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myouicieloz · 5 months

Note

You overhear Karina talking about how clingy you are and from then out started being distant and non-affectionate towards her and she eventually confronts you and asks why you keep pushing her away, to which you tell her

Over her

Yoo Jimin x reader

Warnings: a little smut in the end (just a little). reader and yn don’t really talk abt it tbh. skipping meals (? idk how to word it better than this).

Word count: 5.4k

Notes: I’m alive!!! sorry for taking forever to answer 😔. I think your message got cut off? so I got a little creative, I hope you don’t mind :). If you do, I can still cut out a few things n stuff. anyways, merry early christmas ig ^^ ps: I also didn’t know if this was supposed to be smut, so I only wrote a little and in the end.

You’ve always been utterly, embarrassingly, completely enamored with your girlfriend. It was obvious to anyone who looked at you for even a single second; you would always be caught staring at Karina with loving eyes, often going out of your way to simply please and spoil her rotten, showering her with kisses and gifts. For you, it was physically impossible to be without her for too long. Her absence made your heart ache, almost as if there were something missing from you. It was difficult to go on with your routine if you didn’t have her by your side. You missed your late night talks, walks at the park, parking lot dates, eating too much junk food together… You missed her, truthfully. All of her.

Naturally, you understood her duties as an idol: being away for shows, events, and photoshoots were part of her life just as much as you were. However, you knew Karina’s time was precious and scarce— which was why, whenever she was back in Seoul, you tried to spend as much quality time together as possible.

Even now, as the group’s busy with their latest Mini Album’s promotions, you couldn’t help but to feel glistening with happiness to have the four girls back in Korea, regardless of them still being so occupied with fansigns, program attendances and rehearsals for their upcoming stages and festival performances. Having them in town gives you the opportunity to join them backstage, which you absolute love; whether it’s the artistic atmosphere, or being able to understand how this industry truly works, with all the engines running frantically in the girls’ background to ensure everything goes as planned… And, of course, getting to watch Karina perform and be the astonishing, all-rounder, talented version of herself was the best part of it all. Anytime you look at her through the big screens, you realize how lucky you truly are— to be able to see all sides of her. To witness how sweet, shy and caring she could also be, once the cameras were not around.

You loved her so much.

“Congratulations, girls! You absolutely nailed it!” You praise the four girls as soon as they leave the stage, breathless from performing at a University Festival. They all smile back, trying to recompose themselves as best as they can, the adrenaline from being on stage slowly running out. You wait for them to calm down, too, before reaching out to give your girlfriend a big hug, in hopes to express yourself through your touches. You mean to tell her how wonderful she had done, but she ends the hug quickly, although her smile still lingers.

“I’m all sweaty, Y/n.” She explains, which you nod and take a step back to give her space. The two of you walk side by side, towards the big dressing room. “I don’t want you to get dirty, too.”

You shrug, trying to hide the uncomfortable feeling that stood on your heart, with the lack of her touches. You understood, though. Karina’s just taking care of you, like the sweet girlfriend she is. So you follow her, without complaints, even though all you want is to jump from excitement and tell her how perfectly she performed, setting the public on fire. Instead, you force yourself to stay still and calm down, laying with the others on the couch as you watch them change into normal clothes and relax.

The cafe’s atmosphere is cozy and calm, a much-needed contrast for the girls after a whole morning of practicing at the company. The place’s barely occupied— lunch break is nearly over for most of the workers— and the only sounds that can be heard are the wind’s peaceful breeze and the girl’s voices, engaged in a nonchalant gossip.

“I’m so hungry.” Winter complains, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder. You all chuckle at the sight; she’s too cute, even when she’s whiny.

“Me too.” You nod, and reach out for your girlfriend’s arm, tugging it slightly to steal her attention from Ning’s excited storytelling. It takes a few moments, but she finally hums, acknowledging you. “Love, do you think the food will take long? I need to use the restroom, but I’ll wait if it’s coming soon.”

Karina frowns, looking behind you for a few seconds. After examining the balcony, she seems to think otherwise. “It might take quite a while, still. We’ve ordered a lot, and we just got here, too. You’re safe to go.”

You nod as you get up and excuse yourself, leaving the girls to their own conversations. Their reserved table, set in a pretty well-hidden corner of the cafe, is the reason you’re able to observe their faces from afar, once you make your way back from the stalls. None of them notice your arrival, too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to your frame.

Giselle, Winter, and Ningning’s faces are uneasy as they listen to Karina’s rambling. Their fingers twitch on the table, and they shake their heads every once in a while, leaving you to wonder what’s gotten them so serious. Trying to understand the matter, you frown behind their backs, approaching the group in slow, unhurried steps.

“… She’s constantly all over me, too. I swear I don’t even have time to breathe without her on my skin, as if she has nothing else to do. It’s so fucking annoying, really. Like, you remember, right? And there was that time when we were all at the park and Y/n was just insufferab—.”

You decide not to eavesdrop on the rest of your girlfriend’s conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping your steps as light as you can, once you turn around and nearly run back to the restroom, ignoring the heavy pitch just forming in your stomach.

You only allow yourself to relax once you reassure your mind that none of them were aware of you listening to Karina’s harsh, hurtful words.

Instead, your hands go to your face, and you try to focus and take deep breaths to prevent the tears from coming. The moment they start, you know it’ll take long to stop. It was one of the things Karina always teased you about: how you’ve always been such a crybaby, drowning yourself in tears for absolutely anything.

Oh, Karina… how could she speak such things about you? You’ve always put on so much effort to be the best, supportive girlfriend you could, with extra care to respect your girlfriend’s boundaries and still express how much you loved her.

It hurt to know she found you annoying and clingy, specially since all you’ve ever meant was to reassure her of your love. Allowing your body to sink into the restroom’s floor, you reach to the ground, hugging your knees in hopes to feel some comfort.

Flashes pass through your mind like rockets, analyzing every single moment you’ve ever spent with Karina. Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do, your mind doesn’t seem to give you any relief, overthinking about each one of her touches, phrases, and actions towards you. Did she even love you? What was she doing with you, then, if she found your presence to be so suffocating? What have you done wrong?

Was your whole existence the problem? The way you acted, your bubbly personality…

The questions, now clearly etched on your brain, did nothing but deepen the lump in your throat, one that left saliva building up in your mouth, making it impossible to swallow. Even the simplest actions were difficult to be executed, just like it was when you were away from your girlfriend for too long.

Despite all, you couldn’t help but let a light chuckle, forcing yourself to get up and wash your face in the sink. You feel like you’re going to collapse if you stay in the cafe. No, that won’t do— you have to go home. Even if it means facing chaos herself.

And her friends, too. They must’ve been aware of Karina’s feelings towards you all along, yet they still let you smile and be all over like a fucking idiot.

You look up, trying not to ruin your mascara and risk having any of them finding out what you’ve just heard. Without rush, you force yourself to even your breathing, inhaling and exhaling in slow movements, focusing on your body’s movements instead of giving in to desperation.

You feel like you’re at the bottom pit, and it fucking sucked.

After minutes of calming yourself down, you dried the remaining tears and got up, sighing as you excited the bathroom. Your hands trailed the walls as you walked without rush, looking for something, anything to provide some strength. Eventually, the walls of the hallway gave way to the open area of the tables, making you gulp. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt too weak, almost as if you were going to pass out at any given moment. Your usual confidence was all gone, and you weren’t at all sure you’d manage to speak to them without stuttering or crying.

“Thank fucking God, Y/n. We thought you got kidnapped or something.” Winter was the first to say, giggling. Giselle and Ningning smiled too, mumbling how you must’ve gotten lost or thrown in a portal to another dimension, perhaps.

Karina nods. “You really took too long out there, Y/n. I almost went looking for you.” Even though her tone is light, your girlfriend’s smile fades once she takes a proper look at your face.

You try your best to smile back at her, hands going unconsciously to your arms, scratching them nervously. You’ve always liked to be the center of their attention; the little moments where they’d ask you for an opinion or actively listen to your rambling… you thrived on them. It felt like they were spoiling you, giving up one of the things they cherished the most to focus on you: their time. Even if just for a few seconds, the feeling of being observed by them brought you a strange feeling of being fulfilled, of being someone important.

“I actually need to go, now.” You mutter, grabbing your stuff whilst refusing to meet your girlfriend’s piercing gaze.

Karina’s already aware something is wrong, though. She knows your body, your expressions, your mannerisms… she’s more than capable of telling when you’re off, much to your discomfort.

“Is everything ok? What happened?” Her hands grab a hold of your elbow, and you nearly joint, throwing your phone and sweater in your purse as fast as you can, to escape from her fingers on you. Her touch hurts, electrocuting your skin as if she were a storm set on a windy, loud night. You couldn’t stand it.

“It’s just a family emergency, don’t worry.” You take a step back, with your wallet in hands to pay for your drink. Bowing slightly to acknowledge the pain you were bringing onto the conversation, you add. “Please keep up with your lunch. I’ll make sure to update you about it soon.”

Karina’s hands rest on top of yours, taking the card from between your fingers and back to the wallet.

“It’s ok, I’ll pay.” Her voice, calm and soothing, is much different from her previous, livid tone. She gives your hand a squeeze, getting up herself. “Do you want me to go with you? Manager unnie will understand.”

The girls nod, their faces also filled with worry. However, you dismiss your girlfriend, diverting your gaze to the ground as you inhale deeply. You’re unable to face her by any given means; you’d fall apart in front of them if you did as such. In fact, you find yourself unable to face any of them. They’ve made a fool out of you for too long, and that single thought is enough for bile to rest in your throat, threatening to spill. You can’t deal with that, not at the moment.

“I mean it: I’m sure I can handle it.” Your muscles tense, and you don’t even notice your body’s backward steps. It was clear you wanted to leave, which was mostly the reason they didn’t pressure further, watching as you hurriedly made our way out.

Karina’s eyes were the most trained, her mind racing with thoughts that left her wondering what had gotten you so shaken, visibly out of place. Clueless, she stared at your frame until you’ve reached the door. Only then, you returned her stare.

The watery look in your eyes is more than enough to make her shiver, gripping her chest to get rid of the heaviness that had installed in her heart. Everything was fine, Karina told herself. You’d soon deal with your incident, and be back by her side as fast as you could, as always.

With that in mind, she relaxes, turning her attention back to her friends’ conversation.

Karina doesn’t understand why your distance hurts so much. She should’ve been relieved: you’ve stopped spamming her phone with updates of your day, no longer sending thousands of pictures and videos of things that, according to you, reminded you of herself. She doesn’t have to deal with your constant neediness, nor does she have to reassure you that you were loved, and she missed you. It’s all she’s ever wanted— to not be disturbed at all, being able to focus on work and just have a good time, overall.

Instead, she feels awful; as if something’s missing. Everything feels wrong; she’s unable to concentrate at all, her skin itches and her thoughts constantly linger on you, wondering.

“Hey, Jimin unnie.” Ning looks up to you from the ground, stretching herself out on the floor. “Is Y/n coming soon? She always brings the best snacks.” Resting on the couch, Karina lets out a long sigh, looking at the clock displayed above the dance room’s door.

“She’s not stopping by to watch us today.” The oldest explains, shrugging. She tries as hard as she can not to sound affected by it. “It’s Nutcracker season. She’s rehearsing until late, most likely.”

“Most likely? Haven’t you talked to her today to know that?”

Giselle’s sharp tone hurt, specially since Karina’s phone was currently burning in her pocket, with a lot of unread messages she had sent you. Karina twists her fingers to prevent herself from putting her hands on her face, in a tired manner. “No, I haven’t. Like I said, she’s busy. We haven’t talked much since this morning.”

“Wow, this is serious, then.” Giselle’s lips turn into a smirk, as she brushes the sweat out of her face. “Y/n’s never missed a pre-comeback rehearsal of ours. Like, literally never. Not even if she had her own rehearsals to attend. Have you ever attended any of hers, by the way?”

Karina grits her teeth. She knows Giselle means well: she’s friends with you, and is simply curious. Knowing that doesn’t keep the girl from wanting to punch the Uchinaga for annoying her, though. With the engines running inside her head, Karina tries her best to focus on exhausting her body, in hopes of having the burning sensation ease her troubled mind. Still, she couldn’t help but constantly wonder what was going on in with you. Why were you suddenly so distant?

The questions clouded her head, making it difficult to focus on the choreography they were learning. It seems like she wasn’t making up stuff, after all: Giselle’s questions made it clear you were different, weirdly so.

Nodding, Karina added, “Yeah. It’s not like herself at all.”

Giselle meant to continue the conversation, but the dark look Karina shoots her is enough to get the Uchinaga to gulp, focusing back on her movements, along with the melody of their upcoming song. It was none of her business, anyway.

Once the girls make their way back to the dorms, Karina decides she’s had enough of whatever you were intending to do. She’d stop by and confront you, finally. It frustrated her, having to guess your feelings, specially since you’ve been dating for quite a while — now. But she’d do it, if you were so willing to be petty. She’d be the one to reach out first.

“Thank you, girls. I’ll see you in a bit. I won’t be late, promise.” Karina’s words reverberate through the car, as she waves goodbye to her friends.

Her three bandmates were, as always, more than quick to encourage her to reach out to you, after the distance between you lingered for weeks. Even though it would cost her hours she should be spending in the recording room, they’ve immediately told Karina to talk to you, urging to have both of you in good terms once again.

Ever since you’ve become a shell of the caring, sweet girlfriend you once were, Karina’s been jittery; she was easily irritated and often picked arguments over the simplest things. It was clear the situation was taking a toll on her, in ways she’d never admit. Karina would die before confessing how much she missed your voice, your care, your touches. She’d never admit it. After all, she did constantly complain about how clingy and annoying you were— it was only fair she lived up to her words.

With a sigh, the girl enters your Dance Studio, tugging at the tiny Christmas decorations that hang through the reception area, the doors, and the walls. She realizes she’s never actually been inside the massive building for more than three, maybe four times. Usually, Karina would just wait for you by the car, never bothering to get to know the place you spent the majority of your time, whenever you weren’t attending your classes. Karina mutters a curse under her breath, silently punishing herself for not paying enough attention to you, as she smiles at the receptionist and asks about your location.

“Second four, third door on the left. She’s booked up a private room for a few hours, but they should be near the end, now.” The woman told her, as Karina bowed her in recognition, making her way towards the elevator.

Once she’s walking through the hallways, a big, colored paper with numerous names catches her eyes, standing out in the sea of decorations and adornments. It’s a casting list, and Karina’s chest fills with pride as she reads your name: first in line, cast as the lead dancer. She vaguely remembers of one of your rambles months prior, the low tone of your voice exposing how ashamed you were to confess about your nervousness to audition. At that time, Karina had been so focused on her own stuff she barely gave your topics any attention at all, dismissing them with a few hums until you focused on her rants again.

Now, Karina desperately wished she had paid you more attention. She urged to be active in your life: to know what was happening in your routine, your troubles and whatever was making you happy at the moment. Filled with guilt, the dark-haired girl slides the door slowly, delighting herself in the sight of your perfectly arranged frame, stretching yourself by the bars.

“You haven’t told me you got casted as Clara.” She says, quietly, staring at how precise and eloquent your moves are, even though the music that comes from your phone is faint, nearly inaudible.

You take a look at your girlfriend through the mirrors, trying your best to look indifferent. In reality, the first thought you’ve had as soon as you got cast as the lead dancer for the company’s Winter play was to call her, screaming in excitement for accomplishing something you’ve wanted for so long. But her words were still livid on your mind—which was why you simply shrug, going on with your barre routine, back straightened and arms arched. Once again, it was difficult to act like her stare didn’t burn, consuming you completely, but you reverberated through it.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I only got it because Seowon unnie is injured, anyway. She didn’t even audition.”

“I see.” Karina says. Her eyes examine your body so intensely you gulp, reaching out for your water bottle. She follows your every move, like a fox out for a hunt. “Do you want to have lunch? We can finally have some time for us, then. You’ve been so busy.” Her tone is sarcastic, and you know she’s fully aware of the distance you’ve been putting on between them. Her message is clear: she’s done playing and waiting for you to gather your thoughts and come back to her on your own, as you’d usually do whenever you argued.

Only you weren’t backing up or apologizing, this time.

“I can’t put on weight. I have fittings in 3 days.” Karina frowns, approaching until you were unable to continue your moves.

She looks at your body, eyes searching for any flaws with such hunger, you instantly feel heat invading your cheeks.

“You’re good.” Leaving no space for denial, she turns around and holds the door open, motioning for you to go first. “Now, let’s have lunch.”

“Is it something with your family?” Karina is the first to break the awkward silence that lingers on the lunch table, in hopes to stir anything inside you to make you stop playing with your salad and look at her face. It works: you look up, genuinely confused.

“What? No, they’re good.” You tuck your hair behind your ears, clearly not enjoying the date. If anything, your moves are mechanic, hesitant.

If it were any other day, you’d be talking until you had to grasp for air, filling Karina in every detail of your life for the second or third time, probably. She thinks she’ll go insane at the sight of you, sitting idle on the desk, with big, sad eyes.

“Good. It’s good they’re all well and healthy.” She says, then adds, lifting her brows. Even though she tries not to express how irritated she is by the situation, Karina’s not good at hiding her expressions. “What is wrong? You’re clearly different, but keep acting petty and not telling me what it is.”

Your mouth opens in a perfect “O” as the words leave your girlfriend’s mouth. Does she think you’re that immature? She must simply not care about her own words, then. You’re sure of it. “I’m not fucking petty.”

Karina stares at your arms, tightly crossed against your chest, and at your pout. She almost laughs, thinking about how adorable the sight is, but the fire in your eyes reminds her of the current situation. She leans back on the chair, motioning for you to do something. Anything.

“Talk, then.”

She infuriates you. Just sitting in front of you, so sure she’s done nothing wrong, as if you’re the only one to blame.

“You’re really clueless, aren’t you?” It takes some deep breaths to not point a finger at her, so you just let out a dry laugh. “I’m just giving you what you want.”

“What do you mean by that?” Once again, she looks genuinely confused. Before you get to answer, thought, Karina’s phone rings. She picks up immediately, not at all pleased with how you rolled your eyes at the interruption. It’s Aeri, calling to say Bada had already arrived, and she’s the only one missing for them to start cleaning the choreo.

You get up before she has the chance to say anything, with a fake smile as you wait for her to call the waiter and pay for your date.

“I have to go, too.” You say, walking up slightly faster than her. When it’s time for you to actually part ways, though, you stop, unsure of what to do. You would rather not touch her; it still hurts, and part of you was indeed petty enough to deprive her of your touch, after her complaints.

Karina beats you to it, however. Before you register, she seals your lips in a delicate kiss, one you can’t help but melt on.

“See you soon, Y/n. I love you.” She says, before entering her company’s car and being driven away. She doesn’t wait for you to acknowledge the situation, and you’re happy for that.

Huffing in frustration, you make your way back towards your studio, in hopes to keep your strained relationship out of your mind, even if just for a few hours.

As much as Karina thinks it through, she can’t fantom where she’s gone wrong. You’ve just distanced yourself so suddenly, and it has left a hole in her heart, along with a lingering itch on her skin that makes her want to scratch her arms until they’re red and sore. She’s busy, and she knows you’re busy, too, but she’s had enough of this. She misses you, and she hates herself for complaining about how you’ve always shown her nothing but love. She took it for granted before, but she won’t anymore.

Her palms are slippery as she knocks on the dressing room’s door, not waiting much until she’s given permission to enter. She’s not surprised to find you alone— your friends told her you were usually the last one to change into normal clothes, as crowded spaces made you breathless and anxious. She is, though, surprised to find you looking down at your hands, so small and filled with sorrow, despite having performed flawlessly not even an hour ago.

You’re surrounded by stuffed animals, letters, and gifts from your friends and family, yet it still seems so… empty. And you know what’s lacking.

The girl standing by the door knows it, too.

“You looked beautiful.” Karina says, carefully placing the huge bouquet she bought you on the empty part of the table, the one your hands rest. “As always. My beauty.”

You nod, gripping your chair as you try to ground yourself. Even your body navigated towards her; it was hard not to run into her arms and forget how hurt you were.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You truly didn’t, even though you had sent invites to her and the girls, they were always so busy— they’ve never attended, before.

It’s Karina’s turn to be hesitant — now. Trapping her hands in her pockets, she adds. “I don’t want to be absent from your life anymore.” The statement, all you’ve wanted to hear for so, so long, makes your heart nearly joint. You try to speak, but she’s still immersed in her words. “I miss you. And I have no fucking clue of why you’ve been so distant lately, but I miss your laugh, your touches—fuck, I miss everything about you. I know I’ve been so fucking selfish, and I’ve never realized you were the only one making efforts for us for so long.” You’re still looking at her through the mirror when she places her head on your shoulders, hands playing with your leotard’s thin strap to have something to occupy herself with. “I’m sorry.”

You gulp, looking at the beautiful flowers she got you. Being without Karina had turned you into a mess, but you still feel just as uneasy in her presence. No matter how much you try, you can’t seem to forget her words. How irritated she sounded, at the time, as if you were such a bother.

Your girlfriend was still waiting for her answer, so you take some flowers into your hands, as you ask, hesitant. “Don’t I suffocate you? I’m too much, I guess.”

Karina shakes her head. “Of course not. Where’d you get that from?” Her hands move to your waist, subtly, her light fingers barely noticeable as they brush your covered skin.

“You can stop lying, you know. Just tell me if you do.” Your voice cracks, and it’s enough for Karina to realize how hurt you truly were, by the affirmation.

It comes to her, then, that you weren’t being petty, all over the past weeks. You were just hurt, and needed some time. She feels guilty for being the reason for such feelings.

Hugging you with a strong grip, she decides to be honest. “There was a time… where I felt like it, for a bit. I was overworked, and annoyed at everything. But then you vanished, and… it felt like there was something missing, I guess.”

Her face is all red from the confession, making you smile. It’s a rare occurrence, for Karina to talk about her feelings, and even more for her to confess anything. It’s the real proof she missed you; the girl’s willingness to be vulnerable, even if for a small moment.

