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sundaysundaes · 4 years

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Make a Wish

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | College AU

Summary: It’s your birthday today and instead of giving you a box of gift, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, decides to grant five of your wishes. You can’t help but feel a smirk creeping up your face. It’s time to get a little… creative.

This can be read as a stand alone but if you want to read it in order, you can start with Before Our Story Began and Jealousy.

You were having a dream. A really nice dream about your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, where for once in his twenty-years of living, he promised himself not to whine about anything ever again for the rest of his life. He was situated in difficult positions—got an F for the papers that he’d worked on for days, overcooked his eggs until they tasted like a pile of ashes in his mouth during breakfast, or lost a battle because Jaemin was too distracted with Jeno’s dick rubbing against his ass during the game. And even then, he did not form any complaint or whine with his head thrown back like how he usually would’ve done. It was a pleasant dream, seeing him all mature like that.

But then you woke up to the sound of that boyfriend of yours, screaming—literally screaming—directly to your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL,” as if it wasn’t the middle of the night where he could wake up the whole dorm.

So now, you’re glowering at him with bleary eyes, wiping your drool away with the back of your hand. Haechan shows his phone screen, grinning when he sees you noticing with squinted eyes that it’s 00.00 am and the date written underneath it is your birthday.

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter, sinking your face back into the pillow and pulling the blanket over your head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Haechannie.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Your boyfriend is loud, too loud. You understand that Jaemin is having a sleepover at Jeno’s place so Haechan has the entire room for himself but that does not give him the right to scream right next to your ear like this. Especially when you’re this sleepy with nothing but exhaustion pumping through your veins.

“Noona~” He shakes you by the shoulder, peeling the blanket off your body and succeeding, even when you’ve tried your best to keep it tangled around you. “Come on, it’s your birthday. We have to celebrate!”

“We’ll celebrate when the sun is out. Like normal people.”

“No way, come on! You can sleep some other time!”

“You can be annoying some other time.”

He huffs loudly, puffing out his cheeks. “If you don’t get up, I’ll do things to you.”

You sigh. You know what kind of things he’s referring to and as much as you love it, you’re really drained from the part-time job you did earlier today. It’s true that you haven’t had sex with him for more than a week or so and you kind of miss doing those sort of things with him but you’re just so tired that you ended up crashing face-first on his bed earlier this evening the second you arrived in his room. You hadn’t even kissed him properly yet.

“Okay, fine.” You sit up on his bed with your shirt—or rather, his shirt—all wrinkled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “What do you want us to do? If it’s sex, you have to wait because I’m dead tired right now.”

“I wanted to give you your present, actually.” But the way he juts out his bottom lip seems like sex was exactly what he had in mind.

“Okay, so where is it?” You ask, considering you don’t really see him carrying a box of gift with a red bow wrapped around it.

“Well, it’s kinda predictable for me to be giving you like an actual present, so I thought hey, maybe I can grant you a wish. Any kind of wish,” he emphasizes, raising that eyebrow of his in the way he knows you like it. “If you know what I mean.”

You ignore him completely, though the sight of his sexy smirk still leaves you unfocused for a good few seconds. “Only one? On my birthday? Do you even want to do this or are you just making an excuse for not buying me a present?”

“Yah!” He scrunches his nose, playfully jabbing a finger to your stomach. “I don’t see you granting me any wishes on my birthday!”

“You wanted to come inside me and I allowed you to do just that. Twice. Stop being so ungrateful.”

That wipes the playful angry look off his face almost instantly. “You’re right, fine,” he concedes, looking at you with a disinterested look in his eyes. “How many wishes do you want then?”

“I don’t know, like, fifty?”

“The hell? Do I look like Santa to you?”

“If you keep eating those samgyeopsal past midnight, your belly will.”

“Stop body-shaming me, you little—“ He suddenly leaps over, attacking you with tickles to the sides of your stomach until you fall back to the bed with his bare chest hovering over your body. You retaliate by moving your legs around, trying to kick him away but failing every time. You can barely hold back your laughter. He only stops when your face grows scarlet and your chest heaving up and down, slightly out of breath. “I’ll give you three wishes,” he offers, a bit breathless as well. “Only because you look so irresistible right now with those lips of yours.”

“Make it ten, then.” You play with his necklace, twisting it around your finger. Your other hand draws a line on his golden skin, starting from the column of his neck down to his chest. “And I’ll be even more irresistible.”

“Hmm, tempting.” His lips slowly breaking into a sultry smile. “But no. I’ll give you three and that’s final.”

“If you give me five,” you say, hooking a finger around his silver necklace this time so you can bring his face down to yours and whisper in his ear, “I’ll let you cum in my mouth later today.”

His entire face beams up almost like a kid on his first school trip. “You get yourself a deal, sister!”

You smile, caressing his cheek softly with your fingers. His gaze softens, leaning against your touch like how a kitten would. “Well then, here’s my first wish,” you speak softly as if you’re telling a secret. Your lips are just a few inches away from his, and he licks his lower lip in anticipation. “No doing sexual activities whatsoever with me on my birthday.”

That sensual, excited look he has on his face earlier? Gone, being immediately replaced by sheer horror. “What?!” He shrieks when his realization sinks in. “BUT YOU SAID YOU’D LET ME CUM IN YOUR MOUTH LATER TODAY!”

You grin at him, almost cackling out loud. “It’s not fun being on the other side of a prank, is it now, Haechannie?”

“You’re so—” But even the infamous Lee Haechan can be at loss for words. “Not even a kiss?”

“Not even a hug,” you clarify, pushing his body away with both hands so he ends up sitting on his heels, only in his boxer. “I’ll allow you to hold my hands but that’s it.”

“But why?” The way he whines the word ‘why’, loud and long, is just so him. “Hugging is like a totally normal thing to do! People hug all the time! Even kids do! It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“It becomes sexual when you keep popping out a boner during one.”

“Screw you.”

“Not today, Haechannie. Not today.”

***

Haechan, no matter how bratty he can act from time-to-time, does keep his promise intact. He hasn’t touched you for like eight hours by now, even when you were taking a shower inside his room and ‘accidentally’ leaving the bathroom door open. You heard him groan, “Seriously? You’re doing this to me now? You’re torturing me, Nooonaaaaa~” once during your shower, but he didn’t act on his desire. You’re actually quite surprised. You know just how much this is driving him crazy.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” you say, already looking all dolled up in the red dress he once bought for you. You know how much he likes it, know how much his eyes ogle your body from top-to-toe, staring at the way the fabric hugs your body perfectly, emphasizing your every curve.

He glares at you menacingly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” You play dumb, though you're sure your grin betrays you. “Come on, I’m starving. I’ll let you hold my hand as we walk, just make sure don't get a hard-on in the meantime.”

“Have I told you I hate you today?”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

The cafe near the dormitory you usually visit to get your daily intake of calories is closed for the day. “Why are they closed?” You ask, adjoining your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Maybe the old man has diarrhea or something.” He shrugs, hands buried deep inside the pocket of his black ripped jeans. The way they tightly hug his legs, combined with those holes, is becoming very distracting for you. “I sure as hell, hope so.”

“Will you let it go already? It was an honest mistake.”

“How on earth is putting wasabi in my cream soup an honest mistake? He totally did that on purpose!”

“Yeah, well, knowing how you just straight-up told him he looked like a walrus, I’m not even surprised he spiked your soup.”

“Now that’s an honest mistake, in which I tried to be honest but came out as a mistake.”

“You didn’t have to tell him he looked like a walrus, though.”

“But he did!” He groaned, stomping his feet on the ground. “He totally did! Look me in the eyes and tell me he didn’t look like a walrus, come on, I dare you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always one for the dramatic. “Should we go somewhere else? How hungry are you right now?”

“For your love?” He smirked, sending you a flirty wink. “Starving.”

You make an exaggerated gesture of you vomiting your insides. “If you’re not that hungry, wanna just go grab some crepes and take a walk in the park?”

“Sure, why not.” His shoulders are relaxed as he yawns unattractively, though it still counts as adorable in your book. “Let’s drop by to that bakery you told me before on the way home. I’m gonna buy you a birthday cake.”

That earns a surprised smile from you. “I didn’t think you’d be this thoughtful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always thoughtful.”

“Is calling a middle-aged man a walrus a form of your thoughtfulness?”

He snorts, tilting his head to the side with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Since when did you get this sassy?” You’re about to put another retort when he suddenly kisses your cheek.

“Hey!” You abruptly step away from him, palming the side of your face. “What did I tell you about my wish again?”

He grins, eyes turning into a cute pair of crescents. “Honest mistake, babe.”

And you poke him in the abs until he drops to his knees, whining, “Whyyyyyyyy?” into the air.

There’s this park near your campus that has nice scenery—unexpectedly picturesque, even—with a huge fountain in the center of it. The green leaves of the camphor trees sway from the morning breeze, intoxicating you with a scent similar to how the pine trees smell after the rain. Children are running around, playing tags, with their parents sitting next to the fountain, busying themselves with their phones while occasionally mutters, “Be careful, don’t run too much!” from time-to-time because apparently, that’s what parents do these days.

Haechan exhales loudly as he takes a seat on the nearest bench, straightening his legs and patting a spot beside him. “Come here. I want to cuddle.”

“There are people around.”

“Since when cuddling becomes a crime?”

“It makes people uncomfortable.”

“You saying no makes me uncomfortable.”

You sigh. There’s no way of winning an argument with him. “Fine, but I’m not sitting on your lap,” you say, ignoring his pout as you take a seat next to him and hand him his chocolate-banana crepes. “Careful, you’re wearing a white shirt,” you warn, offering him his spoon. “It’ll be hard to take the stain off if—”

“I’m not a child,” he grumbles, taking the food roughly off your hand and grimacing when the chocolate syrup drips down to his shirt, staining the fabric. He blinks in surprise with his mouth wide open, before he looks back at you, only to receive a flat stare in return.

“I literally just told you that a second ago.”

Haechan shrugs. “It’s Jaemin’s shirt anyway, so I don’t care.”

With that, you bring your focus back to the food in your hand—a strawberry crepes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream—and takes a bite, almost moaning in delight when the sugary taste hits your tongue. “Man, why did I ever decide to go on a diet? This tastes so gooooood~”

Your smile and small giggle seem to be contagious because Haechan mirrors you almost in the same way though it has nothing to do with the dessert he’s holding. He observes, silently taking notes of the joyful expressions you display on your face while muttering, “How cute,” under his breath. Both of you take a moment to enjoy your so-called breakfast, sometimes taking a sip of your hot coffee to balance the sweet.

“You know,” Haechan says as he gnaws at his dessert again. “This isn’t really how I expected to go when I said I’d grant your wishes.”

“Yeah?” You decide to humor him, though you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you expect me to wish for something else?”

He nods, licking chocolate syrup off his spoon. “Something about you sitting on my face.”

You choke on a piece of strawberry you just plopped into your mouth, and you can feel it blocking your airways. “What are you—” Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes, as you begin to cough fervently.

“What are you, a kid?” Haechan pulls your hair away from your face, patting your back. “There, there.”

“Why on earth would I ask about that?!” You shout when you can properly breathe again.

“I don’t know, I just thought that maybe you wanted me to eat you out.” The way he shrugs so nonchalantly as if he’s simply talking about finding a typo in the papers he just submitted leaves you dumbfounded. “I mean, I kept teasing you about it during sex but never really did it since you were always too stubborn to beg.”

“And do you realize now how annoying you are in bed?”

