stomach and groww bigger and bigger, the way they couldn’t stop smiling and their faces end up hurting from the big gesture, the pleasant nervous butterflies in the stomach...

“Well” Barry finally makes the move, resting his hand against Stephanie’s upper arm and lovingly squeezing. “I would love to stay, but I really really gotta go”

“S-Sure, of course” Hiding the pain in her heart, she steps to the side. “I have to go back to work too”

“See you tomorrow!” He waves goodbye and hurries to the door.

Stephanie stays there for several more seconds, watching the spot from which he disappeared. She sighs. Before the sadness can overcome her, however, she tells herself that she will see him tomorrow. After years separated, Stephanie and Barry will finally be together again.

When she returns, everything is the same at the lab. Oddly enough, it feels completely different at the same time. With her chest full and the stomach suffering the remaining of the butterflies, Stephanie walks inside. She puts her lab coat on and approaches Ben.

“I’m back!” Seeing as he is still busy with the computer, she only leaves the small plastic tray in the table beside him. “Here’s your coffee, Ben”

The young man absently turns to her and has to do a double take. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise when he takes a better look at her.

“Look at that smile…” He says, putting a hand on his hip.

“What?” Stephanie scoffs, rushing to pick up her coffee to have something to do. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me smile before...”

“I know, but that smile feels different…” A sweet grin slowly makes its way to Ben’s face. “More genuine”

“Maybe…”

“So why the change?”

“I don’t know” She lies, feeling herself blushing.

Ben peers at her for a moment longer, but ultimately gets back to work. Stephanie sighs in relief and absently returns to the experiment herself.

She does know the reason behind that change... Barry Allen. That constant presence in her life even in his absence. That boy she could never forget and that, she is happy to realize now, she doesn’t have to. Stephanie has been reunited with her beloved childhood friend, and the best part of all is she will see him again very soon.

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#loves worth running to #lwrt #barry allen #ezra miller #justice league #barry allen x reader #barry allen x oc #justice league imagine #dc imagine #series #justice league series #dc series #barry allen imagine #original character #oc

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mavda · 3 years

Text

Beast Tamers

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) |

Ch.7: Of burdens and duties (1)

Sai waits for Hinata outside with his hand extended, but like many times before, she just gifts him a smile before walking right in front of him.

"My lady," he starts, but Hinata cuts him before he can even try to argue.

"We have already t-talked about this, Sai, there is no n-need."

Sai doesn't pout, but his body language is enough for Hinata to know that he feels like doing it.

Sai takes his bodyguard duties with a responsibility Hinata had thought was meant to mock her at first, but she has learned that Sai is just...

"Yesterday Kiba was wolfing down his dinner and looked just like Akamaru, I thought he would be happy being compared with his beloved companion, but when I told him he looked like a dog he stared at me and told me that I was," he gestures the quotes with his hands, "just fucking dumb." Sai cocks his head, and like many other times, looks at her in search for answers, "I can't say I felt shocked, but I feel like I should have been pissed or something. What do you think?"

"Did you s-say anything back?"

"I meant to, but I think I must have looked confused, because Ino told Kiba to just take the compliment and shut up."

Hinata giggles and brings the bag in her arms to her mouth, in an attempt to hide her smile. Sai looks at her and cocks his head to the other side, "Kiba shouted 'compliment!?' and they started arguing with each other. I must say, Ino understood what I had meant, but Kiba just flat out refused to even entertain the idea of me being nice. He thinks I'm just an asshole."

Hinata knows that Sai tries his best to fit in, but his inability to understand certain social cues is enough to put him in trouble. Especially with a person as competitive as Kiba.

"I'm sure that g-given time he'll come to under-understand you, Sai. Just l-like me."

Sai raises an eyebrow, nods to no one, "I am sorry if I ever said anything that could have been misunderstood."

"Sai, r-really, it d-doesn't matter anymore."

Sai remains silent, and now Hinata is berating herself for saying those things. What did it matter that she thought differently before? He didn't need to know that. Now he knows and he's sulking. Sai may be blunt and 'honest', as Ino likes to put it, but he's not mean. He just doesn't know how to soften his words.

Hinata walks with her head down, worrying about whether she should talk about this with Sai or not, so she doesn't see the two servants walking their way. Doesn't see their faces, doesn't register their presence, which is why when they say the things they say she freezes, caught by surprise.