You missed her so, so much. As always you’re the first to give in, no longer fighting the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to distance yourself and leave Karina.

“Let’s go home, ‘Jiminie.” You murmur, humming as you feel her hands all over your body, groping and twisting your skin, touch starved for anything you could provide. You whine, looking at her through her lashes. In this love bubble, your drunken state is enough for Karina to kiss you, her sweet taste marked with hunger.

“I don’t want to wait, though. I’ve missed you for too long.” She looks at you dead serious, adding, “Far too long.”

You nod, a moan escaping your mouth when Karina pushes all the makeup and the gifts onto the ground, her lithe hands gripping your thighs and urging you up on the vanity with ease. Once again, her fingers try to get through your leotard, huffing when she’s met with tights instead of bare skin.

You grab her wrists, giggling at her urgent moves. “Don’t.” You warn, turning your head when Karina meets your lips for another breathless, hungry kiss. Her mouth meets the corner of yours, instead. You’d forgotten how much you loved to tease her. “I have to perform tomorrow, and for weeks after that. Don’t ruin them.”

She retreats completely, then. Stepping back, she places her hands up, following your demands. Her body language is relaxed, but her voice is strained, stating how she truly feels. “You better take them off — now. And give me a show.”

You roll your eyes at the lack of sweetness, but another sharp look from Karina and you’re quick to do as told. Her attention is solely on you, admiring your precise moves. You’re just as graceful and beautiful as when you went on stage, and Karina drinks on the vision.

Without rush, you unbutton your costume until it falls from your body, lifting yourself up to let the fabric dangle on the ground. Your body is exposed to your girlfriend’s touch. You’re drenched, desperate to have her after so long apart. You can feel the heat on your skin, as you reach out to have her close once again. It lingers, only deepening with the hungry, messy kiss you and Karina share. Her hands meet your neck, and you gasp the moment you feel her fingers blocking your airways. The dizziness, along with her wet mouth on your chin, then marking your neck as she has her share of you, just as starved. You’re too light-headed to complain about the bruises, being so quick to turn into a moaning, breathless mess.

“I missed you t-too much.” You murmur, drawing your head back as she licks her way down on your body. You watch, starstruck, as she falls down on her knees, hands spreading your thighs with ease.

You take a hold of her long, dark hair, but don’t motion to force your girlfriend’s face into your cunt— you know better than that. Instead, you wait, eagerly, as she parts your folds. Her other hand comes to collect your juices, proving on your sweetness.

“I’m obsessed with you.” She mutters, breath hot on your clothed cunt. Her eyes meet yours, and she’s just as breathless. “Fucking obsessed. Do you understand? This is all mine.”

Without a warning, she licks a big stripe of your pussy, her nose bumping onto your clit without much pressure. The action, though not rough, is more than enough to have lewd, loud sounds come out of your mouth. The only thing on your mind is your girlfriend. Her touches and the pleasure she was always so eager to give you.

“I’ll worship you because you’re mine.”

Perhaps your relationship was built on empty promises. But as for the moment, the only thing that matters is Karina’s hot, warm breath on your skin, and how right it feels.

#sol writes #sol’s works #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina aespa smut #karina x reader #karina smut #karina aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x yn #aespa x you #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #kpop x reader

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roosterr · 10 months

Text

white flag ✹ proglogue

note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.

warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers

ao3

【next】

it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.

clearly, you'd been too optimistic.

which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order, whether you were in the field or not.

the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.

the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.

before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.

and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.

but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.

you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.

"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."

"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."

"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."

"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"

"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."

"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."

their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?

as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.

“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”

"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.

"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.

price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.

soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."

you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.

you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.

"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."

you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.

"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.

before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.

✹✹✹

you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.

either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.

"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.

"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.

"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.

"right."

neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.

after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.

"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.

he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.

"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.

"alright, he can be difficult–"

"really?"

"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"

"is he gonna give me a chance?"

"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"

"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.

"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"

"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.

it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.

you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.

there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.

living room's yours. lock the door. – s

it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.

with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes #praying that hes not ooc

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steddiealltheway · 8 months

Text

(Part Two aka the final part to this)

As soon as Steve parks outside of Eddie's trailer, he races to Eddie's car door and opens it for him.

Eddie shoots him a bewildered look as he makes his way out of his car. "I can open my door, you know."

"But a proper date opens the door for you."

Eddie snorts. "So this is already starting?"

Steve shrugs as he follows Eddie to his front door. "I need all the time I can get to prove you wrong. Plus, I need to see this charm you insisted you have."

Eddie opens the door and dramatically guides Steve inside, quickly closing the door behind them. He stuffs his hands in his pants and avoids eye contact with Steve, staring off as if contemplating something. Eddie shakes his head and looks back at Steve. "Welcome to my home," he says holding his arms wide.

Steve glances around and nods. "It's cozy. I like it."

"No need to lie to me, Harrington."

"I'm not," Steve insists and laughs humorlessly. "I mean, you should see my house. It's huge but extremely uncomfortable. My parents hired a decorator and insisted that we couldn't make a single change. It's just so..."

"Nice to look at but not nice to live in?" Eddie asks, finishing his sentence again.

Steve nods quickly. "Exactly that."

Eddie gives him a small smile and leans back against his kitchen counter. That same distracted look crosses over his face.

Steve can't help but walk closer to him and say, "Eddie?"

Eddie snaps out of it and asks, "Why are you here, Harrington?"

"To prove you wrong and help Dustin," Steve answers easily, leaving out the part about how he needs to know where this will go.

Eddie hums in response and pauses before asking, "So, you're not going to use this against me."

Steve sighs. "Maybe I would've in high school, but no. I won't tell anyone how much I'm going to 'woo' you." Steve throws up air quotes around the word woo which makes Eddie smile a bit.

"Then can I tell you a secret?"

Steve nods.

Eddie pushes off the counter and steps toward him. "I've never been on a date before."

Steve stares at him for a second. "And Dustin still asked you for help?"

Eddie scoffs and walks past him. "No need to rub it in."

Steve runs a hand through his hair and follows after him. "Sorry, that was stupid to say." He grabs Eddie's hand gently and waits for him to turn to him. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely, "Not cool."

Eddie just gives him an unimpressed look.

"It's just hard to share Dustin. I'm used to him only going to me for help. I don't know. It probably sounds dumb."

"It doesn't," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.

Steve glances down at their hands, having forgotten that he had even grabbed Eddie's in the first place. He runs his thumb over the back of Eddie's and says, "Let's do this trial run."

Eddie pulls his hand away and runs it over his face. "Steve, I don't know how to go on a date."

"Which is exactly why we're doing this and whatever else you have planned for Dustin and Suzie after the movie date. Plus, I still have to prove you wrong." Eddie pulls his hair in front of his face nervously. Steve reasons, "Plus, this can be practice for any future dates."

"A date with Steve Harrington," Eddie says with a laugh.

Steve shrugs. "Why not?"

Eddie eyes him and breathes out, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"We can do this trial run, but just because I'm new to this doesn't mean you'll have an easier time winning me over."

Steve smiles and saunters up to him. "Are you sure about that?"

Eddie's eyes flicker down to his lips and back to his eyes, immediately making Steve's heartbeat stutter. He doesn't expect Eddie to card a hand through his hair smoothly, tilting his head back and making Steve's knees buckle a little. Eddie smirks. "Careful, you're not the only one who needs to prove themselves."

He backs away quickly and moves to his kitchen, rummaging around before coming up with a bag of popcorn which he pops in the microwave. Steve clears his throat, trying to gather himself before asking, "How have you never been on a date before?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him.

"I mean, you have all the... charm stuff down."

Eddie smiles. "So, you're already admitting to my charm."

Steve just puts his hands on his hips unimpressed.

Eddie's smile falters before he answers, "Okay, I mean I've hooked up with people at the Hideout, but no one's stuck around to actually go on a date with me."

Steve nods but replies, "That's hard to believe."

Eddie shakes his head. "Let's just say that it's easier for you than it is for me."

It feels like Steve's had this conversation before with... Robin? But why would it feel so familiar? He glances back at Eddie who has a bit of fear in his eyes.

The microwave beeps and suddenly it hits Steve.

He watches as Eddie grabs the bag, cursing slightly when the steam hits him. For some reason the revelation makes Steve feel a bit more nervous as the chance of something happening increases dramatically.

"Hey," Steve says, "It's okay if you're... you know."

Eddie's head snaps up.

Steve holds his hands up. "I promise I won't tell a soul."

Eddie relaxes a bit, but he stays behind the counter as he asks, "And you still want to do this trial run knowing that...?"

"Yeah," Steve says a little bit too enthusiastically, "Now I can be sure that your judgment of my skills is accurate."

This makes Eddie laugh loudly, and Steve immediately smiles. "You know, I think I'm finally starting to see why Dustin likes you so much."

"And why the ladies love me so much?"

"Don't push it, Harrington," Eddie says, pointing a finger at him before grabbing a bowl to put the popcorn in. He grabs the bowl and gestures for Steve to follow him to the couch. "So, you're the expert here, what do you recommend?"

"Like movie options?" Steve asks as he makes himself comfortable.

"Movie options, seating arrangements, where to put the popcorn..." Eddie trails off.

Steve tucks his feet under himself and shrugs. "Depends. If we were Dustin and Suzie I would say to watch something cheesy or something science fiction that they both enjoy. Dustin should definitely watch to see if her hand is free to hold at any point, but that's about it for them."

"And how would it change for us- or me?"

Steve smiles and scoots in closer, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "If it's here then definitely get as comfortable and close as you want. As for a movie, it depends. Do you actually want to watch the movie or do you want background noise?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Classy."

Steve laughs. "No, no, I don't mean like hooking up. I mean if you just want to talk and get to know each other maybe make out a little, you want to pick a movie that you've both seen and won't be upset missing." He glances toward a stack of tapes near them and points at one. "Like Back to the Future, great movie to comment on and talk during, but I wouldn't be upset about missing parts. But I'm guessing you're like Dustin and Star Wars would be a no-go for missing scenes. At least, I was that way when watching."

"You've seen Star Wars? Which one?"

"The one with the little teddy bears."

Eddie hums in response.

"So, what are you thinking for a movie?" Steve asks.

"Back to the Future would be nice, but maybe we do like thirty minutes so we can get to my part of the date without you falling asleep on me," Eddie suggests.

"You already have an idea?"

Eddie shrugs and looks away. "It's kind of always been a date idea in the back of my mind."

"Secret romantic," Steve teases, hand dropping down from the couch to Eddie's shoulder, squeezing lightly.

Eddie tenses up a little, so Steve asks, "Is this okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just not used to it," Eddie answers honestly.

Steve nods and pulls away, moving to put the tape in the VHS player before coming back to the couch. He sits a little further away from Eddie and says, "We can keep our distance if that's more comfortable with you."

Eddie just nods and looks ahead at the screen, tilting the bowl of popcorn toward Steve who takes a handful. He tries to find something to say, but he's struck by sudden nervousness and wonders if Eddie's right about him cruising based on his looks because usually by this point whatever girl he's with is giggling and practically climbing into his lap to get closer to him.

But then Eddie relaxes a bit and throws his arm around the back of the couch which fills Steve with relief. "So, how did you get so close to Dustin? He goes on and on about you, but he never has told me that story."

Steve shrugs, trying not to give away how much the question freaks him out. He tries to keep the answer as close to the truth as he can. "He's friends with Nancy's younger brother so he's kind of always been around I guess. One day, I was bringing flowers to Nancy to apologize for doing something stupid, but Dustin found me instead. He told me that Nancy wasn't home and that he needed a ride and help with something, and the rest is history."

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. "I feel like there's more to the story."

Steve shrugs again and shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

"Like the whole bat with nails that Dustin didn't even look twice at. The story between you two doesn't make sense."

Steve swallows his mouthful and moves closer to Eddie. "What if I told you that it's a story I'll have to come back to another time?"

Eddie twists toward him and tilts his head. "Do you really think that's going to make me less curious? And I see what you're doing trying to distract me with your charm."

Steve tucks a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear and asks, "Well, is it working?"

Eddie just shakes his head and says, "You wish, pretty boy." Nonetheless, he turns back to the movie leaving Steve to privately panic over the way the nickname makes him feel.

And maybe he wants to torture himself or something because next thing he knows, he's asking, "Well, how would you have distracted me?"

Eddie's head slowly turns to him, eyebrows raised. "Do you really want to know?"

Steve blames morbid curiosity as the reason he nods in response.

Eddie sets the bowl of popcorn down - and the implications of that scare Steve shitless - and he moves until their knees are touching. He gets a thoughtful look on his face as he recalls their conversation. "So, I was saying something about how the story between you didn't make sense. And instead of agreeing with it, I would've said something like. You know what doesn't make sense? How someone so gorgeous ended up here with me."

Steve flushes red but simultaneously snorts in response, "That's a horrible line."

"Yet, you're the one who is blushing."

Steve raises his eyebrows and says, "Well, if I got a do-over and time to think like you, then maybe I would've done something like this." Steve leans in and puts a hand on his chest, slouching down so he has to look up through his lashes to say, "Maybe that's a story for another time because right now... I have other ideas about what we could be doing."

Eddie stares down at him, hand slipping off the couch to trail up his back and into his hair. "And here I thought that you had said more intimate didn't mean sex."

Steve smiles and hopes Eddie can't feel his heart pounding in his chest. "It's true, but I also told you that some movies are great background noise to make out during."

Eddie's eyes flicker down to his lips, and Steve can feel his eyes start to flutter shut.

But then, Eddie abruptly pulls back and says, "Okay, yeah, you got me. I understand the Harrington charm."

Steve only smiles slightly, feeling the disappointment settle in his chest at losing the chance to kiss the boy.

"So, I think date part one is covered. Onto my part?" Eddie asks, already standing up and rushing to stop the film.

"Yeah, sure," Steve says.

Eddie glances at him and pauses before beckoning him to follow him. Steve gets up immediately and follows Eddie to where he assumes his room is and suddenly gets a wave of panic.

Eddie glances back and must catch the look. "Relax, I'm just grabbing you some warmer clothes."

Steve nods but stays in the doorway, glancing around at Eddie's room. Something about it feels so Eddie that he can't help but smile at it.

"Here," Eddie says, thrusting a yellow sweater into his hands, "I haven't worn it in forever but it should keep you warm."

"Thanks," Steve says, stripping off his jacket to throw on the sweater before putting the jacket back on. "But why do I need more clothes?"

Eddie smiles. "You'll see." He grabs the blanket off his bed and walks past Steve to the front door. He opens it and says, "After you."

Steve gives him a look of confusion before heading out the front door. Eddie follows behind him and closes the door before grabbing Steve's hand and leading him around the trailer to a ladder which he immediately starts climbing.

Steve tries to advert his eyes from the view Eddie's giving him before he follows him up the ladder, grabbing Eddie's hand once he makes it to the top in an attempt to steady himself. He's never been the biggest fan of heights, but he doesn't want to admit that to Eddie who guides him to the middle of the roof. He lets go of his hand to lay out a blanket and immediately lays down on it, patting the empty spot next to him.

Steve lays down and lets out a deep breath as he sees their view of the night sky, glittering with stars.

"Pretty amazing, right?"

All Steve can do is nod. He doesn't know if he's ever really taken the time to stare at the sky and appreciate its beauty.

"I like to go up here to clear my mind sometimes. But I've always thought it would be nice to share with someone else. But maybe Dustin and Suzie can just lay out in his yard instead because I think it would be life or death before I let one of them up here. Dustin would break a leg or something."

Steve chuckles and glances at Eddie only to find him staring at him as if trying to gauge his reaction. "Thank you for taking me up here," he says sincerely, going as far as reaching into the space between them and intertwining their fingers.

Eddie's hand squeezes his as he turns to look up at the stars, looking so at peace with the world that Steve can't help but stare at him.

Eddie glances at him. "Look at the stars, Steve. You're wasting your time staring at me."

"The stars are here every night though, so maybe I want to spend all the time I can looking at you."

Eddie turns to him with a conflicted look on his face. "Is this your Harrington charm?"

Steve shakes his head. "It's just the truth." He sighs and looks up at the sky. "Do you ever wish you could start over knowing everything you know now?"

"Yes," Eddie answers immediately, thumb running over the back of Steve's hand. "What would you change?"

Steve considers the question for a moment before turning to Eddie and saying, "Everything."

Eddie looks back at him and asks, "Would you change this?"

Steve's eyes search Eddie's, wondering how he wants him to answer the question, but he answers honestly, "I wouldn't have been such a dick earlier, and I would've changed this from a trial date to a real date."

Eddie whispers, "There's nothing stopping it from changing now."

Steve shifts onto his side and looks down at him. "Are you sure you want a date with King Steve of all people?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I don't think that's you. So why don't you prove me wrong?" he asks, running a hand through Steve's hair before resting it on the back of his head.

Steve lets Eddie take the lead to slowly drag him in, pausing when they're close enough to be breathing each other's air. "Are you sure you want this?" Eddie asks.

"More than you could possibly know," Steve replies before closing the gap between them and gently brushing their lips together before breaking the kiss to look Eddie in the eyes and make sure he's okay.

Eddie just pulls him back in and kisses him as if he's pouring everything he's feeling into the kiss which Steve returns just as passionately, unable to deny the truth that no kiss has ever made him feel this way before.

He cradles Eddie's face as they deepen the kiss and Eddie tries to pull him in impossibly closer, both hands making a mess of his hair until Steve pulls away, breathing hard before moving in to kiss him again as sweetly as he can before he rests their foreheads together.

They both try to catch their breath, and neither dares break the silence between them.

Eventually, Steve gives Eddie a gentle kiss on the forehead and rolls away onto his back, finding Eddie's hand and intertwining their fingers again.

They both stare up at the stars, not looking at each other until Eddie finally breaks the silence to ask, "Steve, where do we go from here?"

Steve turns to him and squeezes his hand. "I don't know," he confesses. "But what if we didn't think about it now? What if we just see what happens?" Steve asks, not wanting to think of the reality of their situation.

Eddie nods. "I like that idea."

So, they both turn back to the stars, wishing that their paths will be able to cross again.

Little do they know that their wishes will be granted soon.

(Super quick happy ending in the tags)

Tag List <3 (Sorry this took longer than planned):

@estrellami-1 @resident-gay-bitch @7-starboi @steves-yellow-cardigin @anaibis @saramelaniemoon @big-ol-regret @piemaker-from-gallifrey @queerriotgrrrl @sharingisntkaren @zoeweee @goodolefashionedloverboi @l0st-strawberry @dragonmama76 @pluto-pepsi @its-a-me-a-morgan @tiny-enthusiast @aol19 @pansexualhousecat @paintsplatteredandimperfect @thesuninyaface @messrs-weasley @gemini-local @paperbackribs

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #So after the man hunt Eddie sees Nancy and Steve and is like #of course me and Steve would have never worked #and he basically tells Steve that he should go after nancy #and Steve is like ???? did you forget about our whole date???#Also their little moment in the woods with Eddie telling Steve that he's actually a good dude is him telling him everything he wanted to sa #During their first date but he didn't #But Steve and Eddie dont get the chance to talk things out and they're filled with misunderstandings until Steve drags Eddie's body through #the portal and they reunite at the hospital where Steve basically tells Eddie he's an idiot for assuming he wanted to be with Nancy #Because he can only imagine being with Eddie #And they live happily ever after

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augustinewrites · 4 months

Text

[twenty-two minutes to midnight]

hange zoe is a special brand of stupid.

at least that’s what levi thinks as his friend says, stupidly, “if neither of us are kissing anyone at midnight, i guess i’ll have to kiss you, levi.”

levi ackerman makes it his special mission to be as far as possible from his friend before the clock strikes 12. when it comes to hange, his ever-scowling lips are for critical judgment and insults only.

“pass,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes when they pout at him.

“but what about all those times you asked me how to—”

“this conversation is over,” he deadpans, emphasizing his point by walking away.

but levi has learned long ago that there’s no walking away from hange. they drags themselves up and away from the table to follow, throwing a heavy arm around his shoulders. “why not though? are you planning on kissing someone else tonight?”

their tone is teasing, but their eyes give them away. hange’s fishing for a specific answer.

“no,” he answers much too quickly to be nonchalant.

his friend just smirks. “she’s here, you know. erwin said she just got back a few weeks ago.”

“i had no idea.” (he already knew.)

“she’s still single.”

“i don’t care.” (he might care.)

they hum thoughtfully. “so you wouldn’t mind if i kissed her instead?”

levi doesn’t answer this time, shoving his friend’s arm off his shoulder and trying to disappear into the party.

erwin’s parties were always too big, in his opinion. he packed his penthouse apartment to the brim, and how anyone had this many friends, he had no idea. at least the sheer amount of people would allow him the opportunity to slip away, maybe hide in some quiet corner wearing a scowl that could repel the bravest souls.

(and if he hides, there’s no way he’ll run into you, right?)

[twelve minutes to midnight]

by merely thinking of you, levi’s mother would probably say he was tempting fate. his mother was almost always right, loathe as he was to admit it.

because, yeah, it’s barely twenty minutes later when he spots you across the room, sipping champagne while chatting with miche and hange.

you have your back to him, but he knows that it’s you. it’s instinct— the way his eyes linger down the familiar shape of your body. he traces each curve draped in blue silk the way his hands once did.

levi could go over there. he could tell you that you look gorgeous in that dress. he could tell you that he misses you, needs you, loves you…

but then miche would make that face, and hange would fail to bite back that smile, and levi would have to block both their numbers and all their social media accounts again.

he could tell you these things, but he’s never figured out how. levi likes to handle things on his own and refuses to show weakness to anyone.

so he turns on his heel and heads in the opposite direction instead, towards the kitchen to look for a drink. he wasn’t really one for alcohol, but he needed it tonight.

he’s frowning over the various bottles when erwin appears, a knowing grin on his face. he has a habit of materializing out of nowhere when levi’s at his weakest.