“That’s not my intention, though!” He genuinely seems a bit guilty. “You just look so cute trying to hold back when it’s obvious you want my tongue inside you—”

“We’re in public, Jesus Christ—”

“It’s your pride that we have a problem with. Why can’t you just for once say, with teary eyes, ‘Haechannie, please, fuck me with your tongue’—”

“People can hear—stop it!” You try to clamp your palm around his mouth, but he dodges it perfectly and places a playful kiss on the back of your hand instead. “And are you seriously begging me to beg you for it? I don’t think that’s how it works, Hyuck.”

“It’s because I actually really want to eat you out,” he groans, sighing into the air, “But I also want to see that cute embarrassed look on your face—do you see how big of a problem this is for me?” His whine falls short when he notices the look on your face. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” But you know you are, you’ve never been so ashamed before. How can you not? Your boyfriend is now a) talking about eating you out, loudly, in public, b) there’s this one passerby, a middle-aged woman who dresses in way too many layers for a day as hot as this, looking at you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen displayed on a person’s face, and c) Haechan is still talking about it. “Shut up and just get away from me!”

“Noona, your face is so red!” He’s giggling to himself now, his crepes dribbling more chocolate syrup onto his shirt from how much he’s moving. “Did I get you excited? Does this mean you’re gonna—”

“Next wish! I’ve already thought about my next wish!” You quickly avert his attention, desperately pushing his face with one hand so he’ll stop making kissy faces at you. “I want you to perform a song.”

“What, here?”

“Yeah, you don’t have a problem singing in front of people, right?”

“Of course not,” he snorts loudly. “I have an amazing voice. You know, people should really be paying me to hear me sing, actually.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, though deep down in your heart, you kind of admit that he really does have an amazing voice. His vocal is unique and distinct, easily noticeable even if there are a hundred vocalists in the room. And the way he does his adlibs whenever he sings his favorite tunes actually makes the song sounds a thousand times better. There’s no way you’re going to tell that to his face, though. His ego is already big enough without you feeding him compliments.

“Well then, you’re in luck.” You grin mischievously, nodding your head toward a band that’s been playing acoustic songs near the fountain for quite some time. There are three people playing instruments, with one of them being the vocalist and you comment inwardly in your head that Haechan sounds so much better than him—but maybe you’re just biased. The band is promoting their demo album, trying to get people’s attention to recognize their self-composed songs and buy their album if they fit their taste. No crowds are gathering in front of them, and you feel kind of sorry because they actually sound pretty good. “If you follow my wish and do it right, you could probably get some tips along the way.”

“You want me to sing with the band? I don’t think they’ll allow me though.”

“They will. I’ll buy their album in exchange.”

Haechan doesn’t seem eager at the slightest. “Must we waste our money away?”

“What, are you scared?” You taunt, raising one of your eyebrows challengingly because you know how much he hates to lose. And it works as expected, because Haechan is now standing up, throwing the rest of his crepes away to the nearest trash bin, and cracks his knuckles.

“Lee Haechan never runs away from a challenge.” He has this annoying cocky grin displayed on his face. “Tell me what song you want me to sing.”

“Your favorite. Man in The Mirror.”

“Dude, I nailed that song. Is this even a challenge?” He clicks his tongue, cocking his head. “So easy.”

He already has taken a few steps away, heading toward the band, when you stop him dead on his tracks by saying, “I know you nailed it. That’s why we have to keep it interesting so here’s my wish: I want you to sing out of tune.”

Even if you said that he was turning on his heels at the speed of light, it wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration. “NO FUCKING WAY.”

“Ah, but sadly,” you fake a pout, mocking him, “You promised you’d grant my wish.”

“But that’s just stupid! Why would I do something like that? Why would anyone do something like that?” He shakes his head furiously. “And doing this to my favorite singer?! Hell no!”

“Haechannie.”

“No.”

“Haechannie.”

“NO.”

You sigh, walking closer to him and pull him down by the hand to close the gap between your heights and murmur in his ear. “If you do that,” you breathe out, trying your best to sound as sexy as you can, “I might consider buying that customized dildo you want this weekend.”

Haechan has his jaw hanging low on his face, looking at you with his wide eyes shaking in disbelief. “Oh my God,” he whines, placing both hands on your shoulders before rocking you back and forth. “Noonaaaaa~ This is soooo not fair. You can’t do this to me!”

You chuckle at how childish he is. “So, how is it going to be, Lee Donghyuck-sshi?”

He contemplates hard about it—really hard, probably the hardest thinking he ever did in his entire life—nibbling on his lower lip as he does it. After a moment has passed, he finally ends it with his signature pout. “But you promise, right? No pranking me this time?”

“I promise,” you say with a firm nod but you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

“Fine,” he says as if it was the heaviest decision he has ever made. “Then, I’ll sing… off-key—eww!” He sticks out his tongue, clutching his arms around his stomach. “I’m about to throw up my crepes just by thinking about it.”

“Good luck.” You pat his shoulder. “Oh, and make sure you sing the first part like you always do, so people will notice and start listening to how amazing your voice is. And when they’re so into it, as you get to the second chorus, that’s when you start singing off-key.”

Haechan’s eyes are lifeless when they bore into you. “Isn’t it time for you to go back to hell, Satan?”

“Remember, Haechannie,” you press a finger to your lips, winking at him. “Customized. Dildo.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too.”

So both of you get into the business. After the band performed an acoustic version of their titled song, you approach them with a smile, offering your hand to the vocalist. You tell them how talented they are, making sure to bedazzle them with compliments and your charming attitudes so things can go as planned. It’s actually not that hard trying to convince them to accompany your boyfriend sing, especially when you say you’re going to buy two of their demo albums.

“What song do you want to sing, dude?” The vocalist, a friendly man most likely in his twenties with a goatee on his face, asks Haechan while offering a fist bump. Your boyfriend grimaces, bumping his fist against him like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever done.

“Something wrong?” The man asks. “You look kinda pale, man.”

“He just ate something bad during breakfast earlier,” you come to answer him instead, rubbing Haechan’s back soothingly. “But he’s fine now. Can you guys play Man in The Mirror?”

“Michael Jackson, right? Sure thing.”

You elbow your boyfriend playfully on the side of his stomach. “Sure thing, he said.”

“I want to die.”

“Aaw, poor baby,” you pucker your lips, having the best time of your life making fun of him. “Now off you go, I’ll be right here.” And you bring your iPhone in the air, camera-ready with a tap of your thumb. Haechan has his eyes on the standing microphone, looking at it like it’s the most horrifying thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.

Haechan just barely takes a step forward before he runs back to your spot again, all jumpy and twitchy. “I can’t—I can’t do this—this is so embarrassing—”

“On three, okay, man?” The vocalist takes a seat on one of the little stools they have placed next to the amplifiers with his Fender guitar placed firmly on his lap. And before Haechan can give him a nod or any sign in return, he begins counting and the entire band plays the song. There’s no way out of this now.

Haechan finally walks toward the mic with his soul most likely leaving his body with every step he takes.

You give him a cheer as loud as you can—not to support him, but so you can gather people’s attention. Haechan shushes you down in panic before he finally takes the mic, constantly throwing ice daggers at you with his eyes. You begin to chant his name—“Lee Donghyuck! Lee Donghyuck!”—and with every shout of it, Haechan dies a little bit more.

Haechan falls two beats behind before he finally sings into the microphone, his voice resonating through the air. He does sound amazing, albeit a little nervous and that’s probably just because he’s doing the dare. He usually sounds confident, his voice sounding strong and clear not caring if the room is empty or filled with people so this anxious version of him really makes you think that maybe you’ve forced him a little bit too far.

He completes the first part of the song rather easily and the entire band behind him nod their heads along to the music, amazement sparkling in their eyes. You can see the vocalist quietly mouths, “Damn, he’s good,” to the member sitting beside him who shortly agrees wholeheartedly. You can’t help but smile at that, looking like a proud mom.

People, one-by-one, begin to gather around you, whispering to one another, asking, “Who is he? What band is this?” or simply praising his vocal and your smile grows wider. It vanishes almost instantly, though, the second you hear some girls chattering behind your back, talking about how attractive Haechan looks—especially in that leather jacket and those dark combat boots he’s wearing. You never pegged yourself to be a jealous, overprotective girlfriend before but with Haechan, perhaps you’re beginning to turn exactly into that.

Haechan, who seems pretty pleased with how he sang the first part, suddenly begins to fidget on his feet. The more he gets closer to the second chorus, the paler he becomes and he has his eyes tightly shut when he’s finally there, singing the first two lines in the right way before forcing himself to sing off-key.

You blurt out laughing but immediately clasp a hand over your mouth. Haechan looks like he’s in pain, and the rest of the band has their eyebrows furrowed in question, looking back and forth at each other, probably asking, what the hell is wrong with this dude, he was doing so good before. The audience begins to look at one another, eyebrows knitting in concern. New visitors stop in their tracks, looking at your boyfriend with judging looks on their faces. Even the parents that were so busy with their phones before begin to lift their heads from the screen, trying to know who is this terrible singer and why is he wailing like this.

Haechan sounds so awful and you can only imagine how much this is killing him from the inside. He barely gets to the end of the second chorus before he turns to face the band, bowing his head and shouting, “I’m so sorry!” before he scrambles on his feet, running toward you.

“Wait, Hyuck, you haven’t finished—” Your protest ends in laughter when Haechan rashly hooks an arm around your shoulder, breaking through the crowd and forcing you to match his steps so you can leave the park for good.

He’s never stepping into this place ever again, you’re sure of it.

***

On the way back to the dorm, you stop by the bakery you’ve been wanting to visit and Haechan buys you a birthday cake as promised but with a permanent pout displayed on his place.

“A cake for your girlfriend?” The cashier lady asks with a friendly smile.

Haechan simply pouts harder, muttering, “Yes, my super annoying girlfriend.” And you pop out from behind his back, raising a hand in the air as you beam at her with a cheeky grin, “Yep, that’s me!”

Haechan walks next to you on the sidewalk as if he just did the longest marathon he ever did in his life—all drained out and slow on his steps. His shoulders are hunched forward, his eyes droopy and every time you take a peek and share a glance at him, he’ll start fuming again—like an angry child, upset for being left alone in his grandma’s house while the whole family went on a trip.

“Okay, knowing how fast you’re walking right now,” you mutter sarcastically, looking at the nonexistent watch you wear around your wrist for dramatic effects, “We’ll be back in our dorm at approximately eighty-four years from now.”

“Whatever. I’m still angry at you.”

“But we just started! I thought you wanted to make me happy.” You try to look as sad as possible, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s my birthday, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware that making you happy equals giving me emotional distress.” After two seconds passed by in silence, he adds, “And physical pain.”

You smile at the attitude he’s giving, wondering just how cute can this man be by the end of the day. Maybe you should keep torturing him a little.

Just a little bit more.

“Haechannie,” you roll his name off your tongue in a playful manner, wrapping both arms around his right one. “I’m ready for my next wish.”

“Didn’t you listen to any word I just said?”

“See that old lady over there?”

“Yeah, you clearly didn’t.” Haechan follows your gaze with a heavy sigh, not quite pleased with how easily you ignore his complaints, and he sees a grey-haired woman, old enough to be his grandmother, sitting alone on a bench with a book on her hands and her glasses hanging dangerously low on the bridge of her nose. Her cane lays still on her side, and by the look of it, she appears to be waiting for someone.

“Oh come on, leave her alone,” Haechan says, already looking sorry for her even when you haven’t said anything yet. “She’s so old and she looks so frail. I am not going to do your stupid dare at the cost of her life.”

You roll your eyes.“Relax, I won’t ask something that stupid.”

“Oh, because your first wish was just so brilliant, I suppose?”