"Shameful," the man starts as soon as they are getting out of earshot. "Unable to conceive after these many months."

"Useless," the woman agrees.

And Hinata feels the heat rising up to her cheeks. It's not so much the comments they throw her way but the fact that she wasn't prepared. She has heard worse. And she has faced even more back at her own house. She knows how to take them, smile through them, even, but she had let her guards down in here, had forgotten how ruthless people can be, and that's why she's embarrassed.

Her feet move forward out of pure instinct, as she knows showing any signs of weakness in these situations will only fuel more instances like this one. And she doesn't want that.

But Sai is different. Sai is proper and honest and blunt, and his job is to protect her. And he has trouble grasping the workings of the mind and how words can hurt others, but the body doesn't lie. And he has an eye for that. So he lingers on the way Hinata stops ever so slightly, the way she doubts, the way her head raises and stares straight ahead, the way her cheeks get rosy out of frustration and how she finally decides to keep on going. Because she has decided that facing these words is not worth her time.

But Sai is different. So he squares his feet, turns and calls for the servants, "Excuse me." Calm, as always, with a smile in place, as he has taught himself, "you are forbidden to be near Lady Hinata from now on," the servants are surprised and the man is ready to make a scene, "you are also forbidden from speaking whenever you are near the lady."

"Who do you th-"

"Your orders are effective now," Sai's voice is louder now, more menacing without even a change in tone. The man stops mid sentence and looks from Sai to Lady Hinata, weighing them down. He scoffs and raises an eyebrow.

Sai can read the confidence in his posture, "I am fully sanctioned to give orders by Lord Naruto himself, if you have any complaints you may take them with him."

The servants freeze on their spot.

"Well, then, I better not see you near the lady ever again."

Hinata doesn't know what comes over her, but maybe it's the fact that Sai has now been witness to a shameful part of herself, unable to stand up to servants who are obviously looking down on her, or the knowledge that Naruto has given the people who take care of her all the power they need to protect her that makes her feel choked up and embarrassed all at once.

Sai catches up to her and Hinata walks without looking back, she whispers a thank you that somehow Sai hears. He shrugs it off, in pure Sai fashion, and as if nothing happened he talks about the last dish he cooked and how and why he thinks it might have failed.

⁂⁂⁂

Naruto is about to explode, his father notices. It has nothing to do with the usual reasons though. No long meetings, no days in which rest is scarce, no injury that prevents him from exercise or pains him in daily life. It's both endearing and worrisome to know that he can get this riled up about the matter.

Minato has spent years upon years teaching and educating Naruto in the powers words can have over him. Since his teenage years Naruto has had no trouble controlling himself. Getting annoyed, sure, but a nudge, a look, a well meaning advice is enough to snap him out of it. Let him know he's in the fringe of his control.

The clan, more than anyone, knows of Naruto's struggles. Know specifically that Naruto has a controlled temper, but when angry can and will stand his ground. And yet... and yet...

Naruto practically snarls, "Are we ever getting something out of this meeting or are you all just gonna circle around this topic for another hour?"

Minato nudges, looks, stares even, but Naruto ignores him completely, and Minato keeps his face straight out of pure practice.

"You must understand, my lord-"

"I have already said my piece. I will not, under any circumstance, allow a concubine in here. End of discussion."

"Given that we have yet to see even a mere suspicion on a pregnancy from the current lady-"

Naruto's hand comes hard down to the floor. Everyone flinches and some look even embarrassed. Naruto's voice is controlled, to everyone's surprise.

"The current lady," he spits, "is the only one you're getting, so shut it about anything that doesn't concern having her as my wife or the mother of my children."

And old man, whose face looks more like crumpled and wet paper, frowns, "We understand your reticence to having a concubine, but you must understand-"

“We either start talking about the Summit or I leave,” as if his words aren’t enough, he grabs the papers resting in front of him with women’s information and throws them at the center of the circle, where they scatter without order.

“My lord…” a man starts, but is soon interrupted by another, who sighs deeply before signaling to an assistant to bring another set of papers.

“All current Beast Tamers will be present,” he shares as he smooths out the papers in his hands.

Naruto nods, but his face keeps the look of disgust throughout the meeting.

⁂⁂⁂

Hinata waits for him in their bedroom. With practiced ease she helps Naruto disrobe when he enters the room, with confidence built over time she uses her technique and releases his chakra points and with a familiarity she has come to love, they talk about their days.