“looking for anything in particular?” the blond asks.

“just a beer,” he mutters.

erwin hums, contemplative, then lists various drinks. “let’s see. there are have craft brews, ipa, winter wheat—”

levi makes a face. when the fuck did beer get complicated? “what the hell is a winter wheat?”

“it’s beer, levi,” he chuckles, shooting him an amused look. it lasts a second too long, and is followed by, “you saw her, didn’t you?”

“what does that have to do—”

“are we talking about levi’s love life?”

“no, we’re not,” levi snaps, shooting miche a warning glare that his dumb friend chooses to ignore.

“come on, we’ve known about your crush for years now,” the man continues, judging him slightly. “remember when you got drunk on hange’s birthday?”

“ah, yes,” erwin sighs, as if he’s recalling a particularly fond memory. “when you announced that you sorely missed—”

“oh my god. i hate my life,” levi mutters, turning on his heel and making his escape as the two grown men giggle like schoolgirls. he grabs the most expensive looking bottle of liquor, yanking the cork out and tossing it onto the counter.

“maybe you’ll hate your life less if you get laid!”

levi flips them both off before slipping out onto the balcony, content to hide out here until the countdown is over. the door slowly slides shut behind him, muffling the mellow music and cheery laughter inside.

he sets the bottle he’d swiped on the parapet, looking out at the twinkling city lights. these parties were much too suffocating, full of bright-eyed people that seemed keen on conversing with him no matter how reproachful his gaze.

he doesn’t turn around when he hears the door slide open and shut behind. he already knows who’s followed him outside.

winter here provides a crisp cool, but levi doesn’t mind, slipping his suit jacket off and tossing it onto a patio chair. you don’t seem to mind it either, bare back pressed against the parapet as you smile over at him.

“you didn’t say hello,” you murmur, leaning towards him. levi steals a glance at you, eyes wandering down the column of your neck to the tempting plunge of your neckline.

“hey,” he grunts, holding out the bottle he’d swiped in offering.

you accept it, taking a small sip. your face immediately pinches in displeasure, causing levi’s to crack with a small grin.

“how’s your night?” you ask out of nowhere.

“bored,” he answers stiffly, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the patio. “though i don’t suppose you actually care.”

you chuckle at that, your amusement barely audible over the breeze. you both know that’s not true. “just making conversation.”

“you’re pretty shit at it.”

the air between you both is suddenly hot, but levi shivers at the brush of your fingers against the corded muscle of his arm. your touch burns like fire across his skin as you murmur,

“shut me up then.”

his gaze falls to your mouth, pulse thundering in his ears as he leans forward and closes the distance. levi moves on instinct, locking a hand around your hip and pulling you closer. he swallows your surprised gasp with a kiss, but you don’t pull away.

he kisses you softly at first, each touch and movement of his mouth hesitant as he tests your boundaries. your hands move up his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt collar and somehow pulling him closer, kissing him back with a fervor that makes him dizzy. your insistent mouth parts his lips, sending tremors through his nerves and awakening sensations he wants to feel again. it’s a good kiss. not bad for the first one you share in front of your friends (who are all gathered at the window) announcing your relationship as the clock the strikes midnight.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot x reader #aot fluff #levi ackerman x you

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yandere-kokeshi · 3 months

Note

How would TF141+Konig,Nikolai react if their reader drunk and told them about how reader family used to sold reader at brotherel.

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about prostitution, mention of trauma, and foreshadowing on murdering.

A/N: Definitely took my time writing this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Captain “Price” John:

Whiplashes at you, nearly breaking his neck as he places his cold-glass down on the table.

“Sorry, what?”

He’s pissed. He cannot fathom why anyone could possibly do something so awful to his sweet darling, but he’s heartbroken, too. His heart shatters when you explain it, going into detail of what happened. And soon, John’s hands find themselves on yours within a heartbeat, thumbs grazing over your knuckles, and squeezes them occasionally.

If you blow it off, saying it’s no biggie, John gets angrier. It’s not fine, and his tone is firm, and large hands that’s on top of yours aren’t letting go. And soon, he softens — bringing you into his lap, kissing the crown of your head. Hands running up and down your back, whispering to you of how special you are.

And soon enough, later that night when you’re sleeping, his mind is wide-awake and angered. Wondering if your family is worthwhile to get a visit, teach ‘em a lesson or two.

From now on, John is so gentle with you; checking in with you first and won’t push you for anything. He even suggests therapy, or perhaps couple-therapy, to help you in some way. He wants you to know he’s here for you, as that’s all you have.

Your parents are nowhere to be seen. The news has reported them missing, and it’s weird that John had come home after an hour when their bodies had been found, right?

—

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Whiplashes so hard, his neck popped as he looked at you. The cheap beer that you and him were drinking is set down, the loud clanking making the silence even louder, and his brown-doe eyes are staring at you.

“You bein’ serious?”

Simon is fuming, absolutely seething with rage at how they used and hurt you. And he’s extremely tempted to find all of them and break every single bone in their miserable body. How on the earth could they hurt and betray you, you, the literal light in his life like that?

“Love, you can’t jus’ drop a bomb like that and expect me to be all natural with it,” His tone seethed. He tries to soften it, he really does, but his rage with what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through the built-in cracks. And it’s clearly showing his not-so pretty side.

But as soon as he sees your face, his heart re-breaks all over again. And within seconds, he pulls you into his arms, whispering sweet words of love and promises of safety; kissing every part he can reach until you tell him to stop.

If you haven’t already cut ties with your family, Simon immediately does it for you — anger shown and his tone sharp. He removes them from any way possible of how they could connect to you, even going as far to put a restraining order against them. But, if they decide to be snide, and try to take you back? Simon is more than happy to use his physical strength to scare them away.

—

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

He laughs uncomfortably, before he really thinks and chews on the words a little more. His eyebrows crease against each other, fingers tightening around the beer bottle, as he looks at you very concerned.

“Wait– what was that?”

Kyle watches you go on, rambling about it as if it’s not a big deal, and he’s in pure shock. He’s not sure if you’re putting a brave face on, or if it’s the alcohol, but either way, it’s making him mad. His hands are shaking, his heart thundering in his chest, mind going a mile a minute, trying to understand the concept, but he can’t seem to get past the anger part.

“Baby… when did this happen?” he generally questions, uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he looks for something in you. He’s worrying. Wonder what it’s done to you, someone he loves so deeply, and he can’t fathom the idea that something so horrific happened to you.

Within seconds, he apologizes. Brown eyes looking at yours, barely forming tears. He’s pulling you into a tight hug, holding you deeply, and finding a way to blame himself. If he’d known you sooner, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. He could’ve protected you.

But, that doesn’t help the situation — so he focuses on you, helping you through things and ensuring you’ll be safe. Because you’ll always be with him.

Kyle tries to help you in every shape and form, making sure your boundaries are set and that he follows them knee-deep. And that, of course, your family doesn’t come near you. If they try to push through the cracks, he’s immediately acting viciously. And it’s not pretty.

—

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

He chokes on his drink, coughing up a storm. Hitting him like a ton of bricks, and somehow, you look at him like he’s the one who said some type of sex joke at the wrong time.

“I– beg your pardon?”

He’s right in the same area with Ghost, furious in many aspects. His face shows it. His body language, and thick voice. When you’re describing the multiple incidents, it just makes him want to track down your family and rip them in two.

Comfort is immediately given, Johnny’s arms find yours within seconds, and you’re brought into a cuddle session — one where he kisses every part, and promises that you’ll never have to face them again. He looks at you, blue eyes just admiring you before kissing your cheek, “Nobody will hurt ya’ again, swear on my and ma’s life, sweets.”

And he goes with it. Days pass, and he’s still thinking about it. He sees you so strongly, and how you’re able to go about your day and act as if it’s normal; his heart beats faster at your sewn thoughts of even crying.

Without saying, Johnny despises your family. A bitter emotion that can be easily shown if you bring them up into a conversation. His hands crunch in remembrance of their scared face, and you won’t be seeing them anymore. You can’t.

—

König:

He just looks at you, seemingly going deeper into your soul. Which, of course, creeps you out. König watches you explain, with a flushed look, and he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek.

“Hase, what’d you say?”

He just keeps staring at you. And he doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, because he’s not — never in a million years, but it’s devastating to him. How could someone, a family that you’re supposed to trust, do that to you?

“König?” your voice brings him out of his deep thoughts, bloody thoughts, and he just looks at you before bringing you into his chest; a man, so large and beefy, has a voice so little and fragile, that you could barely hear it. He sighs, “Why did you hide it? I’d much rather you talk to me, okay?”

He’s obviously affected, but not as much as you are. He’s in a state of disbelief, and the fact you just blurted it out, whilst in a vulnerable state, makes him sick.

He’s unbelievably more clingy the next few days, ensuring you know your own worth and how strong you are. Everywhere you go, he’s touching you — smoothing the wrinkles in your clothes as his hands crawl underneath the fabric. Kissing you and nearly suffocating you with his weight.

As for your family, he ignores and diverts the questions of them into a different conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you, but with the things he’s done, König is certain you’d be smart to connect the dots.

—

Nikolai:

Not a single laugh, or fun look comes from Nikolai. He’s immediately concerned, the shot glass being put down as he really looks at you, biting his lip.

“Think that’s enough alcohol, Lyubimyy. Why don’t we head to bed, hm?”

He doesn’t necessarily react — but more so tries to make you sidetrack so you two can focus on something else. Until, the next morning, is where he re-brings it up and asks. He’s concerned, dark eyes showing sadness that’s covered by anger. But your feelings matter. They will always come first. And when he sees your reaction, Nikolai quickly understands, “We can talk whenever you’re ready, mkay lovey?”

Nikolai comforts you with the best of his abilities, ensuring that you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite, and you’re so strong. His hugs become deeper, kisses become longer and more intimate.

And the gifts he brings home, even to the grocery store, are enormous. His sly smile as he carries them in definitely takes your head off some things, no?

Your parents are immediately cut out of your life. Nikolai has secrets of his own, and once in a while, he has to take out the dirty trash, right? Before he leaves for the day, a mission needed for Laswell, he promises to be back before 5 PM; and he does, arriving all giddy and flirty. But his hands seem a bit too warm, a bit odd.

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my-love-is-sunlight · 24 days

Text

Turmoil

Law x gn reader

Warnings: little fight between Law and reader but nothing crazy, sfw and fluff at the end, good ending, FEELINGS

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: In which you save Law’s life and he gets mad at you

Masterlist

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The moonlight danced with the dark sea water, accompanying you in your office as your eyes struggled to stay focus on the paper work in front of you, it was hard to tell the time when you lived in a submarine, but your body knows its well past 2 am, begging for you to snuggle into bed and drift away

From the shadows behind your door emerged your Captain, looking as tired as you did, a brow arching in confusion

“What are you doing?” His low raspy tone makes you jump on your seat as your eyes open wide in his direction, before they roll in annoyance and your eyebrows furrow

“Doing the work that YOU assigned me, Captain” the tone of your answer lets Law know that you’re still mad at him

“Should’ve thought better before-“ suddenly, and surprisingly you interrupt his so re-used speech he had given you a million times over since that evening

“Oh give me a break!” You trow your pen on the table, slamming your hands before gifting him the nastiest look he had ever witness painted on your face

Some days ago, the Heart Pirates found themselves in yet another fight were things weren’t going well for their Captain. You were the crews strategists and whenever you were caught in situations like these you were always by Laws side, but this time he had made you promise to stay out of trouble for this one, which in all honesty had struck your pride. Everyone knew how relentless of a fighter you were, that’s why you had gained such a position in the crew, so being told to back up was like a punch in the stomach, specially coming from your trusted Captain

Trafalgar Law was a stubborn, stubborn man, and that sometimes got him in more trouble that he could handle, as the enemies arrow flew trough his direction and a sword was drawn to his heart, in a blink of an eye you jumped in to protect him, without a second thought

Nothing bad had happened to you, you had came out victorious with a couple of scars nothing out of the ordinary, so when you were met with Laws angry eyes, a long speech on why what you had done was absolutely stupid and a punishment, you were left puzzled, and humiliated in front of all of your crew mates

Since then, you had been locked in your office, getting the extra work the doctor had assigned you so that ‘you learn how to listen’ done, and avoiding any words and looks of his

“I saved you” you got up of your chair as you walked towards the frame of your Captain, he may tower over you, but that would not stop you

“You put your life on the line y/n-ya, that I don’t tolerate�� he answers you with a stern voice, eyes examining your every expression

“I did what I did because I wanted to, you may be the one giving orders around here, but you do not get dictate when or how I die”

As you get closer, Trafalgar cannot help but start to feel that maybe he was being selfish, after all, you had given him the greatest of gifts

Knowing there’s someone out there that is willing to die for you, no questions asked

But at the same time, the mere thought of losing you because he couldn’t be up to the task of protecting you boiled his blood and made his stomach turn a million times over

“Then maybe, you shouldn’t have joined my crew in the first place” he blurts out, every single word hitting you like a venomous snake bite, your heart clenching at the thought of being unwanted

Your greatest fear

Suddenly your body language does a 180, your anger being replaced with what could only be perfectly described as heartache. Almost immediately the doctor regrets even stepping foot in your office, before he can say anything you’re already back on your seat

“Sorry Captain” the pain in both your voice and your face makes Law hurt, and panic, and regret, yet words fail to come out of his mouth… just when he needed them most

“Don’t stay up too late” is all he can say before closing the door behind him

Next days in the Polar Tang were a pain, Law had been quite more irritable around everyone, even snapping on poor Bepo. You were either locked away working or in your room and sometimes even skipping dinner just to not cross paths with the damn surgeon, and if you were unlucky enough to do so, you would turn away immediately

Everyone knew something was up between the two of you, Ikkaku and Penguin had showed up at your office asking if everything was ok. You decided to keep it to yourself, you knew if Law found out you’re talking about him behind his back, about personal matters? Yeah, you would be dead to him, and even when mad, you respected him

Shachi was send to dig around Law, but when your name crossed his lips the doctor immediately shot down the conversation, this confirming their suspicions

But then, you finished the damn paper work, and guess who was the one you needed to hand it to?

You tried to convince anyone else to deliver the papers to Laws office, but it seemed like everyone had catch up and found this as an opportunity for you to make up with him, frustrating you beyond comprehension. They had even got to Bepo first

“Sorry y/n, I was told to tell you to deliver it yourself” he offered you a sympathetic smile, afraid of your answer, you just sighed defeated and thanked him anyways

“Just go in and hand him the papers! That easy” Ikkakus voice rings in your head as you try to wash your nervousness away in front of Laws office. Hesitantly you knock on the door, feeling lightheaded at the mere touch of it

“Go away Shachi” the doctors muffled voice meets your ears, confused you answer with the tiniest “It’s me, Captain” After a pause that felt like it lasted a decade, thinking he may had shambles himself out of the office, you hear a “Come in” so you do

You enter the office slowly, almost as if you made any sudden moves you’ll get caught like a pray in the wild. Trafalgar is sitting at his desk, his hands fidgeting and eyes following your form

“I have the paper work you asked for” you stay pretty far away from the desk, fear written all over you making Law feel twice as worse as he had been feeling this past few days

“Thank you y/n-ya, just leave them here” his voice sounded softer, but this didn’t made you feel any less scared as you approached the desk, gaze fixated on the papers in your hand. As you positioned your hard wok on the desk Law makes the uncharacteristic decision to hold your wrist before you retrieved, a shock running through your whole body at the action

Law’s heart beats a million times per second as he finds the right words to approach the matter, maybe he should’ve thought about them before taking your hand, your soft skin touching his freezing him. You lock eyes for a second and finally Law understands everything he had done wrong, from being ungrateful, rude, harsh and just overall mistreating the person he cares for the most

He would rather being shot than admit he was in the wrong, but he knew if he didn’t he’ll lose you, which was the reason he had caused this mess in the first place, so he swallows his pride

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed at you in front of everyone, or made you do all this work and… saying those awful things”

The fear washes from your body as you hear his apology, something you never thought you’d witness in your life, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding since you stepped foot on the door, offering Law a genuine smile that made his heart fall to his feet

“It’s ok Captain”

“Law” he says, letting your hand go as his own insecurities disappear, thinking you were gonna bash at him after his apology

“Law” you parrot back, earning him another sweet smile of yours

“I just… didn’t wanted to lose you, I was so lost in that thought that I didn’t realize that’s exactly what I was doing” you had seemed to have pushed a button because he just couldn’t stop the thoughts that just fell directly to his tongue and overflow like a cascade out of his mouth

Laws eyes open wide as he sees you approach the other side of the desk, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders like the softest blanket, hugging him while he still sits on the chair, your head resting in top of his hat. The surgeon stays completely still, taken aback

“Thank you for apologizing Law, I really appreciate it” you whisper making his face bright red and his hands shake, the way your body weights over his makes his brain malfunction and his heart go wild

You let go and approach the door of the office, Law remaining completely broken and flushed in his seat

“See ya’ at dinner.. Law” you say his name mischievously, giggling after before you disappear

The Captain stays still for a while, alone in his office, thinking about everything being open about his thoughts and feelings had gained him, and how addicting his name sounded falling from your sweet lips

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

This came to me in a dream and wrote it in almost one sitting lmao, feel free to request anything you wanna read I am having so much fun writing his emo ass

Reblogs are appreciated ;)

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temis-de-leon · 1 month

Text

Demon Brothers as Single Fathers

What if the brothers already had a kid when MC first appeared in the Devildom?

Characters: demon brothers, gn! kid and gn! MC

Masterlist

CW: lesson 16, death during childbirth mentioned, but there's nothing explicit. Some brothers are better fathers than others, but they all love their kid with a passion. Romantic interest towards MC at the end

Lucifer

There´s no way he’s having a kid with a random woman. I already posted a headcanon regarding demonic pregnancies, stating them as difficult, so my guess here is that he had a long-term relationship and his partner died during childbirth.

Of course, he’d cope with her death just like he coped with Lilith’s: hiding his feelings. He had his sister’s room hidden in the House of Lamentation without any of his brothers knowing, so it makes sense that he’d hide everything regarding his former partner from everyone, including his child.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he loves that kid, but he is who he is. A strict parent that wants his family to be perfect, obedient and loyal to Lord Diavolo. His child might get an obvious special treatment, but they still have to reach their father’s standards.

All of that, mixed with the load of paperwork he has to take care of on the daily, makes bonding time very limited.

When MC arrives, he makes sure they know not to bother the kid, his threats visible to anyone with eyes.

We know MC, however. They meddle and they become friends with most of the brothers very easily, so it’s understandable that the kid wants to get close to them too.

Lucifer tries really hard to break that friendship, not trusting MC at all, but the more effort he puts in that task, the more effort his kid puts in disobeying him. And we all know Satan is helping them just to anger Lucifer.

It all reaches an end when MC frees Belphie from the attic.

The kid doesn’t understand the situation, why their new friend is all bruised and bloody on the floor and why their uncle is laughing in such evil way.

Lucifer only gets how much his kid loves the human when he sees their distraught over MC’s death and their tears of relief when MC reappears in perfect conditions.

Time passes and the family is whole again, granting the kid a new feeling of happiness and comfort they’ve never felt before. Lucifer feels obligated to rethink the situation when he sees that.

Then comes the last day of MC’s stay at the Devildom and he knows he’ll regret not showing his desire of deepening their relationship before they leave.

His kid and his brothers are not the only ones that need MC anymore.

Mammon

I kind of imagine him having a child with a one-night stand, to be honest. For the sake of this fic, the other parent is not in the picture, but Mammon loves kids, so there’s no doubt he’d keep his own.

And oh, how much he spoils them. He saves money just for them. Does he go right back into bankruptcy after that? Yes, but the intention is there, you know.

I also think the brothers would use the child to blackmail him, like “you’re such a scumbag, Mammon, you’re going to disappoint the kid”. A dick move, but they are assholes to Mammon most of the time.

And then comes MC, rocking Mammon’s world and, by extent, the child’s.

No matter how old the kid is, they can sense their father’s love towards the human. It’s almost painful to see and it brings so much second hand embarrassment, but Mammon’s happiness makes everything worth it.

Especially when MC starts to defend Mammon from his brothers’ insults.

The kid promotes themselves from child to matchmaker.

They spoil their uncles' plans with MC so they can spend time with their father, boasting Mammon’s confidence and telling MC how good he is and how good of a couple they’d make.

At first MC thinks it’s pure childhood innocence, not suspecting the kid is acting on ulterior motives, but Mammon knows what his kid is doing.

He tries to defend his status as too good to be interested in a mere human, let alone date them. Of course, the child sees right through his bullshit.

No one stands a chance against his little hellspawn, not even him.

Suffice to say, MC and Mammon establish their relationship long before the year ends.

Leviathan

I love Levi, I truly do, but c’mon guys. I doubt he has any friends outside the online world, let alone a partner; we can all agree he’s a virgin. So, for him to have a child, I think he would’ve had to be either really lucky or unlucky (depending on how you see it), meaning that his brothers took him out of his comfort zone so he could lose his virginity and he left that one girl pregnant.

I think the mother wouldn’t have wanted to be in a relationship with him, leaving him more reclusive than ever. He needed his brothers’ help to lose his virginity and now not even the mother of his child wanted to stay with him? Yeah, he’s not leaving his room ever again.

It’s difficult for him to bond with the kid at the beginning due to the lack of knowledge on how to take care of a child and the kid being born out of a loveless meaningless one-night stand.

He watches and buys anything family-related, finally understanding that the way he became a father doesn’t have to influence their relationship, so he steps up really quick.

Don’t worry, the brothers offer their help the whole time.

They spend most of the time in his room, bonding over anime, manga, videogames and cosplay, especially about TSL. He also forces himself to get out of his room more often for the sake of his kid, even if it’s minimal.

He still distrusts MC when they arrive, not paying them any attention, but he has to reconsider a little bit when he sees the kid so interested in them.