“I’m serious, I’m not that mean.” Not to her, at least. “I just want you to sit next to her on the bench and act like it’s the worst day of your life.”

“I won’t be calling that acting,” he grumbles. “I am having the worst day of my life.”

“What? I thought we’re having fun!” You try so hard to look sympathetic enough for him but it’s almost an impossible deed to do when you’re seconds away from laughing.

“You’re having fun.” He squints his eyes menacingly. “I’m having a fucking seizure.”

“You’re fine, don’t be too dramatic.” You card your fingers through his hair, pushing back the bangs from his eyes to showcase his temple exactly the way you like it. “Well, I want you to act sad—like, really sad, bawling your eyes out and everything—and when she asks you why, explain that you just found out you’re adopted.” You press something against his palm. “Here.”

Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes a look at it. “What’s this?”

“A postcard with a picture of your parents. I just bought it at the minimart before when you were in the bakery.”

“But…” He stares in horror. “They’re Americans.”

“Exactly.” You know there’s a shit-eating grin blooming on your face but you cannot wipe it off. “You can walk away after she tries to comfort you or give you some advice or something.”

Haechan keeps scowling at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, but you charm him with your brightest smile until he sighs and tucks the postcard in the back pocket of his jeans. “You know I’ll pay you back for this later, right?”

“Wha—I thought you said you’ll grant me any wishes for free!”

“MAN, IF I COULD JUST TURN BACK TIME—“ He yanks out his hair, making you a bit worried because you love his soft, adorable brown locks and he’s been tugging at them for quite some time today. “Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I no longer have any shame left in my body anyway. Or soul, for that matter.” He turns on his heels, straightening his jacket as if that could give him more courage. “You better not blink your eyes.”

“It’s okay even if I do.” You bring out your phone, waving it in the air. “’Cause I’m recording it. This will go viral on Youtube.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

It takes a good ten minutes for Haechan to prepare himself for the stupid dare he’s about to do, even though he previously claimed he had no shame whatsoever. He paces back-and-forth at the sidewalk, stomping his feet once or twice restlessly, and mutters quietly to himself, “Man up. Man up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid dare.” You desperately want to have a miniature size of this Haechan and keeps him inside your pocket so you can watch him being nervously cute all day long with his cheeks puffed in anger.

“Okay, I’m going.” And he finally steps forward, braver this time, and sits down on the other end of the bench, twiddling his fingers in anxiety. You bite your lip to contain your laughter and press record.

Almost fifteen seconds have passed by and there’s no reaction, not even a glance, coming from the old lady. You can see Haechan nibbling persistently on his lip, his feet tapping worriedly on the ground before he finally lets out the loudest, heaviest sigh in the history of mankind. It’s so loud that it makes the old lady jumps on her seat, her hands going to her chest, her book left abandoned on her lap. Haechan also looks surprised knowing that she’s surprised and everything just looks so hilarious that your camera begins to shake from how hard you try not to laugh.

“I-is there something wrong, my dear?” The old lady asks, shifting her body a little on her seat so she can face him properly.

Haechan takes a deep breath and begins his act by burying his face in his hands, faking a sob. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I just—” He sniffles loudly, trying to make it obvious to her that he’s in agony. “It’s the worst day of my life.”

And it’s cheesy, how he acts, but she seems to buy it—or maybe she’s just too kind. “May I ask what happened? I’m not sure I can help but…” She lands her shaky hand on his back, caressing him soothingly. “It’s always better to pour your feelings out instead of bottling them inside.”

She sounds so genuinely compassionate, unlike the maniacal laughter that currently tumbles down your lips.

Haechan lifts his head, turning towards her. His eyes begin to droop, making him look like a kicked puppy. “I just found out…” He sniffs for dramatic effects. “That… That I’m adopted!” And he loudly whimpers into his hands again.

The old lady gasps, covering her parted lips with her thin fingers. “Oh my… Did your parents tell you that?”

“No, it’s even worse. I found out on my own when they were talking in their room.” Haechan rummages his back pocket, handing her the postcard. “Here, look. It’s a picture of my parents.”

The lady takes the postcard with a pair of heartbroken eyes but they soon begin to change when she notices that the two people in the picture are straight-up Americans, while Haechan, needless to say at this point, looks like the most common—though far more handsome—Korean boy you can encounter on daily basis.

“I know,” Haechan says, wiping a nonexistent tear out of his eyes and fakes another sob. “Surprising, isn’t it? I mean, we look so much alike, there’s no way I would’ve guessed I was adopted if I didn’t hear them talking about it behind my back.”

The old lady is still pretty much dumbstruck with how bizarrely stupid everything is, but she’s too kind to call him out on it. She hands the postcard back to him, looking much less sorry this time, and takes a moment of silence. Haechan cries against his palms again, and you wonder if he’s only faking it or being real about it this time because the entire situation is just painfully awkward.

“You see, my dear,” she begins, voice gentle and reassuring but the sincerity isn’t really the same as before. “Sometimes it really can feel like the world is ending, and I know that this must be hard for you,” she stops to knit her eyebrows, “no matter how obvious this should’ve appeared to you. But maybe it’s not about having a picture-perfect family, but about finding beautiful moments.”

“You’re right,” Haechan hurriedly agrees, his eyes twinkling in delight knowing that this excruciating dare is about to end. “I’m happy with them being my family, even if they’re not, you know, really my parents.”

She smiles but it kind of looks like a grimace, and she says her next words with a gentle pat on his back. “But shouldn’t you have noticed about it sooner, though, dear? You look nothing like them.”

And Haechan winces, not sure how to react. “I could be, uhh…” He licks his lips nervously. “Quite dumb, sometimes.”

“Yes,” she nods, still patting his back. “You certainly can.”

A tall man, at least ten years older than Haechan, approaches their spot with a paper bag in his arms. “Mom, are you ready to—” he stops to take a look at your boyfriend, trying to understand the situation of why is his mother sitting way too close to a guy dressed flirtatiously in a leather jacket and boots with her hand caressing his back. “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m adopted,” Haechan says, handing him the same stupid picture. “She’s just consoling me about it.”

He takes a look and sends him his biggest judging look. “Dude, what are you, stupid?”

***

Haechan is still fuming all the way back to his dorm and no matter how much you apologize about it, he still doesn’t want to talk to you. He throws himself on his bed with his shoes still on the second he enters his room. You’re still smiling quietly to yourself, can barely handle all the cuteness he’s emitting.

“Haechannie,” you gently call, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Are you still upset?”

No answer.

“Look, I said, I’m sorry. Talk to me, please?”

Haechan has his face pressed flat against his comforter and you secretly wonder whether he can even breathe in that position. A few seconds passed by in silence before Haechan finally mumbles, “Did it make you happy?”

“What, you doing my stupid dares?” You can already feel another laughter bubbling up your throat but you have to contain it. You can’t hurt him more than this. “Yes and I know I’ve been mean to you and I’m sorry for that, but you were so cute.” You run a hand along his spine before you carefully caress his hair as a mother would do to a child. “Please don’t be mad.”

He eventually sits up, crossing his legs on the bed, sniffling a little bit while still avoiding eye contact. “Well, I guess, as long as you’re happy.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” he states, practically puffing out his cheeks by now. “I’m just so embarrassed with all of this. Why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come here.” You motion him to come closer, and you know it’s breaking the rules of your first wish but you don’t care. This giant teddy bear desperately needs a hug.

Haechan immediately sighs when you stand with your knees pressed on the bed, wrapping both arms around his head. He sinks his face to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I hate you,” with his breath fanning your skin.

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

“Yeah, because you’re mean.”

“But I love you even more today,” you softly reply, pulling away a little so you can trace your fingers along the smoothness of his cheek. “You’re so adorable, Hyuck, do you know that?”

“Is singing out of tune and harassing old lady your kink or something?”

“That’s not it.” You pinch the bridge of his nose, making him yelp a little. “It’s just the way you forced yourself to do these things—these things you hate the most—for me and asking me whether they made me happy or not, while still being all grumpy about it. You’re just so cute and I love you for that.”

The sun is setting outside his window, illuminating his face with such a warm, beautiful glow that somehow makes him appear a bit more melancholic and angelic at the same time. He finally drags his eyes back on yours, with his bottom lip still jutting out slightly. He says the next four words so quietly under his breath that you can barely hear them. “What?”

“I said, I love you too,” he repeats in a rush, before he sinks his face in the slope of your neck again, whining all the way. “Don’t make me say it like this, it’s weird.”

And you notice that this is actually the first time he truly confesses his love for you. He’s joked about it a lot, toying with your feelings at least ten times within a day, casually throwing the word love as if it meant nothing more than mere decoration for his flirtatious lines. But now that he’s saying it in all the seriousness he can muster, he can barely look you in the eyes, can barely say it without whispering, and it’s cute how the usually confident Lee Haechan, crumbles into nothing but a shy little boy facing his feelings for the first time.

“Ah seriously,” he murmurs against your hair. “What are you doing to me? I’m not usually like this.”

You can’t help but tease him. “Yes, you’re usually more satanic.”

“Yah—”

And you stop him with a soft kiss to his lips. You can feel him taking a sharp breath, his arms stiffening as they circle your waist. You’re about to kiss him again when you feel him tensing against your body. Noticing how he looks a bit baffled, you carefully tug yourself away. “What is it?”

“I thought you said we couldn’t kiss today,” he tells in such a small voice.

“I said no sexual activities,” you retort with a sly smirk, making a poor excuse because you really miss kissing him. “This isn’t sexual,” you say, pressing your lips against his again but stop before he can return it. “This is romantic.”

He’s so distracted with your lips that he can barely take his eyes off them even when he talks. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You can’t help but grin but it does not stay long when Haechan suddenly hooks his arm around your hip and pulls you closer until you’re forced to climb into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist for balance.

“Haechan—” Your protest is swallowed by his kiss, his lips chasing after yours almost frantically. You can tell how much he misses you from the way his lips move against yours, or from the way he moans softly at the back of his throat as he settles his hand on the side of your face. His other hand holds you tighter by the waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of your dress. He angles your head to the side, kissing you with parted lips and swiping his tongue along your lower one so you’ll gain him entrance.

“Noona,” he whispers between quick breaths, sounding almost needy. “Noona, I need—”

“Okay, stop.” You place your arms on his shoulders, expanding the space between you. You can’t believe you almost got carried away. “Now this is getting sexual. Let’s head over to my next wish.”

“Wait—but I’m—” He stares at you bewilderedly, not believing the fact that you just casually drag your body away from his lap, smoothen down your hair as if nothing just happened. “Are you serious? You’re playing with me again? When I’m like this?”

“Sorry.” You peck him on the cheek, hiding your grin. “So, for my next wish—”

“Yah! Listen to what I’m saying—”

“I want you to—”

“Noonaaaaaaaa~”

“—sing me a lullaby.” His whining stops abruptly at your words and you quickly explain further before he does it again, “I’m sleepy so I’m gonna take a nap. Your job is to sing me a lullaby until I fall asleep. Easy, right?”

“You really just do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Only for today. You, on the other hand, do that every day.”

“Fair enough. Do I get to choose the song?”

“Sure.” Knocking your high heels off your feet, you lie down on his bed with a thump, contentedly basking in his scent because his pillows, the duvet underneath you, the soft sheet below your fingertips—everything smells pleasantly like him. Haechan takes off his shoes and his leather jacket—which almost earns a loud protest from you because he looks so good with that jacket on—throwing them somewhere near the bed without care and he lies down by your side, facing you.

You turn your body to face him as well. “Hey, handsome.” You smile sheepishly at him.

He seems a bit caught off guard by it, but smiles back. “Hi.”