Hinata does not share her insecurities or the whispers that surround her regarding her inability to conceive. And Naruto wishes he could do the same, if only those talks were something he alone had to endure, he would. But Sai has shared with him what Hinata has faced.

There is a silence and Naruto wedges the topic in, “Sai talked with me, uhm…”

Hinata bites her lips and looks to the ground, “You d-don’t have to worry about it… please.”

“I will make sure no one can say anything to you, all right? You don’t… please, don’t worry about it.”

He looks at her with unguarded eyes, and Hinata knows Naruto doesn’t share the same insecurities as those servants. Knows for him this is not a topic yet.

But it’s the uncertainty of when this will become a problem that fills her with dread. Naruto gets close to her, hugs her and starts a series of kisses that Hinata welcomes.

Her mind is blissfully shut down and only Naruto’s caresses register. His breath, his hands, the way his skin touches hers. Everything is familiar and calming. Naruto undresses her slowly, showers her bare skin with kisses that leave her breathless.

“Don’t worry about it,” Naruto whispers, and Hinata wants to laugh, because what is there to worry about when she’s in his arms?

Her legs open and Naruto enters her with a desperation that makes her roll her head backwards. He thrusts with a rhythm they know by heart and Hinata can’t think.

She feels himself spilling inside, feels his body pressing on top of hers. Her hand clasp behind his neck and she brings him closer, impossibly closer to her.

As they’ve spent countless nights together, they have learnt to let go of their inhibitions and Naruto is more open about his wants. “Again,” he whines, still inside of her and Hinata blushes.

Naruto pulls out, sits on his heels and stares. Hinata feels herself grow excited, her legs tremble in anticipation and her hands cross in front of her chest in embarrassment. His seed starts dripping and Naruto comes closer, kisses her knees.

He throws his robe away without a care and covers her body with his. He breaths her in but this time it’s Hinata who kisses and searches for him. His body is firm and taut, hard with muscle and Hinata can’t help her fascination as her hands roam around. When she feels him hardening again she pumps his erection.

Naruto drags his tongue down her body and then turns her around. The bedclothes bite at her face and the hands that caress her buttocks make her moan to the air.

Naruto takes his time, teases Hinata by moving his erection against her bum. She whines and brings her hand to him, grabs his thigh and drags her nails. Naruto enters her and lets himself sit there a moment. Her body beckoning him to move.

The air is filled with the scent of sex and Naruto’s movement fills the room with the clapping of his body agains his wife. Hinata’s back shines with perspiration and Naruto doubles over to rest his face between her shoulder blades. Her hands are fists that grab whatever she can and as he dives closer her abdomen comes flat into the ground. Her entrance becomes tighter and Naruto stops thinking for a second, as he pulls out and thrusts as hard as he can.

His hands try to grab Hinata’s hips, but the position forces him to rest his forearms around her. Hinata grabs his arm and brings him closer to her, his hand finds her shoulder and he anchors himself. He rests his forehead against her, looks down and watches himself disappear between her posterior. He is mesmerized by the way his body presses into her, makes her flesh quiver. He comes as he feels Hinata pressing against him, her legs and fingers stretching in search for relief.

They lay there, sweaty, panting and with their bodies tangled with each other. Naruto is the one that stands up and grabs a towel to clean Hinata, the moment he is done he wipes his own member and steals a kiss from her. He cocoons her in his arms and drapes the bedclothes over them. Hinata feels his penis against her, half-hard against her back. Naruto leaves a trail of kisses at her neck, and the back of her head. He finds sleep soon after.

Hinata lays there, awake, trying her best to think about the pleasure she was feeling not long ago. But the night is silent and Naruto’s arm around her flat stomach is enough to remind her that there is no child inside of her.

The comments do not bother her, the comments do not bother her, the comments do not bother her. It is not the comments of people she doesn’t care about that bother her. It’s herself. Herself and the tiny voice that comes to her when there is silence that tells her that there really isn’t much of a surprise here. Nothing has ever come easy to her, why would this be any different?

She places her hand over Naruto’s arm, snakes her hand to touch her stomach. She stares at the single strand of light that managed to enter their bedroom and she wishes.

She wishes for herself to stop failing at everything.

#naruto #naruhina #fanfic #fanfiction #Beast Tamers #ch.7 #part 1 #mah baby

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