The whole TSL quiz happens and he’s surprised to see not only Mammon and Beel helped MC, but his child too. He feels betrayed and irrationally mad at all of them for an hour or less, just until the kid insists on MC’s genuine interest on TSL and convinces him to give them a chance.

After that, their friendship develops quicker than anyone could've ever anticipated, as well as Levi’s crush on MC.

Another kid that evolves into a matchmaker, although their methods are more dramatic due to being based on anime and manga.

The rest of the brothers have a lot of fun witnessing the whole thing.

Satan

My man has contacts, he knows people all around the kingdom, he fucks. I’m not sure if the child came out of a long-term relationship or a one-night stand, but his contacts definitely have something to do with it.

His whole mission is to treat his child better than Lucifer ever treated him.

No baby voice at all, what nonsense is that? When he reads to them at night he uses different voices according to each character, same as when they play.

The type of parent that wants to respect his kid so much he kind of treats them like an adult. Full conversations and everything. More like monologues, actually, but Satan is patient enough to wait for his kid’s answer, even if it’s a babble.

Cats everywhere. Toys, clothes, bedsheets… You know the drill.

Overall, Satan puts his whole heart into his child’s development.

And when MC arrives, he’s only curious about them because Lucifer is on edge. He’d prefer if his child was left to their own devices, living their life in peace with no human bothering them for no reason.

Then he swaps bodies with Lucifer.

Boy oh boy.

The moment he sees his child running to his brother instead of him, he’s spitting fire. MC intervenes just when the kid starts to get scared, something he’s extremely grateful for.

After the pact is made, both him and the kid see MC in a completely different light, but he doesn’t think about taking them out on a date until his child trips and falls while playing in the garden.

MC tends to them, dries their tears and cleans their bloody knees before using some cute bandaids on them. Cat-themed bandaids.

How could he say no to that?

Asmodeus

One-night stand one-night stand one-night stand one-night stand.

One-night stand? YES.

I’m surprise he doesn’t have a legion of children, Hercules style, but oh well, what do I know.

I like to think the mother tried to stay, but Asmo is a certified narcissist who loves spending time with himself and who’d also love the idea of having a mini him running around, ready to try new clothes on every opportunity and match him.

It’d be difficult to stay in a family like that, with a partner that monopolizes the child’s time so selfishly. It’s bad, but I could understand if the mother chose to leave. I don’t even know if Asmo would care, given that it was a one-night stand with no feelings involved, and he’d probably believe himself to be enough.

Asmo is as dirty minded as ever and he still has various relationships, but he tries to tone down really hard, at least in front of his kid.

They’re partners in crime above all, their chemistry is insane. ‘Don’t talk to me or my son ever again’ type of relationship.

Although the kid doesn’t have Asmo’s charming powers, they’re cunning. Doe eyed with a shiny glare and a brilliant smile, who could say no to them? Sometimes they even fool their own father.

Both of them are pretty superficial, but kind-hearted at the bottom of their hearts. It just takes some time and effort to see that.

The kid treats MC the same way Asmo does, although they have no ill intent, they just want to be like their father. So when Asmo starts to show some interest in MC, pursuing a friendship, so does his child.

Partners in crime, remember? It doesn’t take long for the child to act coy and cute, turning MC’s interest to Asmo. Again, no charm nor manipulation, but a little help from an innocent hand never hurts anyone, does it?

Beelzebub

I don’t have a single idea where the child came from, but if there’s something I’m sure of it’s that they’re each other’s best friend.

Beel takes them everywhere, in his arms, strapped to his chest or sitting on his shoulders, he doesn’t care, but they’re together all the time.

Scared to his very core of losing them, but tries not to be overbearing, trusting his brothers to take care of them when he can’t, mostly Lucifer and Belphie.

They're the most important reason to control himself, Beel feels guilty when he lets loose and scares his child. Seeing your father eat a column can’t be pleasant, after all.

Another one that ignores MC when they get there, preferring spending time with his child. Now more than ever, since Belphie apparently went to the human realm as an exchange student.

When he breaks MC’s wall and they’re forced to share his room, he’s introduced to the dilemma of whether letting them sleep in Belphie’s bed while he shares his own with his kid or letting them sleep in his bed, with his kid in Belphie’s and him on the floor.

He’s very reluctant to let anyone but his twin sleep in the other bed. His nightmares lessen when he shares his space with the child as well, so Beel’s very conflicted.

MC offers to be the one sleeping on the floor, something he immediately refuses, so he finally agrees to let them both sleep in his bed while he’s on the floor.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

It isn’t until MC defends him from his own brother that he starts to think of them as a true friend. He trusts them with his kid and he even feels okay leaving them alone while he’s out doing his own things.

Days after MC goes back to sleeping in their room, his child confides in him how much they miss having the human with them and Beel can’t help but agree.

He asks for his child’s permission before taking MC out on a date.

Belphegor

Had the child with a situationship, but the mother thought he would be too absent to be a good father. She tried to leave with the kid, but Belphie insisted on keeping them. Being one of the Avatars of the Devildom, he had the upper hand.

As much as he tries to be present, he can’t help but fall asleep most of the day, so Beel takes the role of second father. Still, Belphie wants to be in the same room as his kid all the time, even when unconscious.

He’s able to enter other people’s dreams, so his favourite way of bonding is at night, interrupting his child’s nightmares and transforming them into beautiful dreams where they can do whatever they want to do.

He even made versions of Lilith and Beel for them to be together during those dreams.

Kind of entitled, to be honest.

Belphie is a brat and so is his kid, but the child at least has the benefit of the doubt.

When Lucifer imprisons him he’s ready to destroy the house. The only way he can talk to his kid now is through dreams and even then he isn’t sure what to tell them. In the end he decides to let the kid be, but he’s always on edge, trapped, not knowing what’s happening until everyone goes to bed.

MC’s presence feels like a gift. A pathetic gift, but a gift nonetheless.

He asks about his kid and he seethes when MC tells him they’re becoming friends, how much they like spending time with the child.

He focuses so much on revenge that he doesn’t even realize what the kid could think of him if he carried along with his plans; how they could feel when all of it is done.

Killing MC is satisfying and leaves him wanting so much more.

That look from his child, his own blood, takes it all away.

Why are they crying? Why are they hiding away from him? Trying to reach MC’s corpse despite Lucifer’s words or Beel’s grabbing hands, screaming in terror when uncle Mammon doesn’t answer their questions.

Then MC reappears, looking as perfect as ever, and Belphie is overwhelmed with relief, convinced that maybe his kid will stop looking at him that way.

But that doesn’t happen.

He sleeps with Beel that night, feeling lonelier than ever, hands aching and reaching for a smaller body that isn't there. He can’t find them in their dreams when he falls asleep and when morning arrives and he goes to the bathroom, he makes sure there’s no blood under his fingernails.

It takes days before his kid can even look at him without that angry pout on their face. They tell him they’ve been sleeping with MC, listening to their advice so they can mend their relationship with him.

Ever since then, Belphie can’t help but blush whenever MC is in the room.

Tagging: @deepestartisanhumanoidshark

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me x gender neutral reader

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strniohoeee · 7 months

Text

Belong To The City

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT THIS IS A 18+ STORY BEYOND THIS POINT

Pairings: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️

Enemies-ish to lovers, friends-ish to lovers

Synopsis: Chris is such an arrogant asshole to Y/N, but when she snaps back he loses all control and pulls her to the side ⚠️THIS IS SMUT SO LEAVE ME ALONE⚠️

Warnings⚠️: This is straight up smut okay, so any young person PLZ PLZ go away and get off tumblr and go to bed please. Oh god what’s in here?? Manhandling, spit, mean Chris, crazy dirty talk. Mannnn idek this shit is intense, and I’m not even a Chris girl, but I put my whole pussy into this one

Song for the story: Belong To The City-PARTYNEXTDOOR

Right now I was currently standing in the corner of the living room of the triplets house as they had a party going around for completing the tour. It was mainly a celebration party for Chris, but Nick and Matt would never admit to that. However for me it was like my eternal hell. I absolutely hated parties especially ones full of all these LA “influencers” who were only here because they wanted to see who’s pants they could get into first. Same boring game over and over, so I stand in the corner at most parties with a drink in my hand observing everyone else, listening in on conversations and cringing at how embarrassing some of these people were. It brought me great joy, and I could ignore how badly I wanted to claw my way out this sweaty body infested house.

I went to take a sip from my orange solo cup, and noticed it was empty, so I made my way over to the kitchen. In there was Nick, Matt, Tril, Chris, Madi and a few other close friends of ours. Although I love the triplets, and they know how much I hate parties I always am on my best behavior for them!

“Yooo look who decided to join the party” Tril said bumping my shoulder. I just give a slight upturn of my mouth

“Haha so funny….” I replied back rolling my eyes

“Hey! Lighten up! Let loose, this is a celebratory party “ Tril answered back grabbing me by my shoulders

“You’re clearly very drunk, I’m having a great time watching all these people embarrass themselves trying to get into y’all’s pants” I replied back looking at all the drink options. My eyes light up once I see the strawberry Malibu

“Woahhh get into our pants?? Says who” Matt replies looking around curious

I pour a shot and gulp it down, and then another before I go to pour my third shot I look up and answer

“Nearly every single person in here” I replied down my third shot after pouring it

“You should slow down on the shots” when I bring my head down after downing my shot I lock eyes with Chris

“Ouu is the king of parties telling me to slow down on drinking??? Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” I said laughing along with everybody else

“No I’m just saying you tend to get a little out of hand when you’ve had a little too much Malibu” Chris responded shrugging. To this Nick giggles and has a light bulb moment

“Oh my fucking god like that one time you drank Malibu at that one party and puked on that guys dick” Nick says giggling….he was completely sober, so why in the fuck was he saying such a thing. My eyes pop out of my head

“First of all not true, and second of all you guys always purchase Malibu knowing it’s my favorite and then get upset when I wanna have fun” I said back with an attitude

“Maybe control your liquor intake and you wouldn’t be choking on dicks” Chris retorted back laughing hard with Matt while they leaned on each other for support like it was the funniest shit ever

“I can promise you I’ve never choked on a single dick, and I also promise you I’ve never sucked dick while drunk before…that’s a rookie mistake fuck face” I say back throwing ice cubes at him from my cup

“That’s not how I interpreted it when you were gagging on my dick, but I mean hey” He said back with the most smug smirk I have ever seen. My blood was boiling, my skin was on fire, I was seeing white hot rage.

Back in high school Chris and I got really close one year. It was actually the summer going into senior year, and to say I had a crush on him was an understatement. I really liked the kid, but I knew he’d never see me that way. But for some reason we had a really romantic summer, and at the end of it we decided to be each other's first everything. That being said I had never seen a dick nor touched or sucked one, and he was pretty large, so I did in fact gag a few times. Needless to say after that summer we never spoke about it again, and we actually acted like we never liked one another after that, so there was always this weird tension here and there

“You’re such a fucking dick” Was all I could get out, I was angry but I was hurt mostly. It was something we swore we’d keep to ourselves, and here he goes airing it out to his brothers and our friends, and making me feel embarrassed.

“Chris not fucking cool” Madi said giving him a disgusted look.

“Oh come on it was a harmless joke I swear” He said acting shocked that nobody liked what he said

“You fucking idiot you always take shit too far” Nick said smacking him in the back of his head. I looked over to Chris with no emotions

“No, honestly it’s fine he can’t eat pussy for shit, and when I did let him go down on me he was crying from all the emotions, talking about some “aww you’re wet for me” pfft you wish….hes a fucking joke in bed” I responded giving him a bitchy smile. Everyone’s jaw dropped and Chris just clenched his jaw and scoffed. He pushed himself off the edge of the sink and walked over to me. He grabbed me by my upper arm and yanked me hard towards the direction of his room downstairs. As he was walking me with him harshly like a scolded child all I could hear was laughing and and them going “OUUUU” like I was some school delinquent getting told to step out of class.

Chris firmly walks me down the steps into his room slamming the door shut behind us. All that could be heard now was PARTYNEXTDOOR blasting from upstairs. When he’s a little more into his room he fully throws me down to the floor, and I fall smacking against the wooden floors.

“Ouch you fucking prick, I’m not a fucking ragdoll” I said as I get myself up and try to shake off the embarrassment.

“Yeah? Well you ain’t shit to me after that little stunt you pulled up there” he said towering over me by a few inches.

“Oh me? I’m the bad guy?? Yeah let’s not play victim” I said back to him crossing my arms over my shoulder

“Oh no let’s not! But let's tell the truth shall we” Chris stated back flashing his white smile. I go to cut him off, but he immediately speaks loudly over me.

“Truth is you did choke on my dick because it’s too big and you can’t take it, truth is you were the one crying when I was going down on you, you were fucking trembling and shaking moaning like a little bitch…..fucking thighs shaking like a complete untouched virgin” He said laughing at me now with his arms crossed over his chest

“We can fake orgasms you know” I told him sizing him up

“When your cum was dripping down my chin? Yeah that wasn’t fake mama, and the way you just laid there limp like a fucking used slut” He responded laughing in my face. God why were his words making me hot and bothered? WHEN DID CHRIS BECOME SO FUCKING HOT?

“Fuck you” was all I could manage because I was genuinely getting turned on by the way he was treating me and the memories of him abusing my pussy.

“Yeah you wish” Chris said rolling his eyes

“I’m not 17 anymore I’ve got experience now, I bet you couldn’t make me cum” I told him…well more like challenging him.

“Please I’d have you used and abused by the end of this party babe” he said stepping closer. Fuck this man really got it….

“Is that a bet?” I asked, raising my brow with my arms crossed over my chest. He roughly grabbed my hands smacking them out the way and grabbed me harshly by neck pulling me in for a kiss. Our lips smashed together just tongue and teeth fighting for dominance, it was hot and it was messy.

He turned us and had us back peddling to his bed. Once my shoes hit the edge he pushed me back, as I laid back he pulled his shirt off along with his hat. I decided to take my shirt off as well

“Fuck Chris you’re so hot when you’re not speaking” I said to him as he came lower to continue kissing me

“Could say the same about you too” He said as nudged my head up and started to leave wet kisses all down my neck to my breast. He stopped and lifted back to look at me

“I can’t wait to have you moaning and weeping on my cock” He said with his droopy eyes lazily looking over me. I just grabbed him by his chain and pulled him forward to continue kissing him. He had me lift up so he could remove my bra. Once my bra was off he separated from my mouth to look down at my chest. His eyes shimmered. I will say I had a last minute puberty incident at 17 I was a size C, but now at 21 I’m a size DD.

“Since when did you get boobs” He asked, laughing while kneading them and moaning a little bit. I let out a sigh/whimper at the feeling of his large hands caressing my breasts.

“Don’t be a fucking weirdo” I said back to him rolling my eyes. He just chuckled and came down to take one of my hard nipples into his mouth while kneading the other one. God I was getting so wet just by this interaction alone, and I know he’d make fun of me for it once he got to removing my bottoms.

He continued to massage them as I let out little moans and gasps of breath. I could feel my underwear being completely soaked right now. My pussy was throbbing, and it was aching a painful ache. I so badly needed him to touch me. He was doing this so he can hold it over my head in the future about how wet I was for him. He hovers over my boobs and spits on one of my nipples. A shocked gasp came from my mouth followed by a moan. He does the exact to the opposite breast and uses his flat palms to massage the spit in. My eyebrows were knotted together and my mouth was hung open. He was doing this all so I could beg him to move on from my breast, but I was enjoying this, so that wasn’t happening.

“Next time I’m fucking your tits, and coming all over them, and then leaving you here like a dirty whore covered in my cum” He said to me biting his lip

“Fuck Chris don’t say shit like that” I responded trying to rub my thighs together for some friction. He looked at this and smirked.

“Now let’s get down to what I’m really here to do” after saying that he took my bottoms off leaving me in my underwear. Of course today I have on light orange underwear making my arousal very noticeable.

“Aww she made a mess for me” he said ghosting his thumb over my pussy, my body shudders from the touch

“Chris I don’t fucking care of course I’m wet you were stimulating my breast, now let’s go if you do get me to cum I’m trying to cum tonight not tomorrow” I responded clearly annoyed. He just laughs and nods his head slightly.

He slowly starts to remove my panties, and as he takes them off there’s a very visible string of my arousal connected from my pussy to my underwear. He just looks up at me and smirks, and I throw my head back and moan as the cool air in his room is causing some release to my untouched core.

Chris pulls my legs apart propping them up on the bed as he situates himself in between my legs. Once he’s comfortable he grabs both legs on either arm and spreads my thighs back. I throw my head back at how hot he looks right now.

“You’ve made such a mess, let’s make it more messy” he said and as he finished that sentence he gathered all the spit in his mouth and let it dribble down onto my wet pussy. I let out the most quiet “fuck” of my life as I watch this unravel infront of me.

As soon as he's done with that he immediately goes down and licks from my hole up to my clit. I was propped up on my elbows but my top half goes limp and I fall back moaning

“Holy shit Chris” was all I could say. He’s sucking my clit and licking it lightly grazing his teeth on my clit hit spit and my slick are mixing together creating the most ungodly sound ever. It is only then that he moans against my clit and my thighs shut around his head

“Fuck Chris oh my god….if you keep doing that I’m going to cum on your face” I said said gripping the sheets. He goes down to lick my hole and his pointy nose is banging against my clit in the most delicious way. Allowing me to moan out for him once again slamming my thighs shut around his head.

He detached from my pussy to look at me, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen….his fucked out eyes, his nose,lips and chin covered in my arousal and his spit and his cheeks are all red and rosy. He immediately goes back down to my pussy this time adding his middle finger while sucking my clit. As he’s sucking my clit he’s motioning his middle finger in a come here motion and then moans against my clit. I let out the loudest scream as I could, shaking and cumming all over his mouth and finger. Seeing flashes of white and my body coming off the bed. I had no warning. I was just hit with an intense orgasm. I was breathing heavy as i came down from my high 100% fucked out.

“What’d I say trembling and thighs shaking like a used slut” Chris said as he was removing his pants and I was just there basking in the feeling of the best orgasm I’ve ever had. I look up and see Chris stroking his hard dick while watching me pull myself together

“Chris that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had” I stated watching his hand move up and down against his rock hard dick. I was already getting aroused again. He comes closer and takes his right hand swiping it against my pussy collecting my cum and his spit as I shudder from the sensitivity.

He uses that to stroke his dick “Should I fuck you, or should I use your cum as my lube to get off and paint your skin like the dirty slut you are?” he asks, still stroking his cock. All I could do was moan and beg him to fuck me.

Once again he spits on my pussy and on his dick using it as extra lube. He’s looking down as he places the tip at my entrance. We both lock eyes as his dick enters me, both of our mouths dropping and our eyebrows kneading together. Both of us whispering fuck. He slowly starts to go in and out.

“Fuck Chris you gotta move you feel so good I wanna feel you pounding me” I told him he bites his lip and nods starting to pick up the pace

30 seconds later he’s rapidly thrusting into me like there’s no tomorrow rubbing my nipples and then going back to my clit. I’m a moaning bitch right now, and I’m about to cum on his cock I can feel it, so I started clenching his dick.

“Fuck Y/N keep doing that I’m going to fucking cum all over you” He said into my ear with his arms on either side of my head as his chain dangles in my face and his sweat starts to fall on me.

“Chris keep touching my clit I’m going to cum so hard again” my breathing was becoming more rapid and my moans were becoming silent as my mouth would just stay open and my eyes shut. He backed up a little bit so he could look down at me while rubbing my clit.

“Fuck open your eyes I wanna hold eye contact while we cum” he said, and I did what I was told I opened my eyes just as I was about to cum, with one more thrust I came so hard on his dick clenching down and moaning while looking into his eyes. As soon as I came down from my high he pulled out and kept the eye contact while pumping his cock, and soon enough he came all over my lower stomach with his mouth wide open and bitchy whimpering moans spilling out of his mouth.

He collapsed down next to me while we both sat there in silence not moving for 5 minutes. Then Chris got up and got a warm wet rag to wipe me down with. He came back with it and was staring at my lifeless body there still shuddering.

As he’s wiping my stomach down he states “exactly what I said a fucked out used slut” he looks at me chuckling

I turn my head to him “Chris you just let out the most whiniest moan as you came on me” I said as we both laughed.

“You know I didn’t mean for my joke to hurt your feelings I truly thought you were over the feelings for me. I’m not over my feelings for you, but I thought saying that would help me get over it” he said after wiping me down

“Chris I was never over you. I lost my virginity to you, that’s a soul tie and you’ll forever have a special place in my heart” I told him looking at him. He helped me sit up so we can sit face to face

“Good because I have never wanted someone so badly in my life as much as I want you” Chris responded back moving my hair behind my ear. I just smiled at that and looked into his eyes

“Let me take you on a date, and try again. None of that high school shit I want this for real” He said looking into my eyes for an answer

“I’d love that” I said going in to kiss him. As I pulled back we hear a knock at the door

“Are yall done fucking the parties over and we need help cleaning” Nick said from the other side. Chris and I both looked at each other wide eyed laughing because we totally forgot there was a whole house party going on upstairs.

“Uh yeah we’ll be right out” we both said.

The end 😀

Okay I warned yall this is just a little bit of the type of shit I write, and I used to write this at 14 LMFAOOOO. But anyways leave some NICE comments. All young people under 18, that are rude are gonna be blocked cause I can’t do this shit. My mouth is crazy I’m from New York😁🤞🏽

I’m writing a sweet Matt smut next will either be up later tonight or tomorrow 😘🧎🏽‍♀️

#Spotify

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adventuringblind · 9 months

Note

Hi this is my first time requesting anything but would you be able to do single mother!reader x the F1 grid. The love interest could be anyone you like xx

In Your Arms

2023 F1 Grid x Leclerc!reader, Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Genre: flangtsy (fluff and angst, get it? I'm a genius)

Request: yep :) Though I'm not sure if this is exactly what you wanted. Sorry if I didn't get it right 😥

Summary: Max Verstappen takes on the role of lover and father to the girl he’s seen go through hell

Warnings: mentions of r*pe and SA but no graphic depictions. Mentions of being drugged.