“Can we cuddle?”

He laughs softly at that. “Come here.” He gathers your entire figure easily in his arms and you sink your nose to his chest, humming in pleasure. “Stop being so cute, you’re torturing me.” You only giggle in response.

Haechan begins to sing, slowly at first as if he suddenly feels pressured with the way the room is so deep in silence, leaving no excuse for him to make in case he fails. You notice that, so you sneak both of your arms around his waist, snuggling even closer. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

“I’m not. Why would I be?” He masks his slightly shaky voice with a chuckle. “It’s just that your hair keeps getting into my mouth whenever I try to sing.”

“Of course.” And you keep your lips tightly shut, giving him the time he needs.

Haechan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Had a perfect picture in my head, with you in the most beautiful dress,” he sings, beautiful notes flowing down from his lips, making you feel like everything around you becomes a blur and there’s only him with his velvety voice and his soft, warm breathing. “I look happy as ever, how did I let you go again.”

He gains confidence with more seconds passing by and you can feel his arms growing slack around your waist, no longer as tense. “Now I'm standing alone in the rain, like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time, but I know this time it's real.”

You’re not sure whether it’s because of the lyrics or the way he sings, but as beautiful as his honeyed voice sounds, you can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness growing inside you. It’s as if he’s not singing the song, he’s living through it. And you wonder maybe he’s had his heart broken by someone before—or maybe he’s just so good at putting emotions to his song, you’re still not sure yet.

“Hate that I'm singing this song. Hate that I have to be strong.” Haechan absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down your spine, before he tangles them around the strands of your hair, gently stroking them. “Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else. Hate everything. Just hate everything right now.”

It’s so genuine and soft the way he serenades you, baring his soul and you’re not even looking at his eyes as he sings it. By the end of it, you can’t help but ask him a question. “Will you be singing that song if you ever break up with me?”

He curls up closer, burying the tip of his nose in your hair. “No,” he says but continues before your disappointment can sink in, “If we ever break up, I won’t be doing anything besides getting you back. I don’t like to lose, you know how I am. And I definitely don’t want to lose something—or rather, someone—this important to me.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you chime in, pulling away a little so you can take a look at his face. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers.”

But Haechan doesn’t smile or act cocky about it. He just takes his time analyzing your face, taking in your features as he trails his fingers down from your hair, to your cheek, and finally stopping at the curve of your lips. “I was so worried before though when you met your ex behind my back. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just…” He loses his words when you begin to kiss his fingertips, his eyes becoming unfocused. “I don’t know, I just got anxious about it. I’ve never had someone like you before so…”

It really just sinks in that he wasn’t merely angry because you were seeing your ex-boyfriend again, he was just afraid. He was terrified of losing you but didn’t know how to react properly. He keeps on telling that you belong to him, that he owns you and everything but he doesn’t intend to dominate you. It’s just a way for him to convince himself that you’re still with him, and not in someone else’s arms.

You can feel your lips curving up into a smile. He’s just a clueless boy, probably still as inexperienced as you are when it comes to love.

You’re sinking more into his arms, sighing as he rakes his fingers down your spine. When silence starts to hang in the air, tension growing thick, Haechan spares you a glance. “Noona?”

You’re not sure what it is inside you that drives you wild but when you’re awake from your reverie, your lips are on his again, melting against his heat, and desperately asking him to deepen the kiss.

The way he inadvertently moans against your lips indicates that your kiss catches him off guard but he soon finds back his pace. He crawls on top of you, pressing your body closer, chest meeting chest, and murmurs your name with his silvery voice against your ear, successfully sending goosebumps to every inch of your body.

“Forget my first wish.” You can barely recognize your own voice from how husky it has become. He has his lips tracing your jawline, about to map his way down but you keep him still, not wanting to erase the warmth of his lips on yours just yet. “It’s a stupid wish anyway. I don’t know why I even asked that.”

Haechan forms a space between you, just to take another look at your face. His eyes are hooded, gleaming with desire. “Well then,” he rubs his thumb along your lower lip, while his tongue traces his own. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes.” It sounds more like a plead than affirmation, strongly painted with urgency. “Come here.”

Haechan’s lips are warmer than how they usually felt but you can’t be certain. It’s been a while since you last shared an intimate moment with him and you just now realized that it really isn’t just him who desperately seeks attention. You crave his touch way more than he does for yours.

But maybe that’s not true after all, because Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed as he kisses you passionately, his lips keep searching for yours whenever you try to pull away to catch a breath. The way he sinks his fingers along your hips, how determined he is in keeping you close to the point you can start counting on his eyelashes—everything that he does screams his emotions vividly. How much he longs for you. How much he misses the taste of your breath on his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, your fingers pressed against his jaw. “Please…”

Haechan blinks, a bit startled and perhaps a tad confused as well, considering you stopped him from going too far earlier. But he doesn’t complain and takes every chance he can get, if it means he can be closer to you. It’s so soft, the way he kisses you now, as if he’s having his first kiss, not sure if he’s doing it right but you don’t mind. It’s rare, being kissed by him like this, and somehow it makes your skin tingle as if merely just a touch of his lips is sending electricity to your entire body.

“I love you,” you whisper as you share his breath. “I really do love you, Hyuck.”

The way he halts his action for a good two seconds, probably letting your words sink into his head, makes your own heart skip a beat or two. And you’re worried if you say too much, or if you’ve become too needy and it annoys him, but when you sneak a glance at him, you notice how his cheeks are tainted with red before he leans closer, roughly murmuring, “Just kiss me again,” against your lips.

But the way he’s holding your body makes you feel way more loved than the words he said earlier. And he’s taking his time, just gently moves his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in only slightly to steal a taste. But you sigh against his mouth either way because it’s not only his kiss that weakens you, it’s his entire presence—the way his warmth seeps through the fabric of your dress, the way he’s holding back a moan when you unconsciously tug his locks a little bit too hard, or the way he just naturally smells so sweet, almost honey-like, numbing your other senses at once.

“Noona,” he breathes heavily, tilting his head to the side so you’ll have better access to running your lips against the skin of his neck. “I want… I need…” he trails off, too busy looking at the way you’re slipping your fingers underneath his shirt, tracing his hot feverish skin with your cold digits. “I really need you now.”

“Then keep touching me,” you mumble against his jaw, searching for his lips again. “I want to feel you too. Come closer.” But even if your words speak a sense of urgency, your fingers still feel as light as a feather on his skin and he seems to notice that, because he’s keeping up the same pace, not suddenly rushing to tear your clothes apart like how he usually does.

He chants your name over and over again, almost like a prayer, his desire running thick in his veins. As he moves down, his fingers find their way to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, and he takes his time to kiss every inch of your body that’s revealed to him one by one.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do this to you,” he confesses, his nose skimming along the skin of your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You arch your back, desperately needing to close the space between you. “I’ve missed you too.”

And you’re half-expecting him to put on a smirk and asks, “Yeah? How much, exactly?” But this time, he doesn’t. His lips are busy marking your skin, sucking gently at the spot that makes you curl your toes. He brings his eyes back to yours again when your lips moan out his name.

“Don’t do that,” he says, looking like he’s gradually losing control of himself. “You know how that drives me crazy.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I love it, but—” He suddenly presses his lips hard against yours, as if there’s another person inside him that’s been screaming at him to latch his lips with yours before he wastes more second talking nonsense. And you try to reciprocate the movement of his lips with the same speed but he doesn’t give you much room to improvise. He knows what he’s doing, all you need to do is just relax and blend into the kiss. He already makes everything so easy for you. The problem is, he makes you feel like something is pressing against your chest and your stomach is doing crazy flips over and over again.

He finally stops again when you gasp his name.

“Ah, no, seriously.” It’s like he’s fighting a battle within himself, pulling away from you and shaking his head. “I want to take it slow today, Noona, but you moaning my name like that is not making it easy for me so please, just don’t—” He exhales, pressing his temple against yours with his eyes closed. “Don’t torture me like that.”

It’s cute how he tries to hold back, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I’m fine with the way you usually hold me, though.” It’s tempting, and he’s pretty much dazed with the sultry smirk you have on your face, but he shakes his head again, snapping him back from his own thoughts.

“No, it’s your birthday,” he says, eyes switching back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he tries to enunciate his reason. “I want to make it special.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “So you’re saying that all the sex we did before today wasn’t special to you?”

He gapes. “No, that’s not—”

“Just kidding.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Okay, then, do your thing.” You sit up straight so you can undress properly and his eyes are instantly glued to your chest when your bra slips down your shoulders. You don’t really intend to make it sexy, but the way his eyes grow wide when you say “I’m all yours,” and lies down on his bed again in nothing but your laced underwear seems to indicate that that’s exactly how you look in his mind.

He mutters an almost inaudible fuck under his breath before he snaps himself out of his reverie again. He stands with his knees pressed on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before he hovers back on top of you, peppering wet kisses from your ear to your neck before he ends it with his tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts.

He stops to reach for his drawer, searching for a condom while you struggle to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. You’re finished a few seconds sooner and already have your back pressed against the sheet again when he crawls on top of you with a packet of condom between his teeth.

“No, wait.” You catch him by his arm as he’s about to tear the package with his teeth. “I’m on the pill today too so you can do it without.”

“Well, fuck,” he exhales, latching his lips back to yours again. “Why are you being so nice to me today?”

“You literally just complained about me being mean to you a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now that I get to come inside you again, I’m taking all my words back.” He gives playful kisses on your nose and cheeks before he licks around your face like how a cute little puppy would.

“Stop it, you’re gross!” But your airy laughter soon begins to vanish, only to be replaced with a sense of uncertainty. You begin to feel nervous when he hooks his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulling it down your legs, baring yourself completely for his eyes. He’s seen you naked countless times and you never really felt this nervous before so it must be because—

“You seem to be thinking about something,” he interrupts, parting your legs so he can slide in between them. “Something wrong?”

“Umm—I—“ It’s not the way you stutter that betrays you; it’s the prominent blush that stains your cheeks. But you have to do this. You have to say this. Not just for your sake, but his too. “Haechannie..?”

“Yeah, Noona?”

“For my next wish…” You wet your lip anxiously, swallowing your breath, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “C-can you eat me out, please…?”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so startled by your action—or by anything, really—to the point that he has to remind himself to blink. “What?”

You groan, hastily grabbing a pillow nearby and use it to cover your face. “Don’t make me say it again, you idiot!” You expect him to laugh, or worse, mock you about it but instead, he snatches the pillow away, throwing it to the side, and wraps his fingers around your wrists, holding you in place.

“Noona, please,” he pleads, his cheeks turning scarlet, mirroring yours. “Please say it again. I want to see you when you say it.”

It’s actually borderline hilarious the way he’s so serious about it, and perhaps it’s really his biggest turn on—one that he hasn’t seen coming from you after all this time—so you decide to swallow your pride and indulge him further.

You repeat your words and watch as his eyes widened again for a split second before they turn gentle, looking so happy that you finally get to answer his wish. “About damn time,” he whispers against your lips, his husky voice reverberating nicely to your ears as he tastes every bit of your mouth with his tongue. He wastes no more time, heading south while placing more wet kisses down your body.

His lips are hovering above your heat, and you can really feel his breath down there. You have your eyes closed in anticipation but Haechan suddenly says, “You know what, let’s do it this way.”

He leaves you hanging and you’re about to be swallowed by shame but he suddenly lies down on the bed, his head almost touching the headboard, and motions you to come closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says and you almost choke on your saliva. “Come here, Noona. Please.”