Notes: this feels heavy in the beginning. Written in second person

Masterlist

You didn’t know how it happened. It was supposed to be a safe place. Security is everywhere.

Though security probably didn’t have reason so suspect an engineer of doing something so awful. Defiling someone’s body without their consent.

You’d come to see Charles’ home race. Granted you live in Monaco and spend majority of your down time with drivers, their partners, and families. You’d grown up around them having gone with to see Charles race and then Arthur.

Your three older brothers had promised to keep you safe. Lorenzo felt that he had to fill your fathers shoes after his passing. Not that he saw you as helpless, but you’re always going to be his baby sister.

You wonder where they are now as you sit in Charles’ driver room. Your clothes crumpled around your body and hair tossed in every direction. You want nothing more then to peel away your own skin.

Something was in your water. She blamed it in chemicals or something, but the more you drank it the thirstier you became. Having downed the whole bottle in five minutes.

The dizziness set in after that. Body now lax and head foggy.

Charles had picked up in your now rather sick complexion and suggested you watch from his room in the motor home. An offer you gratefully took.

Right before the race, someone came to the door and opened it without knocking. A stranger in red who’s face you can’t make out.

Your phone had been buzzing nonstop with texts from your family about her location. Texts you didn’t answer. Limbs to heavy to reach for the phone.

One thing stuck in your mind is what Max is going to think of you now. You’d only been dating for a year. Would he look at you with pity in his eyes? Wonder why you didn’t fight back?

It was funny how you and Max came to be. Much if it having to do with Charles being sick of you two making heart eyes at each other growing up. He’d went as far as to throwing you in Max’s driver room and telling the two of you to confess.

Needless to say it worked.

The hours seem to drag on. Your phone still buzzing. You want to answer but you can barely move. The vertigo no letting you move further then an inch at a time.

Charles is the first to find you. Though you don’t know it’s him. The voice at the door sounds like it’s underwater and your brain can’t make out his face. For a minute, you panic. Charles’ hands are on you, trying to get you off the floor but your wailing at him to stop. Slurred words that he can’t understand fall from your mouth.

Charles can barely get close to you. So he switches tactics. Your family meets him at the door and takes one look at you. Immediately, your moth has a sense she knows what happened.

She’s so gentle. Careful not to touch you and she examines your face. She knows she’s going to have to get you to a doctor. That’s a given. However, she doesn’t know how to do so when you keep flinching at all your brothers who are wearing Ferrari red.

For now, she tries to get water down your throat.

The Leclerc’s find themselves waiting at the hospital. The best news being that you weren’t overdosed, but definitely close to it.

Charles is pacing furiously. Angry that the security around the paddock didn’t see anything strange. Arthur is trying to piece together how it could have happened and Lorenzo has been stringing together angry sentences in French over the phone.

It all comes to a halt when Max comes barreling through the door. He looks scared. Charles had called him to tell them where they were but had given him no details.

“What happened?”

Everything feels wrong. Your throat is sore. Your head hurts. Your muscles ache. Thoughts seem to be stuck somewhere.

It all comes rushing back as you remember what happened earlier that day. The room is dark, so you assume she slept for a while, but you can’t get her heart to slow down.

Max is stroking your hand gently. His eyes are sad and you can tell he's been stressed. "Nobody is telling me what happened. They said it should be you."

Some part of you is relieved, and the other is wracked with guilt.

"We don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to." He's still running his fingers along her arms.

"He was wearing red." Your nails start clawing at your skin.

It clicks and he's angry.

It's been a month and a half.

It's a slow process of getting out again.

Max refuses to leave you alone because you've been sinking further into herself. Then you're always around people. Out in the open. Stuck to someone you trust.

This morning is spent at home in bed. Max's arm tucked gently around around your waist, pulling you further into him.

It's the overwhelming feeling of nausea that has you diving out of bed and into the bathroom. Her stomach contents now not wanting to be in her body.

Max feels her panic and runs after you, trying his best to shake the sleep from his eyes. As soon as he figures out what's happening, he's holding her hair back and rubbing comforting circles on her back.

You clutche the pregnancy test in your hands. It makes her sick again. Five positives and a single negative. Three different brands.

Just when you feel you're getting better, now you have to tell everyone you're pregnant, and it's not Max's. Sobs overcame you before you can get up from where you sunk down to the floor.

Max finds you hours later, still on the floor looking and the blue lines.

"I'm so sorry."

"Nothing to apolize for, lovely. Just know I'll support you on whatever decision you make."

It's not an easy decision to keep the baby, but she can't see herself parting with them.

The sucky part is knowing that the biological father is still in the Ferrari garage somewhere. Charles, despite his best efforts, could not catch him. He must be some really nice guy that everyone likes. It's always the to nice ones that end up being evil on the inside.

Max has decided he'll take the role of father if you let him. He's been attentive. Making sure your every need is taken care of.

He's also still looking for the man who decided to take something that wasn't his. He's in the Ferrari paddock or hanging around the garage with Charles to see if anyone even looks at you funny.

Eight months in, and you're exhausted. Your mom has been staying with you while Max is traveling for races. He calls every chance he gets to check in on you.

Carlos has been sending you videos of why he is going to be a better uncle than Lando. Then Lando goes and brings you food and baby things to prove him wrong.

It's night, and you're tucked into bed, wishing Max were here cuddle with you. Then, the sensation of water leaking down your legs makes you call for your mother.

You stay calm while she drives to the hospital. You were expected to carry to full term. Neither of you expected the baby to come a month early.

You're calling Max repeatedly. The time difference puts him at prime sleep time.

Eventually he answers.

He's on the next flight home.

You waited as long as possible. Max had gotten there in the nick of time. He held your hand the entire time.

You were in labor for over a day. The pain getting unbearable at times.

When you finished, you were holding a healthy baby girl.

Isabella is your everything. Practically attached to your hip. She took more of your traits than you were expecting. Something that you're grateful for.

Your brothers spoil her to peices. Charles rarely says no to her, Lorenzo loves to show her how to boss the other two around, and Arthur has expanded her vocabulary is ways that are less then ideal.

Oscar was probably the most reliable to leave her with if Max or your brother aren't available. Having sisters comes in handy when he's combing through her hair. She falls asleep in his lap during almost every race weekend at some point.

Her favorite place is either on top of Landos shoulders or in Max's arms.

Max treats her like his own. He's said she's his daughter on multiple occasions. It was nice like this. Creating your own little family.

It takes two years after she's born for someone at Ferrari to ask you about her. Personal questions that were starting to make you uncomfortable.

Memories you'd locked away quickly find themselves flooding into your brain. Why is he so familiar?

You're outside the paddock, thankfully. People are within view.

"I want my daughter." He rasps. He is very much in your face now and You can feel his breath sticking to your face.

Your brain and chest short circuit. You send a silent prayer to whoever is listening that someone comes to save you. Thankful at yourself for leaving Isabella with Lando and Oscar.

Max had managed to catch a break and was on his way to find you. A small hop in his step at the thought of finding you and the little girl.

He freezes as he comes around the corner. His legs are carrying him faster than his mind can think. Max's hand finds his shoulder, effectively shoving the man away from you.

It takes everything in you not to fall into him as he slides in front of you protectively.

Your quick to take the opportunity to text someone to come help. Your definitely not strong enough to break them up if this gets physical and you don’t want to risk Max getting in trouble.

It's not long until Charles is barreling around the corner. Lando and Oscar close on his heels.

"You're trying to take away something that's rightfully mine." His voice is scratchy and angry, dripping with venom.

"Just like you took someone's body? I'm pretty sure taking a child is kidnapping." Max is practically growling.

Lorenzo comes running around the corner, Isabella running around the corner away from him and straight to you.

She's too far gone to stop. You lean down and scoop her up in your arms. Holding her head into her shoulder.

Max is still in front of you and her protectively. "You messed up, and now you're missing out." He spits.

Security is able to pull the Ferrari man away. Much to your relief because Charles was getting ready to swing.

You break in Max's arms once he's gone. Isabella is confused at the sadness but is still trying to cheer you up.

Max just holds you. Both of you.

"It's okay now, I'll always keep you safe."

705 notes · View notes

whynot-tryit · 10 months

Text

Angel of Small Death: Chapter 1

John Price x female! reader

Summary: Laswell convinces Price to hire a team medic. You spend your first day meeting each one of the men and you take an instant liking to the captain, and he does so too.

Word count: 5,528

Warnings: inaccurate medical stuff, mentions of blood, insomnia, body parts, body touching, lmk if there’s anything I should add.

----------------------------------------------------------

“John, in the past six months your team alone has made up almost forty percent of overall med bay visits. I’m not saying your team isn’t fit, I just think you should hire a team medic.”

This isn’t the first time the idea has been brought up to Price during his and Laswell’s debriefings in his office. His hands run over his face, racking through his mutton chops before laying them down on his desk with a grunt of annoyance. “I know you guys can take care of yourselves on base and out there on the field but come on John, you guys need someone. You need someone to help you.”

Price wasn’t fond of asking for help but it was starting to get on his nerves with how much Laswell was bringing this up. “I already said no, Laswell.” His annoyance makes his words come out gruffier than usual. Laswell rolls her eyes and rests her back against the chair posted on the other side of his desk. “How about I choose for you? If you hate them then you’ll never hear me talk about it again.”

The sigh that rolls through Price’s chest is the only sound that radiates through the small room for a couple seconds. He hasn’t had the time to finish the mountain of paperwork on his desk along with the daily training regime for the team, along with all the meetings he’s been dragging his feet to day in and day out. Maybe some help would be nice. Did that mean he was unfit in his role? His eyes come up from the papers on his desk to Laswell’s. Her eyes seem to read his mind and her eyes get softer trying to voice her thoughts.

He was good at his job, getting help wouldn’t be a bad thing, he deserved it. The bags under his eyes and stiff shoulders were a tell tale sign of how much he worked, an extra set of hands wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“Fine. You pick ‘em.”

..............................

You were an experienced medic, having been stationed in multiple locations, saved a multitude of civilians and soldiers. You were proud of your work. Moving around so much, feeling like you were being tugged in one direction to the other was getting quite exhausting. Once the rumor of a job opening as a team medic passed through your small base you hesitated for a small moment, you had no idea what team, where, but you knew it would be good to get some fresh air and maybe to have a new place to find stable ground for a foreseeable amount of time. It took months of rigorous interviews and paperwork but they chose you. Laswell, chose you. You had asked her why the captain of the team didn’t pick you, asking why they weren’t present for any of the interviews if you were going to be working with them. She had only hinted that they seemed to be a close friend of hers who needed the extra hand and didn’t have the time to pick someone themselves, so she was doing them a solid.

You had always liked the idea of helping someone, that's why the idea of being a medic, a doctor, was one you had had since you were a child. One that you worked very hard to make a reality, so the thought that whoever it was that you were going to work for really needed you made you even sounder in the idea of taking the new opportunity.

Duffel bags are still packed and laying on the floor of your new living quarters, hands on your hips and eyes trailing around the four walls, all the way to the small bed and desk. This would have to do. Since the process of getting here had taken so long you wanted to jump right into introductions. You hadn’t heard a single thing about the team, 141. Cute name, you thought.

Unpacking and making the room somewhat livable for your needs was going to have to wait, changing into your scrubs and grabbing the four manilla folders you made your way to the medical wing on base. Laswell had helped you set up one on one meetings with the team so you could go over their medical files. Military medics, especially ones who didn’t work with the team directly and personally were always known to look over things and forget to file symptoms and problems properly so you wanted to make sure you went over some things. You wanted to do your job properly.

First up was Kyle Garrick.

As you walked towards the curtain which separated your little appointment room for your little meet and greets you noticed the feet underneath the small sliver of space made by the floor and the bottom of the curtain. He’s early, 15 minutes early to be exact. That earns a check in your book.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves and reach out a hand to pull the curtain to the side and take a quick step inside before pulling it back to its place behind you. “You must be Kyle.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You greet the soldier with a kind smile, moving to place the folders in your arm on the small side table in the corner before pulling out the rolling stool from underneath and taking a seat, scooting yourself a little closer to the cot located in the middle of the room, closer to Kyle who is seated right on top.

“You don’t have to call me ma’am, makes me feel older than what I really am.” You say with a small chuckle. He doesn’t seem to be much older than you, a little younger than the other members in 141, you presume. Your eyes make their way from his eyes down to his shoulders, then to his arms, hands interlocked in his lap, all the way down to his legs and feet. “You can call me Gaz then, that's what everyone calls me around here anyway.” You file the nickname into the back of your mind.

You splutter out a greeting, a more friend like one at least, your name and medic title. “I already went through your medical history and you seem to be pretty healthy or at least your file is a lot lighter than some I’ve seen.” You mentally flinch when you realize that it might come off as you think he’s inexperienced in his field, new to the military, although his age hints at him being quite the opposite. But Gaz smiles, “Means I’m good at my job. Don’t get hurt too often, at least I try not to.” Oh thank God, you think, he didn’t take it that way.

“Well then, I guess me and you are gonna get along just fine then.” You chuckle. “Is there anything you wanna tell me though? Anything like trouble sleeping? Appetite problems? Joint Pain? It doesn't seem like you’ve complained about anything, ever. At least according to your records.”

A deep hum can be heard coming from his chest as he seems to run through his own mind, trying to come up with anything he would deem reasonable enough to complain about, at least to a doctor. As he’s doing so you take note of his clothes, the medical wing is set up like most hospitals, AC blasting, it’s cold, sure, but not enough to be bundled up for. Your eyes focus on his shoes, more specifically his socks, they’re not the military issued kind. They seem to be wool socks, which is odd, not something you see that often. Maybe his feet get cold, at least to a level that he takes an extra precaution to keep them warm.

While you’re finishing reeling in your thoughts after noticing your observation, Gaz finally finishes rummaging through his mind for anything to tell. “I don’t have anything I think is worth complaining to you, Doc. I mean if complaining about the food on base to you can actually change anything then that's about it.” A deep chuckle makes its way out of his throat. You smile.

“Can I see your fingers?”

The odd question makes Gaz raise a brow but he pulls his hands from his lap and lays them out to the space between you and him, palms up. You take a soft hold of his fingers, wrapping yours around them almost like you would grip onto a handle of something. They’re oddly cold. You take note of it in your mind and move his hand to be palm down so you can take a look at his fingernails, softly running your thumbs over them.

Gaz stays silent, watching you as you bring them level to your eyes as you take note of the very subtle vertical lines that run through his nails. You let a slight hum almost like an aha moment and Gaz is very confused. “What is it?” The question comes out with a slightly worried tone.

“Do you get cold easily, Gaz?”

“I don’t think I get any colder than the average guy, why?”

You finally drop the hold you had on his hands and scoot to the desk, opening a drawer to quickly take a pair of gloves out and slip them on before scooting back to your previous position near him.

“You wear wool socks, which aren't really military issued so I’m guessing your feet get cold easily and your fingers too. Your fingernails also show symptoms of an iron deficiency. Is it alright if I check your eyes and gums?” You always try to explain the best way you can, talking slower than you normally would- trying to come off as understanding as possible. He gives you a nod of approval before shifting closer to the edge of the bed so you can do your little investigation.

You take a hold of his face, placing your thumbs underneath his eyes before pulling down his water line to get a good look underneath. The spot is oddly void of red, a classic sign of anemia. You move on to do the same with his mouth, pulling on his bottom lip to look at his gums which are a pale pink- not the exact color that they should be..

Retracting your hands and pulling the gloves off you scoot to the manilla folder, pulling out a pen from your scrub pocket to jot some things down. “I think you’re anemic, an iron deficiency, nothing too serious since it doesn’t seem to affect your work but I’m gonna order a blood test to confirm and to see if it’s just a dietary issue or if you need a supplement to get you to normal.”

Gaz is kind of taken aback. He felt fine, or at least he thought he did. Sure, his feet and hands got cold but he had trekked through waist high levels of snow and water. The soldier thinks of how he gets winded when moving from one sparring match to the next. Was that what that was? “You got that because of my socks?”

Shit, you’re good.

---------------------

Next was Johnny MacTavish, or “soap” at least that's what the red mess -doctor handwriting, right next to his real name on his file read. You had stayed in the curtain enclosed room after Gaz had left, writing out a referral for the blood test you had mentioned when you heard the slight squeaking of boots on the shiny floors headed right your way before they stopped right on the other side of the curtain. You looked up right as they were pulled aside and a friendly face greeted you, and a mohawk- which surprised you.

“You must be the new Doc, names Soap.” He greets you and steps inside, extending a hand to shake yours. You take it, giving him a light shake before introducing yourself and directing him to sit on the cot. Soap’s introduction didn’t seem rushed yet happened all before you could even stand up from your seat. It somehow exuded this confident aura off him, which somehow in your mind explains the haircut for you.

“I see here that you're a demolition expert?” To be frank, when you had read that in his file while going over all the men’s information, and seen all his med bay visits you knew he would be the one that would take up most of your time. You had seen first hand the aftermath of the explosions his people have dealt with. On enemies and on your very own. The thought and images are quickly pushed to the back of your mind.

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs, it's deeper and louder than Gaz’s. “You are the second person to call me ma’am today, please just call me anything else.”

“My bad, Sorry, Doc.” He raises his hands in a mock surrender. “I’m guessing you also know that your file says that you frequently find yourself in the medical wing.” Soap winces, a hand coming to rub the back of the neck. “Yeah, sorry about that. Kind of comes with the job. But, hey! We’ve got you now, so no worries.”

Yep, you had your work cut out for you on this one. “I guess you do, can’t wait to see what you get yourself into that I have to bandage you up for.”

Soap enjoys your replies, the banter settles nice under his skin. His smile doesn’t seem to fade, maybe slightly but never fully gone. “I’m guessing that since you’ve been at this a couple years you know about the annual hearing tests you should be taking.”

His smile drops instantly. “What.”

“You did know that all personnel that deal with explosives regularly are supposed to be given a hearing test once a year while for others it’s every 3, right?”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest, past your rib cage right near your spine as you watch him gape at you- like he’s grappling to find the words that he clearly doesn’t have. “I’m pulling your leg, your file doesn’t have anything on them either so I'm guessing you never had them.” Soap lets out a sigh before shrugging, flashing you a sheepish smile.

You chuckle, “Alright, I’m gonna have you do one for me and let's just hope to God you’re not deaf yet.” That earns a chuckle from him, again. He was a lot more talkative than Gaz yet around the same level of openness. Thank god it seems like you got a good team, no weirdos so far.

“Can I ask you one thing, lass?” Your eyes dart up from your folder where you were jotting down your notes. “Yeah, of course.”

“How fast does hair that's been burned off, by let's say- an explosion- take to grow back?”

Oh boy.

………………………………..

It had taken a while to finish up with Soap, he had too many questions for his own good. But the interaction puts a smile on your face at the thought. Your next patient was already waiting outside, Soap greets him right on the other side of the curtain before he comes in.

“You must be Ghost.”

You had heard of him before, small whispers of a skull masked man who never showed his face. To be honest with yourself, it wasn’t quite unfamiliar to have a soldier that preferred to cover their face most times, so the thought of it that wasn’t unsettling to you in the least. Even as his huge frame slips past the curtain before moving to the other side of the room, or at least to the other side of the bed. You suppress a frown, he’s purposely distancing himself from you- normal in his case, you try to tell yourself. There's a long moment of silence where you’re at least expecting him to somewhat introduce himself but it doesn’t come. Alright then.

You introduce yourself instead, trying to get rid of the silence. “Did you know that most of your files are almost completely redacted?” His eyes finally meet yours after making their way across the room. “Yeah, I know.”

There's silence again, this isn’t gonna be easy.

Ever since you were a kid you had always been able to read people, their eyes, their hands, the way they walked. You look at his eyes and the skin around them, at least the small amount you could see through the baklava he wore. They move down to his neck and shoulders, they’re stiff- almost painfully so. Then onto his crossed arms.

“So, how often do you get nightmares?”

Even Though you can’t see his face you know he’s surprised. “Excuse me?”

You give him a soft smile, “Your eyelids are kind of droopy, you have serious under eye bags, both indicative of an inadequate sleep schedule and your right shoulder is higher than your right even though you're standing straight which tells me you sleep on your side very often. It's actually an effect from what we call a sleeping soldier position. You lay on your side, one arm under your head and the other most likely holding onto some kind of weapon.”

He doesn’t answer straight away, it almost seems like he’s sizing you up. Trying to guess if you’re serious, if you’re being condescending in some way but Ghost can’t seem to find anything behind your eyes except kindness. It almost scares him more than what he was expecting. You know you're right, you’ve worked with dozens of cases of PTSD, diagnosing it and treating it. “What have you tried in order to help?”

You almost think he’s not going to answer you, that he’s just going to storm out of the room and somehow you’d lose your job before you even got the chance to do anything about it.

“I don't know how to fix it.” It’s a quiet, muttered reply. You almost miss it.

Ghost feels like he’s out of his comfort zone, sure soldiers had nightmares and maybe he had had them when on a mission, sleeping just a few feet away from his teammates but you were new and somehow could see through him. “Does your captain know?” You hoped the answer was yes because then it meant you wouldn’t have to tell his superiors about his personal problems and you could just help him without anyone having to know and judge him which is what you guess is making him uneasy. “Price knows.” You nod- they seem to be the closest in age on the team so you guess they’ve known each other for at least a decent amount of time, knowing things about each other that only a close friend would. “Then I can help, I don’t have to tell the captain unless he asks and neither do you.”

“No drugs.” Ghost had lost hope on ever truly resolving his problems when he lied awake at night thinking about it. Drugs would be written down, stored and used against him. He’ll be seen as an unstable soldier- a sick man.

“I can do that.” You offer him a small smile, at least you’re getting somewhere- doing your job.

Soap might not be the one to worry about, you thought.