And it stresses you out so much because you’ve never done this before—never even thought about it even—and you figured you just had to lay there and let him do whatever he wants with you. Crawling over to sit on his face is clearly not what you had in mind.

“Come on,” he lightly sneers when he sees how nervous you are. “I won’t bite.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, feeling a little bit lightheaded from how embarrassed you are, but when he offers a hand, you take it and follow his lead.

You have your legs on each side of his head and he’s holding you by your hips, guiding you to lower yourself down to him. “Stop being so tense,” he chuckles and you flinch because he’s so dangerously close. “It’s not like I’ve never seen you up-close before.”

“It’s different—” You gasp when he swipes his tongue against your folds, just once, before he asks, “Different how?”

You’re too occupied with sorting out your feelings and all these sensations that coming into your head at once. “I don’t know, it’s weird—” You almost whine when you feel him moving his tongue again.

“Your thighs are shaking, Noona,” he chuckles, and you clench your teeth, trying to be less conscious of how his hot breath hitting your sensitive spot.

“Please, s-stop talking.”

“I’m trying to make this casual,” he says, his voice sounding less clear as it hits your skin. “If I stop talking, you’re gonna start thinking about things again.”

“I’m not—Haechannie—” You bring your fingers to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning too loud. He’s giving tentative licks around your clit, moving agonizingly slow and you fumble with your hands, not knowing where to place them. Everything feels both terrifyingly good and painfully awkward and you’re trapped between wanting to continue and stop at the same time.

“Here,” Haechan offers, taking one of your hands and guides it down until it finds home in his hair. “Or you can lay your hands against the headboard. But I prefer you do it this way so I’ll know if you’re feeling,” he stops to licks a stripe up your folds, making you shiver, “good, or,” this time, he stops to suck hard on your clit, startling you with the amount of pleasure jolting through your veins that your body begins to tremble. “Extremely good,” he finishes, moving to the side so he can place a kiss on your thigh, letting you feel his teasing smile on your skin.

Your breathing tatters as he continues with his ministrations, now adding one of his fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. Your head hangs low, and you’re not able to tear your eyes away from his face. Seeing him between your thighs, with his eyes closed as if he’s enjoying every second of it, is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“You seem to be much more relaxed now,” Haechan leans back to show you his godforsaken smirk, “Good girl. Are you starting to regret the fact we didn’t do this sooner?”

And you want to be upset about it—about how he’s still teasing you even during this moment—but the way his breath keeps fanning against your sensitive skin makes you weak. “Please just…” You’re about to sob because it’s too damn embarrassing to be put in this situation. “Stop teasing me, Hyuck…”

Haechan blinks at your expression, his gaze immediately softens. “I’m sorry,” he says, kissing you gently on the inner part of your thigh again. “You’re just so damn cute, I can’t help but tease. Forgive me?”

And you just answer with a small nod because that’s all you can offer before his lips are pressed against your entrance again, tongue slipping inside to know how you really taste.

“Wait—” You begin to panic from how good and weird it feels. “L-let’s stop for a sec—It’s too much—” The shame, the sensation, the pleasure—they’re all hitting you hard at once and you’re too nervous to function properly.

Haechan sneaks a glance at your face, taking in the way it contorts into several emotions at once. “Baby,” he calls out softly, which sends shivers down to your core. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

You notice how he’s imitating your words from earlier and that gives you the chance to think about something else. “But… What about you..?” You ask, making eye contact with him and gulping when he raises his eyebrow in question. “I mean, I can’t please you like this.”

“Oh…” He leans his head down to the bed, giving you the space you want but not exactly what you need. “Then… Wanna do it at the same time?”

You nibble at your bottom lip, slowly nodding your head and his eyes gleam excitedly in response.

“Ah, you’re the best, seriously,” he exhales, dreamily looking at you. “All right then, turn around.”

***

It’s two hours before midnight when another idea pops up in your head. “Haechannie,” you call him out, as you click off your phone and turn to him. Hearing him humming in response, you continue. “Call Jaemin and the rest of your cute little boyband.”

By the tone of your voice, he knows he’s going to go through hell again. He groans out loud, head dangling around the edge of his bed. “Why is this day not over yet, I swear to God—”

“Just call them, I’ve got something in mind.”

“Don’t tell me you want me to make-out with them or something.”

“Why, are you interested?”

He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “I’d rather die.”

“Glad that’s not what I’m asking then.” You climb up to join him on the bed, sitting next to his body with your knee almost touching the side of his head. He shifts around, placing his head on your lap, and stares at you with tired eyes.

“Please don’t be too mean to me this time,” he begs and you snort, can’t believe that the mischievous Lee Donghyuck actually begs you to spare his life.

You card your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch. It doesn’t last long though, his blissfulness, because on the next second, you say, “I want you to play that online game you always play with them but be terribly bad at it.”

“WHAT—“ He blurts out, sitting upright in such a rush that he almost knocks your heads together. “WHY—HOW COULD YOU—”

“Okay, breathe.”

“But this is too much!” He whines, his eyes widening in horror. “I have a status to uphold! You can’t do this to me!”

“Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll give you permission to explain the situation to them.” You squeeze his hand, smiling understandingly at him. “You can tell them that you’re doing this because you’re granting my birthday wish.”

That manages to calm him down a little. “So I can let them know before the game? Oh, thank God—”

“No, a month after the game.”

“WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL—”

“Just do it already!” You shout out with a teasing grin strapped to your face. “You owe me at least that much after I let you come in my mouth.”

He gapes, eyes widening in shock. “That was for this?! I feel so tricked!”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that before but—” You shake your head, waving the rest of your sentence away. “Come on, Haechannie, please, please, please~” You rub your hands together, batting your eyelashes again.

He grumbles, pushing you away. “Stop doing that aegyo on me, I’m not doing it!”

I’ll grant you five wishes for your birthday!” You can’t believe you’re saying this and you know you’re going to regret it later in the future but there’s still time and you hope he’s gonna forget about it when the time arrives. Hopefully.

Haechanlooks extremely tempted at that. “Any kind of wishes?”

You wince but nod eventually. “As long as it’s nothing sexual.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.” His smirk is back and he’s doing it so cockily that it sends shivers down your spine. Well, you can work over that problem later. “Fine, let’s go. Give me the phone.”

Haechan calls Jaemin an asswipe the first second he gets connected but by the sound of his voice coming from the other line, he’s not even bothered in the slightest. “Get off Jeno’s dick for once and log back into your account. Bring Jisung with you. I’ll be online in ten minutes and if I don’t see you there, I’ll text your mom the real reason why you didn’t show up on Christmas Day.” And he shuts off his phone with a click, throwing it randomly on his bed.

“Do boys normally make phone calls like that?” you ask, judging him.

He only shrugs, “Cooler ones do.”

“What happened during Christmas Day?”

“Jaemin got his ass drunk, went out with Jeno, and ended up having a threesome with a stripper.” He yawns, throwing himself back on the bed again. “I’m just glad they didn’t take Jisung with them. He’s been through a lot, that poor kid.” And when he sees you raising an eyebrow in question, he just waves you off. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

There’s a lot of shouting in the background when the game started, most of it coming from the other line of Haechan’s headphones that’s strapped to his ears. You lean close to him so you can hear Jeno shouting at him, “Yah! What the fuck, Lee Donghyuck?! I thought you said you were going left!”

“I am going left.”

“THAT’S NOT LEFT, YOU IDIOT!”

And you feel sorry for your boyfriend for degrading himself on purpose like this. “As you can see,” he says, wincing as his ears begin to ring from all the shouting. He mutes his headphone as he focuses back on you with his fingers angrily tapping on his keyboards. “This causes me physical pain. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You peck him on his cheek. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Haechan snorts, looking away and tapping his headphone again to unmute his microphone. “Hey assholes, I just died again. Sorry about that.” More screaming and angry rantings can be heard from the other line and you savor the moment as long as you can. It’s not every day you can see your cocky boyfriend being bullied by his underlings.

It’s too fun watching him play with his face contorting like he’s in deep agony that you begin to lose track of time. You just realize how late it is when Haechan suddenly quits the game, puts his PC back to the sleeping mode, and turns his chair around to face you. You suddenly feel nervous as you sit on the edge of his bed, with him staring at you with a sinful smile creeping up his face, crossing his legs.

“Ten, nine, eight,” he says, tapping his fingers and you flinch in realization. “You better start running, Noona.” He walks over, chucking off his shirt on his way to you whilst continuing his countdown. His silver necklace glints under the fluorescent light of his room and he bends down, trapping you between his arms. “Because I’ll be in charge in three… two…”

You gulp, your heart thrumming loudly against your ribcages as you feel his lips hovering dangerously above yours.

“One.”

***

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for-fucks-sake-h · 3 years

Text

At My Weakest - two

rated: m, mature | word count: 4.2k | story page

“I wanna taste you again. Like a secret or a sin.”

- Matthew Perryman Jones

When Gianna stirred awake, she wasn’t surprised to find Harry laying beside her. What she was surprised about though was the absolute softness of his face.

The lines of his cheekbone and jaw were still sharp, but his skin was completely smooth. The usual indent between his brows was nonexistent, and his hair was a beautiful curly mess. She found herself reaching out to smooth some stray curls back behind his ear, her fingertips just barely brushing his soft skin.

He didn’t disappoint once he got her in his bed. Turns out his smug, cocky demeanor could be backed up, and backed up well. He wasn’t short on foreplay, he didn’t rush into it. If anything, he drew out the string of anticipation so ridiculously thin it snapped; until they were all hands and mouths and moans and pleasure.

It was good. It was fun. It was a much needed distraction.

But it looked different in the daylight.

What was passionate gasps and needy hands in the dimmed moonlight, was just a sloppy rebound fuck with a friend in the early morning daylight.

Gianna was careful to slip out of bed, nakedly grabbing her borrowed sweater from the floor before tiptoeing to his bathroom. And when she returned, she was met with green eyes and tousled hair.

“Thought you left.” His voice was even deeper than usual, the early morning rasp doing nothing to quell Gianna’s increasingly warming skin. “Didn’t think you were a hit and run kinda person.”

Gianna breathed a soft laugh as she made her way over to him in just her sweater.

“No, but I should probably get my ass on the couch before your sister wakes up.”

“Y’know she sleeps like the dead.” He watched her as he fiddled with the corner of his duvet, eyes tracing the curve of her hip where the sweater ended against her caramel skin. “Could give you one more before you go.”

The lightness of his eyes looked iridescent in the morning light, especially in comparison to the blown out brown of Gianna’s staring back at him.

He sat up just then, the dark emerald sheet slipping down his chest to rest casually across his bare hips. He was a sight with his unruly hair falling over his collar bones and his toned chest and stomach on full display.

“In fact,” he started as he scooted down the bed until he was right in front of her, his feet meeting the ground as he pulled her closer between his thighs, “was thinking we could do this whenever you want.”

Gianna’s hands found his bare shoulders, his skin still incredibly warm from sleep and as soft as it looked.

“Is this my sweater?” Harry asked suddenly as he looked down to where he played with the knitted fabric at her hips, his hands slowly splaying out on Gianna’s bare thighs.

“Gemma gave it to me last night,” she responded softly.

“Hm. Anyway… could be a perfect fit for both of us,” Harry murmured, his head tilted up towards Gianna’s, his lips inches from hers. The innuendo was embedded in his tone and the look on his face, and even more blatantly obvious when the most subtle indent of a dimple teased its way onto his cheek.

It would be too easy for Gianna to take him up on the offer, crawl back into bed with him and let him bring her over the edge as many times as he wanted; as many times as she wanted. But for as sexy and generous as he’d been, she knew it wasn’t the best idea and something she shouldn’t get used to.

Gianna sighed with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder blade. “H…”

“G,” Harry rebutted in a playful tone.

“Probably not a good idea.”

“I beg to differ. Think it’s a great idea. My best idea yet.”

“Last night was fun,” Gianna offered gently. “I just don’t think we should make a habit out of it. I have a lot going on and I don’t want to drag you—”

“—Hey, say no more.”

If Harry’s ego was bruised from the rejection, he didn’t show it.

Instead, he pushed himself up from the bed as she took a step back, the sheet knowingly falling away from his body as he stood before her at his full height. They were nearly chest to chest, and it took everything inside Gianna to ignore the way her nipples pebbled beneath the soft fabric of her sweater.

“The offer’s available if you ever want it.” His lips curled around every word, only making his offer even more overwhelmingly enticing.

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, his chest brushed against her arm as he carelessly moved around her to head to the bathroom, completely naked, every inch of his body on display.

If he felt Gianna’s eyes on him, he didn’t show it.

A fresh steam of her reworn silk skirt and sheer button down blouse later, and the party was in full swing, guests arriving one after another to her parents home.

Gianna was lucky to have arrived when she did, the distraction of guests doing her every favor to hold off the inevitable questions from her family. A quick comment that Steve was held up at work was as far into it as she could get before her mother was whisked away by one thing or another. Gianna wasn’t so worried about the lie as she was her delivery of said lie.

The end of her relationship was the last thing she felt like discussing at her fathers 50th birthday celebration.

The one thing she didn’t anticipate was the possibility of Steve showing up.

She saw him as soon as he walked through the front door, his polo shirt and perfectly styled hair immediately catching her eye. His eyes scanned the room in search of her, and it felt like her heart could literally drop out of her ass.

Gianna excused herself from her fathers colleagues before making her way toward him, her blood boiling as her heart pounded in her chest.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered harshly as she pulled him aside, eyes ablaze as she looked at him.

“You haven’t been answering your phone.” His response was so casual for someone who blew up their life together without a second thought.

“Yeah you lost that privilege yesterday, Steve.”

“Gianna, please. Let’s just talk about this.”

“You need to leave.”

“Gianna—”

“Y’alright?” Gianna turned to look up at the sound of the intruder's voice, her eyes meeting Harry’s expressionless face immediately.

Gianna was quick to reel in her emotions as well, instead smiling and greeting Harry and Gemma and their parents.

“Hi guys! Yeah, yeah, all good. Steve was just leaving,” Gianna continued to smile despite the confused look on Harry and Gemma’s parents faces. “He’s gotta work.”

Steve huffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Let’s go find Lisa!” Gemma suggested to her parents with a gentle guide on both of their backs.

“Oh, she’s in the kitchen.” Gianna pointed in the direction of her mother and released a sigh when they headed that way.

Gianna turned back to Steve the moment they were out of earshot. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Harry was quick to interject. “Think she told you to go.”

Gianna watched the anger wash over Steve’s face as he turned to Harry.

“Shouldn’t take me telling you for you to listen,” Harry added with a disapproving shake of his head.

That confidence Harry exuded? Yeah, it came in handy in a wide array of situations.

“Don’t make me kick you out of here,” Gianna told Steve. “I don’t want to cause a scene and embarrass my mum but I will if I have to.”

Harry took the most subtle step closer. He really only sort of shifted his weight towards Gianna more, barely enough to even notice, but judging by Steve’s disgruntled face, he noticed.

Gianna noticed too.

“We’re going to talk about this later.” Just the sound of Steve’s voice made Gianna’s heart plummet. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was.

She watched him turn around with an exasperated huff, a withheld breath escaping her when he disappeared through the front door.

“Y’okay?”

Gianna momentarily forgot Harry was still standing beside her. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Gonna go hide for a bit and collect myself.”

She didn’t wait for his response before she disappeared upstairs with tears welling in her eyes.

Who did Steve think he was? Just showing up at her parents home as if nothing happened? Something did happen. A lot of shit happened. Many words were exchanged and the way Gianna left their home and didn’t look back said even more then her frustrated, broken words.

Gianna didn’t know how long she hid in her childhood bathroom, but apparently it was long enough for someone to come looking for her when she heard the softest tap on the door.

She wasn’t crying, that was a plus. So she braced herself for her mother to be undoubtedly on the other side of the door, but opened it slowly to find none other than Harry leaned up against the doorframe, his face closer than she would have expected.

His chin was pointed down towards his chest, leaving him to look up at her through his lashes with his eyebrows raised high and the lines across his forehead even more prominent.

“Just checking on you. Y’don’t have to come out yet if you don’t wanna.”

Gianna leaned against the wall so that she was standing parallel to him, her body lining up perfectly with his, both of their arms crossed over their chests, the door to the bathroom propped open just enough for them to see each other.

“Is my mum looking for me?”

He pursed his lips with regret. “I did hear her say your name a little bit ago.”

Gianna released a deep sigh as she let her eyes fall closed. “I can’t believe he just showed up here.”

“Do you know what he wanted?”

Gianna scoffed. “No clue, probably to torture me some more. As if yesterday wasn’t enough.”

“He’s got some nerve,” Harry shook his head in disbelief.

Gianna exhaled again. “I don’t even wanna be here and now I gotta go put a show on for everyone and pretend like everything’s fine.”

Harry gave her a small, understanding smile. “Want me to go fall down the stairs as a distraction?”

The tiniest shiver rolled down his spine when she smiled with a shake of her head.

“I’ll just dive head first. They’ll be so distracted with my broken collar bone that you can sneak out the back,” he added with a completely straight face, intently fighting the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Gianna laughed softly as she pushed her elbow against his. “What if you mess up your face? I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Never mind scratch that idea,” Harry replied quickly, the smile forming across his face regardless of his efforts.

Gianna’s face softened after a moment, and Harry couldn’t be positive, but he was pretty sure her body moved a half an inch closer to his.

“Thanks for stepping in with him,” she said sincerely, her big brown eyes steady on his.

Harry swallowed discreetly, licking his lips in a force of habit. “Anytime,” he murmured, his eyes flicking across her face.

“You didn’t have to,” Gianna replied mindlessly, her eyes falling across his face.

“Know I didn’t.” Harry’s voice was soft, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt like his skin was on fire.

She was so close. Her perfume invaded his senses the same way it did on the roof, it had seeped into his sheets and lingered on his skin that morning. It was all he could focus on, subconsciously pulling him closer to her.

Although, maybe not totally subconscious at all. He knew he wanted her. He knew that after one night with her, that he wanted her again, as many times as she’d give herself to him.

He could tell she wanted to kiss him. Fuck, he was willing her to just do it. It was like every fiber of his being was screaming for her to just connect their mouths, get lost in each other again. But he could tell she was having some sort of internal battle that held her back.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly, eyes peering into hers.

She blinked back at him, the soft furrow of her brows somehow making her more attractive. He watched her mouth open and close, trying to find the words.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

He could feel her breath just barely brushing his lips as his eyes pulled down to the curve of her Cupid’s bow first, then the curve of her chest, before traveling the same path back again, ready to dive back into the deep brown of her eyes.

They were cast down, the curl of her lashes on display instead, and at first Harry assumed in shame or disinterest. But they burned against his own mouth, as she took account of every curve of his lips.

“G...” he tried once more, hoping that the movement of his lips spurred her on.

She was about to say something, Harry could see it on every inch of her face, but then there were footsteps entering the room and the sound of her name being called that Gianna snapped back, pulling away from him so quickly that it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Oh there you are,” Gemma said, relieved. “Your mum's going to go searching for you any minute, wanted to find you first.”

“Yeah, same,” Harry nodded as he tried to casually run a hand through the top of his hair and gently tuck a stray piece behind his ear. Only it didn’t feel casual at all, the only thing he felt was fidgety. “I’ll go distract her,” he added as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and turned to leave.

The truth was, he felt like he couldn’t breath and he wasn’t even quite sure why. Gianna was hard to read, she was really good at bottling things up which left him completely unsure where he stood. She told him she wasn’t interested, and he understood why. Things could get complicated and that was the last thing she needed in her life at the moment. But then she looked at him like that, and her eyes - reluctant but burning into his skin - said something completely different.

He wasn’t going to push her, though. She needed a friend and that was what he was going to be to her. So he went to Lisa’s side and talked her ear off about a recent show he had watched on Discovery, and watched with a small smirk as Gianna’s mum pretended to be interested.

Luckily, the rest of the party went on as normal. And even more so, Gianna and Harry didn’t have a moment alone together until the goodbyes. There was the slightest bit of hesitancy when they went to leave a kiss on each other's cheeks, something they and their families always did when parting ways.

It was a blip of a moment really, but it was enough to have chills running across Gianna’s skin just from the barely there scruff of Harry’s cheek brushing hers. He gave a small, but reassuring smile when he pulled away, a soft squeeze of her arm just before he followed Gemma out the door.

It was insane, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him the rest of the night. While she helped her parents clean up, while they talked her ear off about their upcoming travel plans, while she finally peeled herself away from them at nearly midnight, while she drove back to Gemma and Harry’s place, while she tiptoed inside and locked up behind her.

“Hey,” Gemma called from where she was curled up on the couch in front of the tv. “Rest of the night go okay?”

“Oh, yeah. The usual really.” Gianna sighed as she slipped her studded heels off, her limbs feeling heavy from the long day.

“I’ll be out of your bedroom in a mo, this is almost over,” Gemma said half heartedly, eyes still trained on the tv.

Gianna didn’t bother with a response, but instead wandered down the hallway to Gemma’s room to steal some clothes. She couldn’t help but glance at Harry’s bedroom door, the light peeking through the bottom like a temptation.

She wondered what he was doing in there as she changed, if he heard her come in, if he could sense her in the proximity somehow. Her fingertips prickled with curiosity and her mind tiptoed along the ledge of “what if” and “maybe” and “why not”.

He offered. All she had to do was accept.

When she stepped out of Gemma’s room with an oversized white tee shirt and minty fresh teeth, she immediately noticed that Harry’s light was no longer illuminating the edges of his door, the room seemingly pitch black.

Maybe that was a sign from the universe or something. Maybe, she thought, she should just quit while she’s ahead.

Her makeshift bed was all ready for her in the living room, Gemma having neatly arranged blankets and pillows on the couch where she was previously sitting. That was one thing about both of the Style’s siblings, they never made you feel unwelcome.

“Alright love, let me know if you need anything,” Gemma spoke as she placed her empty tea cup in the sink.

“Thanks, Gems. Seriously. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Gemma smiled warmly as she walked over, wrapping Gianna in a quick hug before heading for the hallway.

“Oh,” she turned around quickly, “Harry spoke to Steve after we left.”

Gianna’s heart stopped, bracing herself for whatever transpired between them. “How bad was it?”

“Eh,” Gemma shrugged, chuckling lightly as she continued. “Harry yelled a lot, but he’ll be gone for a few hours tomorrow morning so you can go get your stuff. We’ll go with you to help.”

Gianna released a heavy sigh, overwhelmed with her friend's generosity. “You guys don’t have to do that.”

“Too bad because we are,” Gemma quickly replied. “Harry told Steve he was coming with you anyway, just in case he decides to try anything like what went on today. Plus, the more hands means the faster you can get out of there.”

Gianna gave her a pouty smile.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gemma laughed. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would,” she agreed.

“Besides, Harry’s the one that made it happen. He just told me the plan before he went to bed.” Gemma smoothed down the baby hairs sticking up at the front of Gianna’s hairline, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. “I love you, get some sleep.”