—----------------------

You let out a quiet sign to yourself, the back to back meetings have had you cramped inside the room for hours. The team seems to be a good one, funny and kind, thank god. The last meeting was with the captain. You were nervous even though he had hand picked the three men you had met earlier so he couldn’t be too far off in comparison. But the thought that you were going to be working with him and he hadn't been involved in choosing you was gnawing at you. If he hated you or thought he didn’t need you he could have your bags packed in an hour tops. You try to take a deep breath, he couldn’t be that mean- none of the boys seemed to warn you about him so that means he had to be nice or else they would complain about him somehow.

The thoughts in your mind seem to be clouding your senses, you barely hear the steps coming towards the curtain and how they come to a halt right before the fabric is slowly pushed to the side.

Still lost in your thoughts and sitting in the stool, it seems like you’ve been glued to the whole day at the desk that's been housing all the manilla folders, referrals, and notes you’ve been working with for hours on end- you don’t hear the steps get closer and the figure who they belong to standing just slightly past the threshold. Price knows he should probably make himself known, maybe clear his throat or rustle the curtains so you know he’s here.

He plans to, or at least that's what he tells himself, he can’t help taking your form in, your back to him- legs crossed, seated, elbow resting on the desk, chin in your hand. He gulps, he hasn’t seen your face but somehow he knows that you’re beautiful. He would bet money on it without you even having to turn around. Surprisingly, it's the very gulp that makes him let out a small cough that finally has you turning your head to face him. A part of him wants to back out of the room and call Laswell, curse her out for this idea of hers but that thought seems to slip out of his mind as your eyes meet his.

You’re quick to stand up, wiping your hands off on your thighs before reaching one out for a greeting. “Shit, so sorry. I didn’t even hear you come in. You must be the captain.” Price takes your hand but his eyes don’t leave your face- that smile that he can already feel is going to get him in a load of trouble and gives you his own. “It’s alright, love.” You try to hide the sharp inhale you seemed to have involuntarily made when the name hits your ears.

His hands are calloused, not in a way that scratches you but feels sturdy, warm, somewhat comforting. The grasp he has of your hand lasts a little longer than what anyone would deem normal and you stutter out a soft command for him to take a seat on the cot.

Price does as you say and lets go of your hand before taking a seat, interlocking his hands in his lap. You take the time to turn and rearrange your papers, trying to get your breathing under control, of course no one mentioned he's handsome. Fuck.

“I hope my men haven’t given you a hard time so far.” You finally turn around after hearing his voice, it matches his face- handsome, charming. “ No, they're nicer than I expected.” That makes Price raise a brow, questioning what you mean by that and you catch on. “Gaz doesn’t like talking so much, Ghost is an enigma of his own, and well soap is one hell of a character.” You chuckle while taking a seat on the stool once again and scooting over til you’re a few feet away from him.

To be completely honest, Price had almost forgotten about the deal he made with Laswell. She had come by to drop your file at his desk- for him to look over- but in reality, he had forgotten. He feels what he thinks is guilt eating at him in his chest. He had been adamant for so long on not needing a team medic, that they were a waste of time and money- yet here you were, nice, beautiful and he didn’t hate you one bit.

“Well, Gaz is called Gaz for that very reason and well Simon is Simon, and soap- well he’s most likely the reason you’re here.” Soap had been the sole reason for 141’s increased med bay visits which is what had tipped off Laswell to initiate the month long debate of hiring someone.

“I’m glad you did, it doesn’t seem like you guys have been keeping up with protocol.”

“What do you mean, love?” Concern is laced into his words, the thought of his men not getting adequate help makes the knot in his chest grow tighter.

“I’m having Gaz checked for anemia since he’s got some of the tell tale signs. Soap hasn’t had a hearing test in over five years and Ghost has a severe case of insomnia.” You know that not a lot of teams have the opportunity to have a team medic, often resorting to rotating med bay doctors who aren't very keen on prevention and treating for mundane things. The look of guilt spread across the captain's face, his brows furrowing and lips taut. “It’s not your fault, I’m here now so I’ll be taking care of you guys and I’ll be trying my best, captain.”

Your words seem to settle the man down but you can tell he still seems anxious over his men. You place your hands on your knees, “Let’s worry about you right now.” You offer him a kind smile before standing up from your seat and taking a few steps forward before coming to a complete stop when you're standing right in between his spread knees. Your hands are held up a few inches from his face, silently asking for permission. Price pushes the feeling of apprehension to the back of his mind before tilting his chin slightly up, granting you to do so.

“Any past surgeries I should know about Captain?” The tips of your fingers press into the skin right below his ears, feeling the tension underneath while you slowly make your way down his neck, dotting your fingers into his hair clad skin.

“No.” You don’t know if it's in your head but his reply almost comes out as a whisper, your fingers run back up his neck applying pressure directly under his jaw on both sides of his esophagus. You hesitate for a moment when you don’t feel the usual clump of cells that should be there. You spare a glance at his eyes, taking a second too long to remember the shade of blue you find yourself trying to jot down in your mind. “You sure about that?” Your voice sounds softer, closer to the whisper he seemed to have let out before.

You slowly remove your hands from Price’s head and reach for the pen in your scrub pocket and turn to write something in your manilla folder that's laid out on the desk. “I think I would remember going under the knife, love.”

A small smile graces your lips while you finish writing your notes, scooting back to him. “Well Captain, I’m sorry to break the news to you but you don’t have tonsils.” You try to keep a straight face looking at the man sitting on the medical wings cot, barely a foot away. Your knees brushing up against his. “What does that mean?” You hear what sounds like a hesitation of concern laced in his voice and it almost makes you break the stoic look you’re trying to maintain.

“Either someone drugged you and ripped them out of your throat in your sleep or you had them removed when you were a kid and you didn’t remember and no one ever bothered to check or write it down. I'm gonna go with the ladder so you can sleep better at night.” You let out a little chuckle at your imaginative story to pull his leg. Before Price seems to catch onto your joke you ask a follow up question. “Do you smoke?”

“Does that matter?” He looked like the type to smoke, maybe not exactly a cigarette but maybe a cigar, your eyes flash down to his hands and look at his fingers which are laid out on his knees. Yep, he looks like the type to smoke cigars. Your eyes come back up to meet his.

“Cigars?”

Price doesn’t have to answer your question, the look on his face alone answers for you. Before the words reach your ears you’re already back to writing some notes in the folder. Sparing a glance back at the man you notice how out of place he looks. His dark clothes stand out against the pristine whiteness of the blanket laid out on the medical bed, and the slightly off white colors of the walls, the freshly mopped shiny floors. You have the sudden urge to comfort him even though he’s not here for any actual type of medical treatment.

You can see the questions brewing underneath his lips and behind his eyes. Turning your body back to face him, inching your stool a little closer til your knees are almost back to pressing against his.

“If you got your tonsils removed as a child you have a slightly increased risk of upper respiratory infection and you smoking- even if it’s an occasional cigar increases that risk even more.” You try to show some sense of empathy through your eyes while they meet his. A sense of understanding seems to cross his face from your words and it causes a warm smile to find its way on your face.

“It's not that big of a deal but since it’s now in my job description to make sure you and your men are as healthy as can be I just want to make a note of it in case of anything.”

“Alright, love.”

The gruffness in his voice makes you fight back a shiver. “Do you not like doctors, Captain?” His eyes wander around the room, taking note of the fluorescent lights and sketchy wallpaper with a not too fond look on his face. “Not exactly, just not fond of the medical wing itself.” You nod, “yeah I can agree with you on that, not exactly friendly.” John smiles, it's small but something and you feel a tightness in your chest just from the sight of it. “Well since I’m your doctor now we can always just meet in your office instead of here, as long as I can just bring my supplies when needed.”

Price doesn’t understand why you’re trying to be so understanding, so comforting. It’s strange, out of the ordinary for the man, especially in his line of work. His eyes rack your face, down to your hands where you’re fiddling with your fingers. “I’m here to help you Captain, that's it.” You can tell he’s thinking, trying to take you in- read you.

Price decides he likes it, likes you.

“You gonna cook me dinner too, love?” He chuckles. You let a small laugh slip past your lips. “Ask Laswell to see if you can upgrade to the doctor deluxe package and maybe I will.” You’re enjoying this, and judging by Price's reaction he seems to be enjoying himself too.

“Deluxe package?”

“Yeah, cooked meals, back massages, the whole nine, Captain.”

“Sounds like a dream if you tell me, love.”

You both break out into a chorus of light laughter and quiet chuckles. The room doesn’t seem so small and suffocating like you had thought a mere thirty minutes ago and that pit in your stomach has seemed to all but dissipate. You finish going over some more of his medical records, confirming some information and filling in some gaps before you realize that it's been over an hour and the day is coming to a close. It doesn’t even hit you until Price brings it to your attention by looking down at his watch.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve probably kept you here for longer than you planned.” You say with an apologetic smile, nervousness etched into your words. “It’s alright, love.”

The boys were most likely waiting for him in his office for the past twenty minutes but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. Your eyes seemed to have glued him to the cot and your voice lulling him into a daze. Maybe having you around wasn’t so bad after all.

He stands- you follow him. “Well, it was nice meeting you, captain.” You hadn’t had time to take him in when he first came into the room. He’s tall, wide shoulders, tapered waist, and a nice strong set of thighs you have to force your eyes off of.

“John.” You raise a brow, lost in thought from seeing him in his full form. “You can call me John.” His smile is warm and it's almost like the warmth of it radiates onto you and you feel a rush of heat crawl up your neck.

“Okay, John.”

“It was nice meeting you, love.” Price gives you one last kind smile, the crows feet along the edges of his eyes come out at the gesture as he walks towards the curtain before pushing it aside and stepping out. The curtains don't go back to their previous place. You watch him as he walks away until he’s out of eyesight and you finally feel like you can catch your breath. Fuck, your captain is hot.

---------------------

Taglist: @sharkiestory

#john price #john price x reader #fluff #cod modern warfare #cod men #x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #slow burn

705 notes · View notes

the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 24 days

Text

The creator had a:

sea streaked child

WC:800

Cw: reader is said to breastfeed but isn't written doing so

Checking the blinds to make sure they were clean, remaking the ruffles so they are even.

Furina had spent her entire morning jittery walking everywhere in the palais mermonia.

Now across the room she is digging in between the blue roses hiding any less than stellar bloom under one of its prettier sisters.

Changing the tea set on the table in the middle of the room, cerulean blue, cobalt blue and sky blue swapping places faster than Neuvillette can pay any mind to.

She sighs, looking defeated at the sets and almost begging them to tell her which one is supposed to be best yet for one second the teapots looked like mocking faces. Throwing herself on a loveseat the room starts to feel smaller and she isn't even totally sure what tea to serve.

“Breath” neuvillette says from the desk, ever since he took over the leading role in Fontaine he spent more time between pages of legal documents, if that is even possible “they are arriving for a simple chat to check on the general management of the region”

“How do you even expect me to be calm when they themselves asked for my attendance for this meeting!” she sits up wobbly, the soft swirling getting worse “I can't even remember what cake you told me they liked… this is going to be a mess”

“Their grace has quite the sweet tooth, as long as what you planned doesn't have coffee it's going to be alright”

“Why no coffee?”

“miss furina… they gave birth a few days ago, it’s disadvised to breastfeed and have caffeinated drinks” seeing her nod and her little ahoge bobbing along he feels the need to confirm “that not only includes coffee and variations but also most teas” and with that she jumps to her feet, quickly excusing herself to make some changes.

“That child…” he sighs as he reviews the documents he wanted to show you and a rough overview, his head resting against his hand and a finger between his teeth. Feeling the door whining softly he laughs from the bottom of his throat “back soon early?”

And as his heart skipped a beat as you spoke “Oh, my, I know I am 30 minutes early but I thought you would like to meet me particularly” you walk deeper inside the room, past the meticulously fixed flowers that you wouldn't have noticed the mistakes on and past the three teapots on the table, each a slightly different shade of blue. Now standing besides neuvillette and facing the documents he just noticed the bundle of white cloth you held onto.

“Did the crops get better with the method I recommended? It left me worried when I left”

“The production got better, if you want to check the report is here” he offers the three papers stuck together by a metal clip when he notices that doing it with a single hand might be hard “if I might help you” he positions his arms to grab the baby and you let her between his arms

“Let's hope she stays asleep, she is such a colicky baby” you whisper but as soon as you finish the sentence she opens her eyes and starts wailing “my goodness…” you sigh deeply.

“Let me take care of it, just focus on that” he stands up and tries to mimic what he saw parents do with their small children whenever something upsetting might come up during the trials and small children would cry.

He grabs her neck and head with one hand and her legs with another, cradling her like you. As he was swaying softly the blanket covering her hair slid down to show pointy ears and softly cartilage mixing on her thin white hair.

“Is she…” but is soon shushed by you, pointing at the door and then to your ears, the message very clear ‘someone might be listening’ but he keeps his eyes glued to you only to catch you mouthing a soundless yes. His hands cradle her head onto his neck, soft blue cartilage sneaking past his fingers.

Now soothed, you two find comfort on the soft sound of passing the pages and Cordelia's breathing, the baby's name he would later find out.

“NEUVI I managed to get a cheesecake and fontas did i save this?!” Furina pushes past the door, holding a full size strawberry cheesecake and hugging three fontas against her chest but seeing you head on thinking you weren't on Fontaine yet “HIYY”

The screech caused Cornelia to get startled and start wailing “Miss Furina.” neuvillette says sternly, almost like a father telling off his daughter. But the only thing it caused was for her to see him hugging a baby suspiciously similar to him which didn't take her long to join the dots.

“OOAH!”

“Furina please stop scaring my daughter!”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #neuvillete #genshin neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #meme made in WhatsApp my beloved

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physalian · 3 months

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Writing Exposition (Or Turning a Textbook into a Story)

Exposition concerns every facet of your work from character descriptions, backstories, and relationships, to world history, geography, religions/faiths/superstitions, politics, and current events. Whenever the author takes an aside to say “Joe, Bob’s second cousin, said ‘hello’,” the exposition is establishing that Joe is Bob’s cousin.

So shaming a story for its poor handling of exposition is like shaming a movie for bad visual effects. Yes, some of it is probably bad, but I guarantee that you did not notice every single VFX shot in the movie, and you weren’t supposed to.

Most examples of bad exposition occur when the following happens:

Informed Character A exposits to Informed Character B and tacks on “as you know” with full sincerity

Random Important Detail gets dropped in conversation that does not fit the tone or direction of conversation

Character suddenly monologues about The Thing unprompted

Convenient Breaking News Alerts

Character, out-of-character, begins monologuing about The Thing even when prompted

The pacing screeches to a halt so the Exposition Train can thunder past

Exposition exists to give information, and in order for a reader to understand a story, not all of it can or should be agonized over making perfect. Settings have to be established. Character names and relationships have to be understood. “Telling” over “showing” is, in my opinion, perfectly fine when the “showing” would take more lines, effort, and priority over a single inconsequential sentence. Heck, sometimes the “telling” is better than the “showing”. The trick to understanding when, how, and to what degree to give exposition is making it motivated.

What is motivated exposition?

See this post about character descriptions and the plight of the cliche “mirror” trope for unmotivated exposition.

Motivating your exposition means giving it a reason to exist where it does, prompted by the story you’re telling. Citing the “mirror” trope: I can have my character wake up and describe themselves to you, but in doing so, that rarely tells the audience anything more than just what to picture as they read. Or, I can have my character description spread out as those details become relevant. They’re describing their hair color and texture as it begins to irritate or distract them, telling us both what it looks like, and what our character thinks of it, and a little bit about their personality in how they treat it.

I can open the first chapter with a long-winded editorial about the long lost king destined to unite the shattered kingdoms, or I can wait until the tale becomes important to my characters to tell.

I can spin tapestries about politics before you’ve even met your hero, or I can wait until those politics begin to cause the hero problems and then invite the hero to talk about why those politics cause problems.

See this post about pacing and ensuring your scenes always do at least two things at once. Motivated exposition takes bland information’s singular purpose (to inform) and gives it flavor in coloring the personalities of the characters who give and receive it.

When to give exposition

Caveat: Not all front-loaded exposition is poorly-handled. Everyone loves the Star Wars title crawls because they’re a part of the episodic movie experience. Whether it’s a cheap way to deliver information is irrelevant.

Most prologues exist to front-load exposition and, because I love using Lord of the Rings as my shining example in every post, the trilogy opens with a lengthy speedrun of the main villain, some of the important pieces on the chessboard, the importance of the ring, the smeared reputation Aragorn must live up to and repair, and an idea of the stakes should the heroes lose. Not only is it a prologue, it’s a narrated prologue. There’s an impressive amount of information given in not a lot of time.

Last Airbender begins every single episode with a reminder about the 100 year war and the aggression of the Fire Nation and the purpose of the avatar.

With that said, prologues and title crawls are their own tangle of weeds.

As I said above, exposition should be given when the story gives it reason to exist. Don’t talk about the politics until you have a scene where discussing politics is relevant.

If you need to establish your cool, unique magic system, wait until you have a character using that magic and give it in little chewable bites. That character likely isn’t using every trick in the book right then and there. If they wrote Last Airbender as a novel and started explaining the other three bending styles the second Katara levitated some water, it would read sloppy and slog.

Or, leave the exposition as a mystery to be told later. Make your audience crave the hero’s backstory, piecing together little hints throughout the narrative until just the right moment comes along where your hero would realistically start spilling the beans about themselves. Have other characters frustrated at the lack of information. Have other characters missassume and be wrong about the information they think they know.

Have your characters crave knowledge about their world as much as your audience does.

How to give exposition

Exposition can be given three ways: Via the narrator, via dialogue, or via images or texts observed by the narrator (think news broadcasts or the front page of the paper, books, letters, videos, diary pages).

No matter which avenue you give exposition through, the less random it is, the less “hand of the author” the audience sees. Characters given a lucky break by a convenient breaking news alert is a mini deus ex machina —- the heroes do not earn their victory, it’s just given to them. They are not active in the plot making decisions, they are being railroaded by information as it falls into place before them.

Narrated exposition

The narrator’s internal monologue will interrupt the story to explain whatever needs explaining in that moment. The difference between it reading like a textbook and reading like a story is whether or not this information is important to the narrator.

Meaning, what does my hero feel about this new information? Katniss Everdeen in Hunger Games exposits the entire book because she’s alone for a fair chunk of it with no one to talk to, and she’s no stranger to the politics and history of her world. And yet, she has such strong feelings about everything she says that it doesn’t feel like she’s just giving information for the sake of informing. Everything she says and how she says it reflects on her personality and how she views her world.

Dialogue exposition

When Katniss is clueless about the tribute parade process and all the nuances of Capital life, how she asks about this information and how Effie, Cinna, and Haymich tell her also speaks to their personalities and biases about what they’re saying. In essence: Their exposition is in-character, and, thus, services their characters.

This is the complete opposite of when two informed characters exposit to each other information both already know for the sake of the audience because the author has no other way to give said information. A prime example is the hero happening to overhear two minions discussing The Plan dropping lines like “as you know” (which makes it worse every time).

The only time “as you know” works is when it’s in character. As in, the villain expositing to their minion they think is stupid and the minion reacting to that assumption appropriately. Or, the heroes are gathered to discuss The Plan and the leader of the meeting goes “as you know” because that happens in the real world. Bonus points if some characters are irritated by the redundant recap.

Exposition via dialogue also opens the door for lies, half-truths, and characters simply being wrong or blinded by their biases. Or, characters simply being ignorant of the world they live in. In Lord of the Rings, Gandalf is like 3,000 years old and has been all over Middle Earth. It doesn’t break the plot to have Gandalf exposit because he would realistically have witnessed or have deep knowledge about historical events and politics. Aragorn, too, is 87, and has ranged all over the place. He’s the future king and thus had better know his history and politics. Aragorn expositing makes sense.

Say what you will about Last Jedi but it has a prime example of nuanced exposition: Kylo Ren and Luke Skywalker have incredibly different perspectives on if/how Luke attempted murder on his nephew. There’s 3 sides to every story and the audience is never shown the truth. Had this been given in the title crawl, it would have lost much of its potency.

Dialogue also nurtures the relationships between the characters talking. Telling stories brings people together. If a character is sharing their backstory, why are they telling the narrator, and what does this mean to them as they tell it? If a soldier is sharing his grizzled leader’s backstory around a campfire, how does his relationship with his leader impact how he tells that story, what language he uses, how he sounds, the expressions on his face?

Third party exposition

Information given from an object can be incredibly hit or miss, depending on how hard the heroes worked to obtain it, and whether or not the object in question is meaningful to the heroes.

In the Assassin's Creed games, you abandon the gameplay in whatever historical era you're playing in to watch cutscene after cutscene of exposition (specifically referencing the Ezio Trilogy) by characters no one cares about, giving information that no one cares about, when we'd all rather just keep playing the game.

You can literally have a character read from a textbook, logbook, or daily minutes. What matters is how that info reads, and how the character responds to it. Is the information prejudiced or saturated with bigoted language? Is the mere existence of it where it is horrifying?

In the Mines of Moria (Lord of the Rings) Gimli learns that all his kin have been murdered by goblins once he sees their corpses all impaled with goblin arrows. Later, he finds his dead cousin’s crypt containing a dead dwarf cradling a book that tells of the downfall of Moria. The log entry isn’t finished, and the penmanship rapidly degrades as the dwarf writing it likely dies from his wounds, ending with the ominous, “We cannot get out, we cannot get out, they are coming.”

Had Gandalf warned Gimli ahead of time that all the dwarves were dead, or had they never found the crypt or figured out the owners of the arrows and simply were told “oh yeah we’re about to be attacked by goblins, I suspect they’re the reason Moria is a ghost town” that would have lost all emotional impact, and character development for Gimli.

This doesn’t have to be just objects, get creative! Have the hero watch a parody retelling of the Big Event. Have someone tell it like a ghost story around a campfire. Have it be a crazed rant all across live TV that no one takes seriously. Have six different characters remember it differently and all argue over who’s right. Have someone tell it poorly, thinking it “just a stupid rumor”.