Gianna didn’t know what she did to deserve a friend like Gemma, but she was grateful every single day for whatever cosmic blip happened in the universe to force them together.

“Love you,” Gianna murmured as she watched Gemma head for her room, finding herself standing completely still as she watched her bedroom door close softly at the end of the hall.

And then she was left in silence with nothing but her thoughts. Which if anyone could hear inside her brain, they’d know they were anything but silent.

She went to plop down on the couch, letting out a long, deep sigh as she sunk into the cushions.

Harry didn’t need to put his neck out like that, but he did. His exact reasoning, Gianna wasn’t sure. But he appeared beside her at that party like it was second nature. He took it upon himself to find a way for her to safely get her things from her former home, and she was grateful. He was a good friend. She knew that already, but it was even more prominent now.

She thought starting something with Harry would be harder on her than not. She thought she didn’t need the added stress. But he never showed any indication that he would make anything stressful for her. If anything, the only thing he showed was the opposite.

A distraction, an escape, a good time.

That was all she needed right now. And in a way, that was exactly what Harry was offering.

So she pulled herself up from the couch with purpose, and padded down the hall to the door on the right with her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her fingers brushed along the grain of wood, a last chance effort to back away with none the wiser.

But she didn’t want to. As ridiculous as it seemed, Harry made her feel something that she desperately needed at the moment.

So she jumped.

It was the softest tap, her knuckle meeting the wood so lightly she was positive he wouldn’t even hear it. Her breath was shaky as she did it again, this time the tiniest bit harder, more sure.

There was no sign of movement behind the door. She waited with baited breath, tapping her knuckles a third time, squeezing her eyes closed, begging for Gemma not to hear.

But nothing. No sound, no movement, no Harry.

Maybe he had snuck out at some point, while she was changing perhaps. Or maybe he had decided she was right after all, that this - she - was too complicated for him right now.

She drew one last small pattern on the door, her temple pressed against the framing before she dropped her hand and pulled away.

And then in a moment of pure heart stopping relief, the door swung open and a large hand wrapped around her forearm, tugging her inside the dark room so quickly she felt lightheaded.

Her back was pressed up against the wall beside the door as Harry eased it closed quietly. Gianna caught her breath, her chest rising and falling sharply as she took him in. He was in nothing but boxer briefs sitting low on his hips, his hair pulled up in a bun, his skin reflecting against the light of the muted tv in the corner of his room. His bed was unmade, the spot he was previously occupying obvious, what with blankets thrown to the one corner and pillows propped up against the center of the headboard.

Harry was looking at her expectantly when she turned her face back to him, but he didn’t say anything, eyes simply scanning the features of Gianna’s face.

“How’d you know it was me?” Gianna murmured softly.

“I didn’t.” His tone was neutral, but his eyes were blazing, even in the darkness.

She couldn’t pull her eyes from him, and all she could think about was taking the half a step needed to be pressed against his soft skin.

“Hoped it was,” Harry added after a beat of silence, his eyes falling to her mouth. “Didn’t know, but hoped.”

The words barely made their way from his lips before Gianna was taking the small step to connect their mouths. And it was as if Harry was waiting for it, because his hand immediately cupped her jaw as he took his own step, her back pressing against the wall once more.

His lips were warm, and they tasted familiar this time. That thought surprised Gianna somehow - this wasn’t the first time, and although it was new, it was comforting in a way she wouldn’t be able to explain if she tried.

He kissed her with his entire body, every inch of him pressed tightly against her, pinning her to the wall. His tongue teased her bottom lip, and without second thought, she met him with her own, sparks shooting across her skin in the form of goosebumps and anticipation.

The soft groan that escaped his throat as he pulled her even closer lit her on fire, his fingers digging harder into the soft curves of her hips.

“Fuck, I want you,” Harry sighed breathlessly, his lips trailing across Gianna’s jaw and down her neck.

She scratched her nails down his back, his body only pressing against hers more in response. “Want you too,” she whispered, like it was a confession, as if her actions hadn’t already exposed her.

His lips burned against her throat, sucking deliberate kisses to her sensitive skin as his hands smoothed up and down her sides, gripping here, pulling there. She could feel him, hard and needy against her pelvis, and it made her stomach twist with desire.

“This has to stay between us,” Gianna spoke gently up to the ceiling. “No one can know.”

“Good,” Harry stamped a kiss to her jaw, pulling her face to his by the back of her neck, his lips brushing hers with his words. “Can be our secret.”

And it was, he made sure of it. No one would know what went on between them under the darkness of the night, hidden behind the walls of his room, disguised behind their eyes in the daylight.

It would just be theirs, whatever it was, for as long as Harry could help it.

But that’s the thing about secrets… they always find a way out.

a/n: *nervous laughter* Heyyy guysss lol so! There we have it! It’s happening, it’s fine, everything’s fine. The biggest thanks to the best babes @andwhenshesays @oh-honey-styles @harrytheehottie @real-work-of-art @haute-romance-quotidienne @all-things-fic for the comments and laughs and support and encouragement - you guys are the real ones. I hope everyone enjoyed this one! Much more to come *more nervous laughter* lol thank you for reading! I hope you’ve had a great friday! xxx

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#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #amw

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divinerulerluvr · 3 years

Note

💧- Random angst headcanon

Getting into a fight with the Evans HC

a/n. okay this is my first headcanon ever but it’ll be good (i hope)

Tate Langdon

The fight would probably be about something stupid.

I’m talking super trivial and almost childish

He’d immediately feel bad though and you’d end up watching some movie together before the day even ended.

Occasionally he’d want you to apologize but as i said, occasionally.

Kit Walker

The fight would probably be about him not giving you enough attention.

Between his work as a mechanic and the two kids, you felt like if you weren’t there, it wouldn’t matter

When you told him, he’d dismiss the idea and make the dinner that night as a way to show gratitude.

Kit doesn’t like to have arguments so he’d always try to dissolve it as quick as possible.

Pre-Death Kyle Spencer

Wouldn’t let down from his place in the fight.

The fight would most likely be about him studying too much or you being a little too friendly with his frat bros since he knows they’re horrible people.

He wants you to be protected from bad people like them.

He’d probably say something that hit a bit too close to home during the fight but he’d quickly apologize.

I feel like he has a temper but only every once in a while.

You know you’ve messed when he just falls silent.

It’d take a day maybe two for you guys to make up and go back to normal.

Jimmy Darling

This fucker has a victim complex and you can not convince me otherwise.

The fight would be about jealousy. Rather it was him being jealous or you, the topic would often be jealousy nonetheless.

He’s probably insecure since he’s a “freak” and you’re “normal”

You’d be jealous because of his side gig of literally fingering women.

You said you were okay with it initially but the more he did it, the more you got bothered by it.

He said the extra money was good and you pushed down your insecurities.

There would be a big fight where you two bickered in his caravan and it’d be ended when one of the other freaks said you were being too loud and it was disturbing their sleep.

Jimmy holds a grudge.

You’d make up the next week when he ended up missing your presence.

He’d say it was stupid and that he knows you’re loyal to him.

James Patrick March

Where do i start.

The fight would 100% be about his side hobby of killing.

You didn’t like when he spent more time torturing people than paying attention to you.

He’d blow you off, ignoring your complaints.

There would be a huge fight when you refused to have sex with him one night.

He’d probably reason with you, saying he gives you the perfect amount of attention and that you were being dramatic.

You decided to hold your ground, not letting him touch you until he apologized.

This cocky bitch would give you the silent treatment as well.

When you’d see each other, he’d disappear into thin air since he’s dead and you’re not.

Liz was your confidant through all this. Saying that you didn’t need him.

She had a tendency to make you feel better.

The fight would be resolved when you woke up tied to your bed with him watching over you.

You admitted you missed him and you two would fuck until the other hotel guessed thought a murder was happening.

Kai Anderson

He’d prey on your insecurities during fights.

You could be fighting about stupid things like his tendency to ignore you when focused on work and he’d comment things like “No wonder your mom/dad didn’t love you”

He just wanted to see you upset.

You two would fight all the time.

He had a thing for picking small and useless fights just to end up fucking it out.

Angry sex was his thing.

He’d start fights about you being a “pillow princess”, flirting with his boys, being too close with his sister. Trivial shit.

During cult meetings, he’d glare at you and make snide comments when talking about women while staring directly at you.

Kai also loved humiliating you in front of his cult.

Saying personal things or talking about yours and his sex life with his men.

It would only add to the fights.

He’d be yelling at you during fights, sometimes getting overheated and becoming aggressive.

Soon, he’d realize how scared and upset you looked and would apologize under his breath before rushing away.

The next day, you’d wake up in his arms and everything would be fine again.

#evan peters #ahs #tate langdon #kit walker #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #james patrick march #kai anderson #head canon #requests are open

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acklesterritory · 3 years

Text

That Kind of Love Never Dies_Chapter 1

Hey guys, Now that more voted to split my fictions in 2 parts, I'm back with the first part. I hope you like it. Don't forget to leave me feedbacks. I'll always appreciate them. Love you all.

This is for writing event @tvdspngirl314

My quote is "That kind of love never dies"

Dean x Reader series (just 2 parts)

This chapter words: ~5k

Series warning:

Angst, fluf, smut, angry Dean, hurt Reader, hurt Dean, there's some more but I hate spoilers so I insist on "Angst & Hurt"

It all started with a stupid argument at home. What was it? Three months ago? Sam couldn't remember the exact date but after years, it was the first time this awkward coldness between Dean and Y/n had started to build. He could remember the first time he and his brother came across Y/n like it was yesterday, they were hunting a very nasty creature who used to kidnap young and lonely women at night, then got them wrapped in ropes and ties on a bed in a warehouse to rape, torture and feed on their blood until the victim either died or accepted to turn into one of his kind.

Sam could remember the helplessness in people's eyes too. The pain of the victims' families, the frustration and anger on cops' faces when no one could find the criminal yet, even after the sixth missing girl.

"Sammy, he just kidnapped another girl. And I think I know where he's gonna take her. Let's hunt this son of a bitch."

When Dean was saying that, Sam never expected him to fall in love with the woman they would save that night. Well, unfortunately they weren't fast enough to prevent any harm to the girl. When they arrived and Dean killed the nasty creature, Y/n was almost dead. The monster had already raped her, tortured her … and when he felt the hunters enter the place, he drank almost all of her blood, to gain more energy to fight. So as always, Dean was up to blaming himself. Of course only in his own eyes, not anyone else's.

"Call Cas to come home. Tell him it's an emergency."

Dean told his brother when he finally could get Y/n out of those ropes. And Sam knew he was right. At that point, no one could save Y/n unless God or his angels. Maybe she was not so lucky coming across a nasty supernatural creature like that but she was lucky enough that Cas arrived just on time and healed her. However, angels can only heal physical wounds. But Y/n was hurt much more than that. She couldn't just move on from the things that the bastard had put her through. Even after Cas tricked her brain to forget some certain things, she still had bad nightmares and had this dark shade of hopelessness in her eyes. Soon, she started to eat and talk less and less. And Dean just couldn't let her go. He really wanted to fix all of that for her but she kept shutting him out… until the depression hit her. It was so bad that Cas felt the need to tell them to prepare themselves for her death. Because after all those days and unlike everything else in their lives, The Winchesters were already used to her presence around them; like the way a lonely person can get used to a wounded cat more and faster than anyone else.

"I'm not gonna hunt until I'm sure she can live her normal life." When Dean stated that, Sam really thought he was joking. But after a few days he started to believe it. Dean truly would do anything to keep her alive. From cooking vegetables to laughing at his own dad jokes in front of Y/n to make her smile. That was when Sam started to feel that they can be more than a random hunter/rescued victim relationship! It felt like his brother had finally found his motivation in life: "Saving Y/n."