When to withhold exposition

Satisfaction is the death of desire and sometimes uncovering the details of an enticing tidbit of information ruins whatever the audience had imagined to fill in the blanks. In terms of “showing” vs “telling” concerning worldbuilding, deciding whether to have a character speak about the information, or actually writing the scene they’re referring to, is entirely dependant on the story you’re telling.

If you are going to write a flashback, or describe a video of the event, that flashback and video has to be *packed* with as much information as you can cram in there as artfully as you can. Flashbacks and dream sequences take up space and entire scenes and settings need establishing so the audience isn’t floating in the ether trying to follow along. Which tends to mean that the meat of the flashback is barely half of the words you’re now forced to read.

Decide how important it is that the audience sees the incident as it happened, versus told in the aftermath through the biases and flawed memory of another character.

Sometimes the fewest amount of words pack the biggest punch. You can have a shattered soldier describe the battle of which they’re the last survivor in gory detail, or you can have them simply say “it was hell” and let the oomph hit in their expression, how their voice cracks, how vacant their eyes look. The injuries they sustained, the traumas visible in how they hold themselves. At that point, the audience can imagine whatever hell they want. At that point, what you are "showing" (the emotional and physical toll taken on the speaker) is likely way more important than the battle itself.

Concerning pacing — no matter how hard you worked on designing your politics and royal lineages and fantasy geography, odds are if that information isn’t important to your characters, it isn’t important to your readers. It’s not motivated.

I love trivia and fantasy maps as much as everyone else, but I like them on the wikis and next to the table of contents, not interrupting an engaging story.

And, give your audience credit where credit is due. How many fan theories stand on the basis of a few scant lines of narration or zoomed-in snippets of background characters (R+L=J anyone?) and pieces of costume? The mystery is what makes it fun, and I just watched the criminally disappointing second adaptation of the Lightning Thief completely robbed of that mystery every chance they had.

—

In short, the amount of exposition isn’t what makes it well or poorly handled, it’s how and when it’s delivered. Inception is my favorite sci-fi movie and the entire script is exposition, but the way it’s given is entertaining. Motivating your details to exist for a reason, to be given exactly when the time is right and not a moment before, is the spoonful of sugar helping the medicine go down.

Make it timely

Make it relevant

Make it important to the cast

Make it earned by the cast

Make it entertaining

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #exposition #writing

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pippin-katz · 8 months

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The Fingers & Ring Touching

I have not seen anyone losing their minds like me over this shot:

Oh yes, people have been going feral, but not in the way that I am.

This shot is used in the film and in the credits. It’s adorable, we all know that. But I haven’t seen anyone pointing out the fact that the shot in the credits actually starts before the shot in the movie.

In the movie, they’re already touching hands when it cuts to them and shows them look at each other, then back up at the king.

In the credits, that doesn’t happen until after like 5 seconds of them playing with their fingers and smiling to themselves! We see Alex move his hand onto the couch and Henry reach out to start fiddling with the ring on his finger, and they both try not to laugh. It’s a longer shot!!

That means they have more footage of the two of them sitting together than what we saw. They set up the shot and started rolling, and probably had them play out the entire scene from that angle so they would have it all as one big piece of footage they could cut up rather than a bunch of little clips they'd have to tie together. Most of the scene is from this angle, so that makes even more sense.

Which ALSO means that this was extremely likely to be unscripted!

For one, this is such a small notion that I doubt they would've written it in as anything other than "Henry and Alex touch hands", which means they probably would have improvised what that entailed.

But the thing that makes me think it was unscripted is how Taylor tucks his lips in as if he's holding back a smile/laugh. Nicholas is smiling bigger when his head is down too. Taylor kind of cautiously does it, like he's trying not to be obvious, probably because they're filming, but it also works for Alex and the scene. He lowers his hand to the side of his leg and then onto the couch with his pinky stretched toward Nick.

So if they're running through the whole scene, this happens while the royal advisor person, Tommy, comes in to tell the king about the crowd forming outside. That means they have nothing to say or do while they have that exchange. All they have to do is sit there, probably in character in case Matthew ended up wanting to insert a shot of them, and stay quiet.

If you recall, or haven't seen the pre-recorded interviews with Nicholas and Taylor separately, they obviously both gush about how much fun it is to film with the other, but Taylor in particular mentions that they "get into a lot of trouble". Matthew has also mentioned that the most difficult part of working with them was how excited and hyper they got around each other and had to get them to "shut up and do the scene".

This all to say that it would not surprise me AT ALL if this was just them, either bored and fidgety, or trying to make the other laugh, especially given the fact that the both look like they're actively trying not to for a couple seconds before they control their expressions.

The fact that they're smiling at all in this situation can be used to remind the audience just how happy they make each other; that even during this godawful conversation, where the king was just blatantly rude and condescending to Alex, and has been dismissing Henry's feelings, they can make each other smile with nothing more than a single touch. The clip used in the film starts after they both look the most amused, once Nick's smile has turned back into more of "Henry" smile than his real one.

I hate them. Why are they so cute?

I wonder how much footage they have of the two of them just goofing off between takes or doing shit like this that didn't make the cut. I wish we could get a DVD with tons of behind the scenes content; I'm still watching the film every day, so I'm doing my part to keep its numbers boosted lmfao

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont diaz #taylor zakhar perez #henry hanover stuart fox #nicholas galitzine #firstprince #history huh #bet we could make some

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months

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Loser (incel) Reader and Sex-maid bot Yan. Reader orders their new toy same day shipping - grateful to the gods for not having to deal with the hassle of making themselves presentable to other humans, and no longer having to clean their room. A little mistake in mailing leads to them getting their robot a day later than expected, and a large crack in its visor. Reader is obviously pissed by this development, but powers the bot on to see the extent of the damage. It works just fine - minus the loss of its built in knowledge and abilities.

They know their prime directive, but they can't wash a single dish or fold clothes. Other parts of them still function so Reader is fine keeping them around and teaching them what to do while it warms their bed. The Bot feels so useless to their master. All they ever do is question them and break every vase they hold like the ditz it is. Their master even gave them the nickname of Melon likely for the damage they've taken. They'll probably have their memories erased when the repair team comes in....

"All fixed. Just a few unplugged wires at that nasty crack. There seems to be some other bugs, but we'd need to take it in to examine."

"You said they work now, right? It's fine. I don't want to have to teach them how to organize my desk properly again. Those figures are collectables."

Their master was letting them keep their precious memories?... The human had never been the nicest, but they weren't outright cruel either. It was almost....cute how protective of their belongings they were. It was their possession too... Fully capable of pleasing their master in all forms, Melon wouldn't waste their second chance.

They cook their master's favor meals without over seasoning or cooking it. They wash clothes and scold their silly master for wearing things multiple days at a time. They wait hand and foot by day and nights....nights are their favorite part. They sit quietly through their master's God awful attempts at flirting in the off chance they ever seek a human mate - but something's off. There's an ache in their chest whenever they imagine their master with another. Their answers to their master's terrible flirts comes start from that hole when the correct thing to do was tell them of their errors and why no human would want them if they said those things.

No human deserved them anyway... All their master needed to be satisfied - was them

Crackposts under cut - suggestive themes

Melon: Master, what's this? :)

Loser Reader: My body pillow. It stains easy so put it down.

Melon: Ah, it's precious to you then? I'll take good care of it :D

Melon: Master, what's this? :)

Loser Reader: A knife. Be careful with it.

Melon: Oh, it's dangerous? I'll keep it far away from you! <3

Melon: Master.... who is this?

Loser Reader: My crush from highschool. Meant to throw that picture away after they rejected me

Melon: They don't mean anything to you anymore?... I think I've found somewhere to store that knife

Loser Reader: sighs My friend really wants me to meet their sibling. Guess I better get dressed.

Melon, on their knees: Master ~ it currently 1:14pm. Time for your daily bi-hourly head

Loser Reader: My wha- [ziiip] Fuck, wait-

Loser Reader, attempting to flirt: you are a moderately attractive person and in the case I snap and kill everyone - I'd go on the run and change my name with you... or save you for last. How was that?

Melon, wiping fakes tears: You have such a beautiful way with words, master

Stranger: Oh, hello- Is Y/n home? We meet online at while ago and they gave me their addresses in case I visit because I only live an hour away

Melon: Hmph, can you pleasure my master while rearranging their game library in alphabetical order at the same time? I think not. Good-bye!

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere android #yandere robot

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felixsramen · 3 months

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Three of a kind

Pairing: Minsung x Chan x Reader

Summary: After getting tipsy with your boyfriend and his friends, you and Jisung have a moment but Chan and Minho catch you, you can't help but realize you may have gotten something you wanted all along.

Warnings: MxM, FxM, Jisung is a sub, Reader is a switch, Chan is a Dom, Minho is a switch. Degradation, Praising, Oral sex giving and receiving, fingering, pet names, anal because mxm,

Note: Honestly I did not expect it to be this long. It got out of hand tbh. Anyways I hope you enjoy it. I know I took forever to get this out but have been up all day finishing it.

Another day, another party. Parties were never your thing, much less people. A party full of people that you don't know made you extremely anxious. Being here wasn't high on your list of things you'd want to be doing, yet when you feel the hand on your lower back, you can't help but take a deep breath. Your boyfriend looks at you, giving you a smile, trying to help calm your nerves. The party was hosted by your boyfriend's business.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Chan asks, feeling you tense even under his touch. You nod to him, and he holds a pout on his face. "Please don't lie, love. I can tell when you lie," Chan tells you, and you let out a sigh.

"Do you want to go home yet?" Chan whispers softly to you. You feel guilty for him even asking you. You nod your head, and Chan nods. "We won't stay much longer," Chan says, kissing your head and moving his hand from your waist. Instead, his hand opens for you to take, and you smile at him.

A beep comes from Chan's back pocket, and he digs his hand into his back pocket. He reads the text, smiling. Chan puts the phone away once again after sending a text back. "Min and Ji are here. Do you want to talk to them for a bit?" Chan smiles at you, and you smile back at him.

"Yeah," you say softly, and he takes your hand in his, never dropping his smile. Minho and Jisung were your friends that you had met through your boyfriend. They pretty much know as much about you as your boyfriend does. They were both single, surprisingly, and you couldn't help but wonder why. There was no way it was their looks. They looked as if they were handcrafted by the gods. They had great personalities. You just didn't see anything wrong with them.

You go through the crowd of people, following your boyfriend's lead. Finally, your eyes land on the pair who is talking amongst themselves. Chan smiles as they look in your direction. You sigh softly, at least the familiar faces help calm your nerves. Jisung's face lights up, while Minho gives you a nod while glancing over your body.

"You look like a goddess," Jisung says, leaning in and grabbing your hand to kiss. Jisung was always the flirty one out of the two of them.

"Ji, just remember she's my girlfriend, so don't go trying to sweep her off her feet," Chan says, staring at the brown-haired boy with a joking smile.

Jisung lets out a small laugh at his words. "That's my specialty, Chan," Jisung jokes to him. Chan wasn't the jealous type when it came to the two men standing in front of you. Anyone else, though, would've earned a glare.

"Hi, Ji," you say with a soft smile to the man who had kissed your hands seconds ago. You notice black eyeliner sitting on his face, perfectly framing his eyes, and, fuck, you'd be lying if you said he didn't look so hot right now.

Jisung and Chan immediately start talking, and your eyes travel to the man beside him. Minho looks out of place here. Minho had never been one to attend events like this, so you were sure he was just as anxious here as you were. You can't help but grab Minho's hand, and he sighs.

"You doing okay, Min?" you say softly, and he shrugs. "I have to be. Ji is here, and you know how he gets," Minho says, reminding you of Jisung's social anxiety. You nod silently at him.

"How long have you been here?" Minho asks quietly. "Not even an hour yet," you reply. Minho nods at your words.

"What about you, sweetheart? How are you holding up?" Minho asks, remembering your own social anxiety.

You shake your head, and you can see pity on Minho's face. "I'm sorry. I'm sure Chan isn't going to keep you here too long, knowing everything," he says. You nod, and Minho sighs.

"I'm guessing you won't be here much longer either," you say, and Minho nods at your words. "Ji might have a panic attack if we stay too much longer. I'm surprised he hasn't already asked me to take him back home yet."

"Can you tell from his body language that he doesn't want to be here?" You can't help but look at Jisung, who is in conversation with your boyfriend. Nothing about Jisung screams off, though.

Minho lets out a chuckle as you look back at him and shake your head. "That's okay. I can. If you look closely, he has tension in his shoulders, his eyes are a little wider than normal because he's alert, and his posture is closed off. It's normal for a person to not spot those things, but I've known Ji for so long that it's like reading a book you know."

You nod as you look at him, noticing each thing he had pointed out. Jisung's and Chan's eyes finally meet yours once again. "Why are you looking at me like that? Did Minho do that weird thing again where he reads me?" Jisung says, eyes looking to Minho, and Minho smirks.

"He did! Min, I told you to quit doing that!" Jisung says, scolding him, and Minho rolls his eyes. "Not my fault that you're so easy to read," Minho says, earning a playful glare from Jisung.

"I can't stand him sometimes, y/n," Jisung says, a smile on his face, rolling his eyes. Minho ignores him, instead having a conversation with Chan about work.

Jisung steps closer to you and smiles. "I missed you." Glasses sit on the top of his nose, almost falling off, and you can't help but giggle at that. You bring a hand up, pushing them back on his face. "I missed you too, Ji," you say, and he opens his arms for you. You can't help but wrap your arms around him.

"How have you been, princess?" Jisung asks softly. "I've been okay, Ji. What about you?" you say, and he smiles at you.

"I'm great," Jisung says, trying to assure you. You can't help but notice the rings on his fingers. "Those are new, aren't they?" You ask him, and he looks away from you, a blush forming on his face. "Yeah, Minho bought them for me. We're kind of a thing now." Your eyes widen at his words.

"I don't see you for 2 weeks, and you and Minho are a thing now. You and Mr. OCD himself?" You say, shock evident on your face. Jisung laughs but nods. "I know. It's a long story. I'll tell you some other day when we have time." A hand wraps around your waist. "Or how about tonight? We have nothing to do tonight. You both are more than welcome over," Chan says, and Minho looks to Jisung, who smiles and nods.

"Yeah, we can. We don't have anything to do," Minho says, besides Jisung. "Good. I need quality time with my y/n." Grabbing your hand, Jisung smiles. "We were just about to leave. You guys okay with that?" Jisung and Minho nod. Jisung holds your hand all the way to Chan's car before being pulled to Minho's.

You sit on your couch, wine glass in hand, heels discarded by the front door. Minho and Chan have disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you and Jisung alone. "So, how did you and Minho end up together?" you ask, and Jisung giggles, probably already tipsy, as he had already drunk the wine from his glass. Jisung was always a lightweight. According to Chan, you were just like him, a lightweight.

"So, we actually got together a week ago. The first week we didn't see you, we ended up getting into an argument because I was avoiding him. I confessed to him in the heat of the argument. Then he kissed me and yeah. I knew I liked him about a month ago though," Jisung says, and you set your wine glass down. "And you didn't tell me?"

Jisung sighs. "I wasn't sure how to tell anyone, really. You know?" You take Jisung's hands into yours, and he sighs. "I understand, Ji. I'm so proud of you, though."

"Proud?" Jisung says back, and you nod. "You confessed to him. I don't think I could be that brave, you know."

Jisung smiles at you. "Do you trust me?" You tilt your head in confusion. "Of course I do, Ji."

"Good," Jisung says softly. Before you realize it, a hand meets your thigh, and Jisung plants a kiss on your lips. He pulls away and smiles. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

Jisung's glasses sit on the edge of his nose again. You look at him in shock. Jisung's smile drops, and he becomes worried, clearly sobering up some at his actions. "Shit. I shouldn't have done that." Jisung continues to ramble on, and you sigh.

You bring a hand to his face, pushing his glasses back up. You continue to look into his eyes. Your lips meet his again, and you can't help but wonder if it's the alcohol you had. The kiss starts off innocent until Jisung kisses you harder.

This time, it's Minho's words breaking you apart. "What did I tell you, Chan?" Minho says, and your eyes fall on your boyfriend, expecting to see hatred, sadness, disappointment, or even all three. Instead, a smirk appears on his face.

"A little alcohol and they're all over each other. I guess you were right, Min." Chan and Minho make their way to the couch, except Minho sits beside you and Chan sits beside Jisung.

"Kissing my girlfriend?" Jisung bites his lip at Chan's words, looking down. Chan picks up Jisung's chin to look at him. Chan smirks when Jisung's eyes meet his. "Pretty boy. You could've just asked, and I would've let you," Jisung's eyes widen in surprise. "Where's the guy who just kissed my girlfriend seconds ago? What about me? Don't I deserve a kiss, Ji?" Chan says, faking a pout.

Jisung nods, and Chan's fake pout drops. "Good boy," Chan says softly, and Jisung kisses him. You can't help but watch, mesmerized.

You're eventually pulled out of your trance when Minho brings a hand to your face to look at him. He gives you a fake pout. "Too mesmerized by our boyfriends kissing? Forgot I exist?" Minho asks, and you shake your head. "Couldn't ever forget you exist, Min," you say absentmindedly as Minho lets out a chuckle.

"You're so cute. I don't know how Chan doesn't bend you over the couch and fuck you every time you open that mouth of yours. I guess I'll just have to shut you up with my mouth tonight," Minho clicks his tongue and immediately goes in for a kiss.

The kiss is heated and filled with need. You can't help but want more of him. You need more of them. Eventually, though, Minho pulls away and his eyes fall behind you. You look behind you and see Jisung, whose glasses are now on the coffee table. Your eyes fall on your boyfriend, though.

"Maybe if you guys weren't tipsy, we could all have some fun together," Chan tskts and Minho chuckles. "Maybe some other time then. It's getting rather late, isn't it, Chan?" Minho says, and Chan smirks. "It is, Min. I think you guys should get home soon," Jisung whines at your boyfriend's words. You can't help the small pout that comes to your face. "Careful, Ji, or I'll have to punish you when you get home," Minho says, and Jisung immediately shuts up. Minho grabs your chin to look at him. "This isn't over yet, sweetheart. It's just best if we do it all with sober minds," Minho says, making you feel slightly better. You nod softly, and Minho kisses your lips once more.

You look at Jisung, who looks more upset than you. You can't help but kiss the pout off his face, and he smiles softly. "So cute," you say, and he giggles.

"Let's get going, Ji," Minho says softly, and Jisung nods, grabbing his glasses off the table. "So unfair. Stupid wine," Jisung grumbles before being led out the door.

4 days. That's how long it takes for you to hear from Jisung and Minho. You couldn't help but wonder if Jisung was regretting his actions. How do you even face him ever again if he does?

"Sweetheart?" Chan says, leaning over the couch. His smile shows his dimples. However, his smile fades when he sees you pinching your skin and ignoring the TV.

Chan comes around the couch and sits in front of you. He takes your hands into his and sighs softly. "Baby, I told you how much I hate when you do that. I know it's an anxiety thing of yours. What's got you so anxious?" Chan asks softly, and you sigh.

"You're okay with everything that happened the other day?" you ask him, and he brings a hand to your face. "Of course I am. Are you okay with everything?" Chan asks, caressing your face. "Yeah. I liked it a lot."

Chan gives you a look, telling you to continue. "What about Minho and Jisung? Do you think they're okay with everything? What if Jisung regrets kissing me? What do I do if he does? How do we even face them?" Chan looks at you, quite surprised at the questions hurled his way.

"Okay, deep breaths first," Chan says, and you do exactly as he says. "Okay. First off, sweetheart, just because you haven't heard from them doesn't mean something's wrong. I'm sure they've just been busy. Second, if Jisung regrets kissing you, he'd be insane. Only a madman would regret kissing you. If Jisung truly thought he shouldn't have done that, don't you think he'd tell you? It's Jisung, after all," Chan says, and you can't help but let out a small giggle.

"If he does regret kissing you, we'll act as if nothing happened. As if we had gone our separate ways that night. We'll still hang out, maybe not as much, but they're our friends, aren't they? They won't just disappear completely out of our lives," Chan says, trying to gently reassure you. Chan's words settle, and you can't help but let out a breath you were holding.

"Thank you, Channie. I needed that," you say quietly, and he kisses your head. "You're my girlfriend, I'm supposed to do this. Don't thank me," Chan says back with a smile.

Suddenly, your phone rings, and Jisung's name lights it up. You pick up your phone, answering it. "Hi, Ji." You say softly into the phone.

"Princessss," Jisung says, holding the s out. "How are you feeling?" He asks quickly, calming down.

"I'm okay. What about you guys?" you say softly, and he sighs.

"We're okay. I miss you though. It got so busy afterwards. What are you doing tonight? You guys should come over. Minho will be a little bit late but not by too much," Jisung says happily.

You look at Chan. Chan just nods. "Yeah, we can make it tonight."

"I get to see you again and spend time with you. This time I'm not drinking any alcohol with you," Jisung says, making you giggle, and he whines.

"You're such a lightweight," you say, and he lets out a whine. "It's not because of that. I want to have sex with you and Chan. Minho told me we had to be sober though," Jisung says a little more quietly.

"You want to have sex with both of us?" you ask, slightly surprised. Jisung says nothing, and you think he's hung up. "Is it that surprising? I mean, look at you guys. I thought it was pretty clear after kissing you and your boyfriend. You do want to have sex with us, right?" Jisung asks, sounding unsure if you were regretting everything that happened.

"Of course I do. Are you sure?" you ask, still skeptical about everything. "Of course I am. I mean, you're both hot as fuck. Minho thinks the exact same thing. You want to know what Minho told me about Chan though?" You look at your boyfriend, and he can't help but be just as curious as you are.

"He told me he wanted to fuck Chan. Can't blame him though. Hell, I completely understand it, but I prefer for him to fuck my brains out," Jisung says, and you can't help but look at your boyfriend. Chan has a smirk on his face, and you look on curiously.

"Is that so, Ji?" Chan says, and you can hear a squeak over the phone. "Why didn't you tell me that you were on speaker? He heard everything I said?" Jisung says, and you can't help but laugh at that.

"Sorry. Yeah, he did," Chan laughs quietly, and you can't help but smile. "Let Min know that I'd love to fuck him instead," Chan says, closer to the phone now.

"Seriously? That would be a sight to see," Jisung says almost dreamily. Chan can't help but let out a laugh. "Yeah? I'd love to fuck you too," Chan says, and you hear another squeak leave Jisung before he hangs up the phone. You can't help but look at Chan and hit his shoulder playfully. "Seriously, you embarrassed him, Chan." Chan can't help but laugh at your pouty face. "It's not my fault he's so fuckable," Chan says, laughing, and you sigh, leaning your head on him.

Before you know it, you're knocking on the door. You can't help but wonder if Jisung is home, seeing that no car is outside. Yet it doesn't take long for the door to open. You're greeted with a bright smile on Jisung's face, his glasses almost falling off. Jisung immediately takes you in his arms.

"I missed you. Can I kiss you?" Jisung asks, yet immediately lets go of you. Chan has an amused smile on his face. "So direct. We just got here and your boyfriend isn't even here," Chan says, and Jisung backs away, giving you room.

"Sorry, I'm just excited," Jisung mumbles, and you can't help but giggle at his overexcitedness. You want to lean in and kiss the small pout he has on his face off, but you decide against it.

Jisung opens the door and invites you in. You make your way to the living room and sit on the couch with Chan beside you. Chan's hand meets your thigh, and you can't help but relax. Jisung sits beside you, and Chan shakes his head with a light chuckle. Jisung tilts his head at your boyfriend's chuckle.

"You're so desperate, Sungie. What makes you think I'm going to let you have her first?" Chan says, and Jisung lets out a small whine. "Get up and come here," Chan tells him.

Jisung doesn't hesitate to stand up and walk over to Chan. "On your knees," Jisung listens, and Chan lets out another chuckle. "So compliant, Sungie. I wonder what Minho would think?" Jisung lets out a small whine, and Chan caresses his face. "Min is so lucky, isn't he? A pretty little thing like you to fuck anytime he wants. I have my pretty little plaything already, but I can't help but wonder if you make pretty sounds just like her."

Jisung leans into his touch, and you think this might be the prettiest sight you've ever seen. "Min says I make the prettiest sounds," Jisung mumbles almost absentmindedly. Chan can't help but chuckle, and Jisung's face turns red, realizing what he's said.

"Don't be embarrassed. I'm sure you do. Just like my pretty girl right here," Chan says, and Jisung's eyes fall on you. "Could I hear?" Chan chuckles at his request but nods. "Of course you can," Chan says softly before moving his hand to your face and kissing you softly.

"My pretty girl has been so patient. She does deserve a reward after all," Chan says, his other hand going under your shirt. You can't help but let out a soft moan as his cold hands meet your body.

Chan's hand travels up your body, and he places his mouth on your neck, making you move your head so he can get better access. A louder moan comes out when he starts sucking on your neck. Your eyes meet Jisung's, and he quickly looks away and down at his hands.

"Channie?" you moan softly. He pulls away and smirks at you. "I'll play with you some more in a little bit," Chan whispers softly to you, pecking your lips, and his attention goes back to Jisung.

Jisung looks at his hands, and Chan sighs, lifting his chin to look at him in the eyes. "I thought you wanted a show, guess not. That's okay though," Chan says, and Jisung lets out his own sigh.

"I enjoyed it, I promise. Just a little too much," Jisung says quietly, and your eyes travel down to the boner that is poking through the sweatpants he has on. "Look at you, pretty boy. I'll help you with that, just hope Min won't be too upset about us starting without him." Chan leans down and kisses Jisung, who practically melts into the kiss.

"Well, look at this," you hear, and your eyes meet Minho's, who has his arms crossed, leaning against the door. Jisung quickly pulls away from Chan and looks at Minho.

"My good boy has his tongue down someone else's throat," Minho says, and that immediately has Jisung looking down at his hands again.

"This was your plan, Ji? Could've just told me you invited them over. I would've gotten off earlier," Minho says, approaching Jisung now.

"I'm sorry, Min. Wanted to surprise you," Jisung says softly. Minho picks his head up with a finger. "Don't apologize. I know you wanted this for a long time. Might as well let Channie have his way with you then," Minho says softly, and his eyes glance up to Chan. "Don't break him, Chan. I still want to be able to use him next time we have sex."

Chan chuckles softly. "I won't break him, Min, as long as you don't break my pretty girl."

Minho looks at you and then back at Chan, smirking. "I'll try not to," Minho says before making his way beside you. He sits next to you, and you can't help but stare at him for a second. He is wearing a suit with his sleeves rolled up. His hair is slightly messy, but it makes him look even hotter, if that's even possible.

"You're drooling, sweetheart," Minho says, chuckling, and you roll your eyes at him. "I was going to compliment you, but now I'm going to keep my mouth shut," you say, and he gently grabs your wrist.

You look at him, tilting your head, and he chuckles once again. "You're so cute, you know? Go ahead, tell me what you were thinking, sweetheart," Minho tells you softly. You let out a sigh, and Minho waits for you to tell him. "You look hot. I want you, Min," you say softly. Minho smirks and gets closer to you, close enough for him to kiss you but he doesn't.

"You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that," Minho says right at your lips. He glances into your eyes before looking back at your lips. You can't help yourself and lean in to kiss him. It takes Minho by surprise, but he quickly relaxes into it and takes control.

Minho's hands make their way towards you, and he brings you into his lap; he refuses to pull away from the kiss, though. You hear moans from behind you now and recognize them as your boyfriend's. Minho refuses to let you pull away, though, and look.

Minho's tongue parts past your lips, making you focus on him. He tries to explore every inch of your mouth, and you can't help but let him. You sigh softly, melting into his hold, and as soon as you do, Minho pulls away.

Minho smiles down at you. "Relax, sweetheart. I got you. You trust me, right?" Minho says softly, and you nod. "Good. I would never hurt you," Minho tells you. You nod softly. "I know." Minho can't help but give you another soft smile.

"Here, I'll give you a view of the show," Minho says, flipping you around on his lap. Your eyes meet Jisung's, who has your boyfriend's dick in his mouth. Chan's head is thrown back, letting out moan after moan, eyes closed. You feel Minho's hands make their way under your shirt. "It's such a pretty sight, isn't it? Ji taking your boyfriend in his mouth." Minho's hands travel to your bra and unclasp it. You let out a sigh, and your body falls into Minho's.

"Pretty girl," Minho mumbles into your ear, and you let out a moan as one hand starts to play with your boob. The other travels down to your pants. It doesn't take long for him to unbutton it, and his hand makes its way into your panties. You're wet already, and he seems to notice that by letting out a chuckle.

"Haven't done much, and you're soaked. I wonder how long you've been waiting for this?" Minho asks, but you don't reply, already lost in the pleasure as he pushes a finger inside.

"You're so pretty like this, you know," Minho tells you softly as he puts his head on your neck. Minho softly kisses your neck, and you can't help but let out an embarrassingly loud moan. Minho doesn't stop, instead he seems to be spurred on by your moan. His finger fucks into you faster, and you can't help but let out moan after moan.

Jisung's eyes can't help but watch as his boyfriend fingers you. Jisung couldn't help but want to know what you tasted like. He couldn't help but assume you'd taste sweet. A hand comes to his hair, though, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Chan pulls Jisung completely off, and you can tell how disappointed he was by the way he pouts. Chan runs a hand through Jisung's hair, trying to get it out of his face. Jisung whines and pouts. Chan frowns slightly at that but leans down and kisses his lips before whispering in his ear. Jisung's face immediately lights up, and his eyes look over at you.

Minho notices as Jisung crawls over to you and spreads your legs. Jisung smiles at you, and you'd think it was adorable if he didn't lick his lips and stare at you as if you were a meal. Jisung kisses the inside of your thigh as Minho moves his hands to your thighs, digging his nails into them, forcing you to open them so Jisung can have more room.

"You're so pretty," Jisung quietly tells you before kissing your clit. You let out a moan at the feeling. "Can I?" Jisung softly asks as if he was unsure you'd want it.

"Please, Ji," you weakly whisper, and that's all it takes for him. Jisung gets to fucking you with his tongue. It's messy and so good that you think you might start seeing stars.

"Ji," you plead with him, but he doesn't hear you, working you open with his tongue.

"G-gonna make me cum," Jisung seems to hear that because he speeds up. It doesn't take much longer for you to be thrown straight into your first orgasm of the night. Your eyes roll back, and you see stars.

When the stars subside, Jisung is still pumping his tongue in and out of you. Your hand goes to his hair, pulling him off. A soft whimper leaves his mouth, and you can't help but want to fuck more sounds like that out of him.

Jisung looks at Minho for a second behind you and glances over at Chan, who nods with a smirk on his face. Jisung's hands go to your hips, and you sigh softly. Minho helps him guide you into his lap on the ground. Jisung sits you on top of his boner, wanting you to feel him. Another small whimper comes out of his mouth, and you start softly grinding on him. More whimpers and pleas fall out of his mouth.

"Let me fuck you, please?" Jisung says, a whimper following that sentence. Jisung's hips start bucking up, meeting your grinding. A small moan leaves your lips, and you nod. You move off Jisung's lap, and he makes quick work of pulling his sweatpants and boxers down. You feel yourself practically salivate at his cock. How could a cock be pretty? You didn't know, but Jisung had a pretty cock. You didn't get to stare for much longer before he's whining.

"I want you, please, y/n?" Jisung whines, and you nod. Your hands go to his chest, pushing him to lay down on the ground, and his eyes go wide. "I want to ride you. That's okay, right?" You say softly, and he immediately nods, his tongue poking out quickly to lick his lips. You pull your pants and underwear off and line yourself up with him before sinking down slowly. Another moan comes out of you, and a moan comes out of Jisung at the same time.

"You're so pretty," Jisung mumbles softly, only for you to hear. You let out a shaky breath, and your hands come beside Jisung. His hands find yours, and he gently guides them to his chest to help you balance. You rise up and sink back down on him, letting out a moan. Jisung lets out a sound between a whimper and a moan.

Jisung's hands roam your body as you softly bounce on him, pulling moan after moan out of him. Your hands find his for a second as you stop riding him, and he whines. You have his hands travel to your boobs so he can occupy his hands. Jisung thinks he could cum right now if you told him to, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he softly kneads your boobs as your hands go back to his chest.

"Look at this. You're going to make him cum without even riding him anymore. Poor Jisungie. Thought you wanted this?" Minho tsks after his own words, and Jisung thinks he's going to cry. Not just from Minho's harsh words but Minho's words and how tight you were around him.

"Wanted this. So much. Just. Tight. She's so tight. I think I'm going to explode, Min," Jisung says, struggling to get the words out with the fog that's in his brain.

You start bouncing on him once again, but this time, your mouth meets his, and you swallow the loud moans coming out of his mouth. Your own moans are swallowed by him as you make out with him. You can feel the knot in your stomach starting to rise and bounce slightly faster as your tongue goes inside his mouth.

Jisung's hands make their way down to your hips. He gently flips you over so now you're on your back and starts fucking into you harder and faster. More whimpers and silent pleas fall from his mouth. Jisung was desperate for his release at this point but he had to hold on until you came. Luckily it didn't take much longer and with a few more thrusts, you're cumming around him.

Your eyes roll back and you swear that you see stars before you're coming back down. You feel Jisung's head on your neck still whimpering your name, and you know you're overstimulated yet can't help but let him continue to fuck into you. You think you might pass out if he doesn't cum soon. "Let me cum, please. I can cum right? I've been so good," Jisung whines into your neck. "Go ahead, Sungie, cum. You've been so good. You can cum," you say, and that's all it takes for him to cum inside you. Jisung stays still whimpering into your neck and practically shaking.

Luckily, after about a minute, he seems to come down from his high. Jisung doesn't move his head from your neck, instead pressing a few lazy kisses against it. Your hand goes to his hair, and you softly run your fingers through his hair.

Your eyes meet Chan's, and you swear his eyes are filled with complete love. Minho looks at you both with complete adoration but then looks over at Chan, who hasn't stopped looking away. Minho's eyes are once again filled with lust.

Minho doesn't take long, though, and he quickly has Chan pinned to the couch. Chan's eyes are wide for a second, but then a smirk is on his face. "You're so cute sometimes, Min." Minho ignores his comment, rolling his hips on Chan, earning a groan.

"Bad kitty," Minho smirks at Chan's words and grinds down on Chan once again, earning a moan from the dark-haired guy under him. Chan glares at him, and it doesn't take Chan long to flip Minho over, now pinning him to the couch. "Such a bad kitty. Trying to take charge. You told Ji you wanted to fuck me? Pretty kitty. Ji told me how much he wanted to see me fuck you, though. Might as well give him what he wants, right?"

Chan holds Minho down on the couch with one hand and makes quick work of his clothes. Minho looks away, embarrassed when Chan starts staring at his cock. Chan's hand that isn't pinning Minho down goes to his face, making him look at him. "Pretty kitty with a pretty cock," Chan mumbles, and Minho seems to get even more embarrassed.

Chan's hand goes back to Minho's cock, giving it an experimental stroke. Minho lets out a whimper, and Chan can't help but smile. Chan starts slowly stroking Minho, earning more moans and whimpers. "Hear that, Ji? Pretty kitty is moaning," Chan says, and Minho lets out another whimper, falling apart because of Chan. Jisung and you can't help but watch, mesmerized by it.

"I can fuck you, right? Make my pretty kitty cum all over himself?" Chan asks Minho, who nods, clearly desperate. Chan luckily takes his nod as an answer and lets go of Minho's cock. Chan carefully flips Minho over.

"Ass up," Chan says, and Minho surprisingly listens. Chan thinks he might cum right then and there. Minho's back is arched deliciously, and Chan can't help but rub his back, sending chills down Minho's spine.

"Haven't ever been fucked before, kitty?" Chan asks, and Minho says nothing, burying his face in the couch, mumbling. "Speak up, kitty." Minho finally lifts his head. "No. Just fuck me already, Chan," Minho says, his voice angry, trying to cover his embarrassment. "Aww, poor kitty. So used to taking care of others. Going to let me take care of you?" Chan rubs circles onto Minho's hips.

"If you don't fuck me right now, Chan, I swear to go-" Minho is cut off by Chan, who pushes a finger inside of him. "So fucking needy and desperate. Got to prep you," Chan says, fucking Minho open slowly. Minho's head is thrown back, and his back arches even more. Moan after moan comes out of Minho, and Chan adds a second finger.

"Such a good kitty. Taking my fingers so I can prep you for my cock," Chan says, praising him as he continues working him open. You swear you could cum again at the sight alone, but you were already tired from the two orgasms you had previously. It doesn't take long before Chan is adding another finger, and you watch as Minho lets out more moans. "G-going to cum, Channie. Please let me cum," Minho pleads with Chan, but he pulls his fingers out of his ass.

"No, no, no. Channie. Why'd you do that? I was- I was so close," Minho pleads with him, and you swear you think he's going to cry. "Wanna watch you cum on my cock. Fall apart so beautifully," Chan wishes he had a condom right now, but he knew Minho would probably start crying soon if he didn't get his cock. Minho whines, feeling empty, and Chan swears he hears him sniffle.

"Don't cry, kitty. Going to fuck you dumb," Chan says softly and brings his hand to Minho's hips, guiding himself into Minho, earning more moans. Minho swears under his breath as Chan slides into him. Chan leans over Minho's body, bottoming out finally. Minho takes a deep breath.

"Tell me when you're ready for me to move," Chan plants a kiss on Minho's shoulder blade, and after a minute or two, he nods. Chan slowly pulls out and then pushes back into him. Minho's moans get louder and more high-pitched as Chan starts slowly fucking into him. Chan places another kiss on his shoulder blade, trying to calm Minho, who is almost shaking.

Minho's arms finally give out, forcing him to fall into the couch, muffling his moans. Chan wants to hear his moans, so he carefully pulls him up and decides to hold him up since he can't hold himself. Minho lets out whines, and Chan swears he's going to cum just listening to his moans.

Chan thrusts himself deeper into Minho, causing both of them to let out groans. Minho responds with a high-pitched whine, indicating that Chan has found his prostate. Eager to hear more of those sounds, Chan continues to pound into that spot. Sensing that Minho is close to climax, Chan pushes on.

In just three more thrusts, Minho climaxes all over the couch. Chan follows suit, still inside Minho. Fortunately, he regains his strength just in time, as he feels his arms about to give out, and he doesn't want to accidentally squish Minho against the couch. With the last of his energy, Chan manages to lift Minho and place him on his chest before his arms finally give out.

Deep breaths can be heard between them. Minho's head lays on Chan's chest, trying to still catch his breath from that earth-shattering orgasm. Chan rubs circles into Minho's back lazily as their breathing slows and their hearts feel like they're beating out of their chests. Eventually, they calm down, and Minho picks his head up. He expects anything but the expression on Chan's face.

Chan has a smile on his face. Minho frowns slightly. "Don't look at me like that," Minho says softly, and the smile doesn't leave Chan. "How am I looking at you, Min?" Chan says, as if he doesn't understand it, but you know he does. "Like how you were looking at them earlier. Like you're in love with me." Chan frowns now instead.

"Do you not want me to be?" Disappointment is dripping in his words. You swear you see your boyfriend's heart break. Minho looks at Jisung, who seems to be surprised, and you can tell sadness is in his eyes. "I thought you were in love with both of them too. It's okay if you aren't. I just thought that..." Jisung says sadly, trailing off.

Minho sighs softly. Minho looks at Chan once more. "I am. I'm head over heels for both of them. It scares me though." Minho looks down now at his hands that are shaking. Chan softly grabs Minho's hands, bringing them to his heart. "Don't be scared. I would never do anything to hurt you. I care about you both. Not just Jisung. Not just you. I care about both of you."

Minho doesn't meet his eyes yet. "It's not that. I'm not scared of you. I could never be scared of you," Minho says, and Chan softly grabs his chin, trying to get him to look at him.

"Could you tell me what you're scared of then?" Chan asks him, almost too softly. "There would be 4 of us if I do decide I want you all. What if I can't make time for all of you? What if someone gets jealous because I'm spending more time with someone else? What if we break up?" Chan's heart breaks at Minho's confession.

"Min? Could you look at me?" Chan asks softly. Minho finally looks at Chan, and he has tears threatening to spill.

"Those are so many what-ifs, sweetheart. We can't dwell on what-ifs, okay? We'll all make time with each other if that makes you feel better. We'll have mandatory date nights every Friday. Secondly, if we get jealous because we feel like you're not spending enough time with us, we'll come to you and tell you that. We're all adults, so we can do that. Lastly, we won't break up because we all love each other too much. If we feel like it's too much, we'll let everyone know," Chan says. That's when Minho starts crying and puts his head against Chan's chest. Chan looks at you and Jisung worriedly, as if he said something wrong.

"I hate you sometimes, Chan. I really do. What kind of boyfriend makes their boyfriend cry? Why do you have to be so sweet?" Minho says, hitting Chan's chest, and he winces but lets out a laugh.

"Boyfriend?" Chan says, and Minho looks up at Chan, trying to wipe the tears quickly. "Don't make me regret saying that. I'll take it back," Minho says, and Chan laughs.

"Of course I won't," Chan says, wrapping his arms around Minho. Chan places a kiss on Minho's head, who makes a face, and you and Jisung can't help but laugh.

"Oh hush. I don't want to hear anything from you both," Minho says, laying his head on Chan's chest, sending a playful glare at you both.

Jisung pouts. "You see how our boyfriend treats us. He doesn't really love us," Jisung says with a playful pout on his face.

"I do love you guys. You just are annoying," Minho says, and you shake your head. "I guess Ji was right. Our boyfriend really doesn't love us," you say with a pout just the same as Jisung's.

Minho goes to stand up and almost loses balance. Luckily, Chan catches him before he hits the ground and brings him into his chest. "Careful, love. I don't want you to hurt yourself." Minho pouts softly. "Fuck you, Chan. I can't even go kiss our boyfriend and girlfriend to show them I love them because you took away my ability to walk," Minho says, and Chan laughs.

"I haven't heard Y/N complain about not being able to walk," Chan says softly. Before you can speak up, Jisung does. "Yeah, because she was too busy complaining to me about it," Jisung says before hiding his face in your neck once more.

Chan just smirks in return. "That just means I'll have to see if you'll complain about it too," Chan says, and a small whine leaves Jisung.

"Y/N! He's threatening me," Jisung says with a whine. Minho just laughs. "I don't think you were complaining about that yesterday. Matter of fact, didn't you say-" Minho is quickly cut off by Jisung. "Well, look at that, I think it's time to go shower. Shouldn't we go shower?" Jisung says quickly standing up and helping you stand, yet you think your knees are going to give out. Jisung quickly lets you lean against him.

"Actually, thinking they should shower first," Jisung says, looking at Chan, who laughs with a nod. "Yeah, they probably should. A bath is probably better so they don't fall," Chan says jokingly, and Jisung laughs. They both lead you and Minho to the tub and turn on the water for you both to get in.

"Can I take back what I said about you being my boyfriend?" Minho says in reply to Chan's joke. "I agree. I think we should set up a group club dedicated to those who have been affected by his jokes," you say softly, and Jisung shakes his head.

"Neither of you get to do that. You both agreed to dating me, and now it's too late," Chan says, kissing Minho's head and then yours.

"How did you survive with this man?" Minho asks jokingly, and you shake your head. "I don't know."

"You know at least Jisung isn't trying to break up with me and make a club dedicated to my jokes," Chan says, looking at Jisung who smiles. "True, but if they asked me to join the club, I wouldn't say no. I mean, look at them. They're hot, Chan. They could get me to agree with anything," Jisung says, and Chan pouts.

"I've been betrayed by all my lovers in a span of minutes. What do I do now?" Chan says, and Jisung places a soft kiss on his lips.

"Learn to deal with it," Jisung whispers softly against his lips.

Taglist: @20minsat180degrees @oreoqueen @mellhwang

#poly skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz minho smut #skz chan smut #skz jisung smut

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