Gradually Y/n started to respond to this special attention from Dean with trust and smiles. Soon they became a power couple that could motivate each other so easily that sometimes Charlie would call them out. And honestly Sam had no problem with it. In fact Y/n had become his other sister.

"My God, Dean! You're burning up!" It was two day after a werewolf hunt in which Dean had got hurt. At first it was just some scratches on his arms and chest. Yet as the time passed, more symptoms started to appear: headache, pain, fever, cold sweat, even nose bleeding and before they could figure it out, Dean fell unconscious. Apparently the claws of the werewolf were poisonous. However Sam wasn't sure. The only thing he got no doubts about was the fact that it was already too late. Dean couldn't make it to the hospital. So either Sam had to do anything possible to save him or Cas should've picked up his God damn phone.

"No. no, no, no, no. Dean … Dean!!!"

That was when Sam got to hear Y/n's helpless cry and see her true feelings. She was already in love with his brother.

Luckily, unlike typical love stories; no one died that night. Sam's antidote worked. And Dean opened his eyes an hour later.

"Sammy … Y/n?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Y/n grabbed his face and put her thirsty lips on her beloved hunter's, letting the tears stream down on her face… and then his.

"Never do that again." She begged, breaking the kiss, her trembling hands holding Dean's face so she could look into his eyes.

Sam couldn't stop his smile remembering how cute they were. Y/n literally had Dean wrapped around her little finger, to the point he accepted to teach her how to hunt and soon she was part of their team too. Until … a few months ago. After two years of them being constantly close to each other, Sam could tell something was off when Dean started to go out without eating breakfast with Y/n. Of course she got suspicious after the third time and that was when their endless arguments started.

"Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because nothing is wrong, Y/n."

Actually there was. Something was VERY wrong. Anyone could tell that just by the change in Dean's eyes whenever he wanted to look at Y/n. Day by day he was getting more quiet and cold. Now they didn't even eat pie together or watch movies late at night. And Sam couldn't ignore his brother being grumpy or drunk on hunts, not anymore.

"Ok man, I've had enough. You either tell me what's wrong with you or next time I won't make any excuses so you can leave Y/n out of our hunt plans. I'm serious, Dean, I'll tell her the truth." He finally said, when they were alone in the impala, on their way to do their next hunt.

"She wants more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Sometimes it's like she sees more in me. She thinks we can have a different life. There's no need for any saying, I can see it in her eyes whenever we accidentally come across some family at a diner that try to feed their kids or people's wedding photos whenever we go to talk with some witnesses or whoever during the research! Sometimes she even looks up wedding dresses or kid stuff on the net!" Dean blew his anger out of his nostrils and sighed, shaking his head.

"Wow." Sam couldn't find the proper word to say but he couldn't hide his surprised face either.

"What?" Dean gave him an annoyed look.

"I mean …" Sam chuckled. "… are you telling me you're actually angry with her for imagining the things you always dream about?!"

"Sam …"

"No, really. I'm just curious. What's wrong with you, man?" Sam asked genuinely, waiting for an answer.

"What's wrong with me?! You think something is wrong with me just because I'm the rational one in this relationship; who's actually able to see the difference between a dream and the reality?"

Yeah, anyone could take that earnest speech, but not Sam. He'd seen and knew enough about his brother.

"What's the reality? Aren't you and Y/N living that dream life already?"

"What?! No. No … that's not the same." Dean shook his head.

"Really? How is it not? It's been two years, Dean. You two are constantly with and/or around each other. Always worried when the other one is in trouble and still looking at one another like there is nothing in the world that can make you happy as much as this relationship. So … excuse me if I won't buy your pretty speech; man ." Sam said, Rolling his eyes.

"Ok, let's say you're right but ... is it gonna be like that forever? With all the supernatural crap that we have to take care of … and the constant danger and chaos in this hunter life we have… I …"

"You what?" Sam asked when Dean didn't finish his sentence. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at this unknown point in the depth of the road. Finally he blew out his despair.

"I just can't let her fall for the things I know I can't provide for her. It's not fair, Sammy. It's not fair to lock her up in this dark life with me just because she loves me … especially while I know there is a whole bright future out there waiting for her."

"Here we go, the old Dean's self-doubt" Sam thought to himself as he took a deep breath before finding the best words to wake his brother up from this nightmare

"Yeah, I know but I don't think it's your call. If Y/n wants to go to hell with you instead of living in heaven with someone else, it's her choice. Not your responsibility. Right?"

Dean shook his head while his lips curved up a little to fake a smile but he never answered or said anything about that conversation ever again. He kept his silence for like three weeks … until someone new showed up: "Gary Smith". A tall man with the most stylish haircut and the most perfect teeth and smile.

They saw him for the first time at their hangout bar, as the new bartender who almost jumped in Y/n's way as soon as they entered the bar.

"Oh my God, bunny! Is this really you?" He said, pulling her in his embrace. Like she was the long time missing piece of his beloved puzzle!

"Bonny? You're wrong. Her name is Y/n." Dean said, pretty annoyed by the way Gary tightened his arms around Y/n's little shoulders, making him chuckle.

"No, uh … it's just a nickname." Y/n said as soon as the guy let her go.

"Yeah, actually the most fitting nickname that I could think of. I mean … you have to agree. She got the most cute little ears in the world." The guy explained, chuckling and pulling on her little star earring. Well, if Sam wanted to be honest, he had to agree with him. He never paid any attention to it before but now that Gary mentioned it, he could tell Y/n's ears were truly small.

"I see … So … I guess this means you were close friends?" Dean said, already hating the way Y/n e's blushed with hearing her old nickname.

"Uh … well, no. Actually more than that." The guy grinned, ruffling his own hair while he was awkwardly laughing and looking at Y/n. Just like a proud embarrassed teen!

"We used to date." Y/n said.

*oh* Sam tried his best not to let that stupid grin sit on his lips but Dean's frown and his sudden heavy silence didn't let him do so.

"Yeah. We are kinda each other's first. Like … you know? prom date." The man added, giving Y/n a wink while Dean's gaze was still locked on his large arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah. It's been years, Gary."

"I know. But believe me, bunny. you still look the same." He said, bending to put a kiss on her right cheek.

Dean would kill him. Sam just knew that. Because his brother's eyes were already burning with jealousy.

"By the way, don't you wanna tell me who these gentlemen are ?" The guy asked Y/n, giving her his softest smile.

"Of course. This is Sam and this is Dean. My colleagues who are my friends now. I live in their place."

After they met, everything got even more complicated. Y/n, the girl who was still trying to get old-happy-days Dean back suddenly stopped whatever she used to do. No more complains, no waiting at nights to see Dean before going to bed, no more effort to get involved in hunts, no nothing. And despite what Dean had claimed before, it was making Dean even more frustrated. Day to day he and Y/n were getting colder towards each other and there was nothing he could do to fix it. That was what made him even more furious. Sam already knew all of that and he still had to live with both of those grumpy faces. So last night when they began to fight, he could see this was coming: Y/n left the bunker after Dean let some hurtful things out of his mouth, just because he didn't know how to deal with all the heartache anymore. He now was convinced that Y/n didn't love him anymore. Yet the next day after drinking whatever strong drink they had, he begged Sam to come with him. Apparently Jodie texted Dean about Y/n being in her place for that night. Just to make sure that her crazy step son won't sell his soul over a tracking spell! So Dean almost begged his brother to be there with him, cause Dean believed that as much as Y/n didn't care about him, she still respected Sam and cared about him. Like a little sister and her elder brother.

So here they were, In Jodie's living room, in front of her and Y/n.

"Considering your sleepy eyes, I think we caught you at bed time, huh?" Sam asked, checking Y/n's obvious eye bags.

"Who says that? I'm totally good, Sam."

She said with a small smile, looking much more in control and stronger than before. So Sam knew it was a lie. Y/n Just had made her peace with what had happened last night. The realization۹ kicked Dean in the gut. Y/n always used to be stronger and bolder when she got hurt.

"I'm gonna make some coffee for us. Why don't you guys take a seat till I come back?"

Jodie interrupted, to ease the heavy and sharp silence that suddenly had fallen over all of them.

Y/n gave her a smile.

"Of course."

It was so fake. Her smile didn't even curl her lips completely. She was still badly hurting.

Sam swore in his head when he looked over his brother who sank silently into the nearest seat at the end of the table like a broken shell that he was too . One of Dean's hands was in the pocket of his jacket, the other formed a fist on the table. Sam was sure Dean knew it too. He knew everything was almost past saving. "Almost". Sam tried to stick to their small chance.

"So …" He cleared his voice before he put some (semi fake) hope into his words."You're … you're gonna come back home today or did Alex and Claire made you promise them otherwise?" He laughed and tried to make it funny but the truth was he asked this for Dean's sake, knowing he already was struggling to find the words … to let Y/n know how much he wanted her back … to ask her to come back.

"To be honest … I don't think I can live in the bunker anymore." Y/n said and as Dean's head snapped up to look at her in horror, she raised her hand to stop his (likely) protests.

"I applied for a job 3 weeks ago and to my surprise they called me this morning to tell me I'd actually got it."

*What?*

No one had to ask it. The question was already hung in the air. She snored mockingly in her nose. "Perfect timing, right?"

She moved her gaze from her interlocked fingers on the table to Dean's eyes.

He didn't answer, he didn't move but he got tense. Still staring back at Y/n.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked, once again saving Dean from asking the question he was itching to ask with some other words that for sure couldn't be nice.

"I wanted to but I didn't think I could actually get it and even if I did, I never figured out how to tell you. Besides, I never considered the "move out" option before..." She looked at Sam for a second before she turned her gaze on Dean. "... But I actually appreciate that you bring it up. I think now I can take the advice. I'm gonna move on."

Sam's heart dropped in his stomach when he heard those words. Because he knew what this meant. It felt something like having to watch Dean get stabbed in the heart.

"Is this … because of that Bartender?" Dean asked, staring deadly at Y/n with his bloodshot eyes. He was already chewing on his bottom lip. And Sam knew a heavy storm was on its way to hit them.

"I don't want to answer that question."

*shit*

"Why? Because you can't just simply say no?" Dean scolded and Sam could see how it pushed on Y/n boundaries.

"No. Because it's not your fucking business and it's not Gary's business either. But at least he knows his limits."

*well, fuck*

"By "limits" you mean when he drools on you just because for God knows whatever the reason, you started to wear leather jackets when we go there?"

"WHAT?!"

*Oh, fuck* Sam thought to himself, watching Y/n rise from her seat.

"You think … you really think that I …" she laughed nervously and Sam could tell she would punch Dean in the face if she wasn't a sweet, super nice person.

"How you can even …"

"I can even what, Y/n? Are we now going to pretend like I'm a blind man who can't see how you got attracted to your ex again? Did you really think I couldn't see how your hands were shaking when his filthy face lighted up by seeing you for the first time after all these years?"

Sam wanted to interrupt him or at least leave the room but everything was happening so fast.

"So what? Why and since when you care about my private life?"

"Since you stopped drinking bunker's beers just because you rather drink those crappy poisonous cocktails he makes at the bar!"

Dean was on his feet now as well. And despite his will, Sam couldn't stop his smile. He never saw his brother this jealous before. It was fun.

"Poisonous? … You … of all people, you are the one who says this? cause as much as I know, you're the one who puts dormitives in my guest's food so the poor guy gets tired and can't spend his time with me!"

"Yeah, because your poor guy is not welcomed in MY PLACE!" Dean yelled, punching the table with so much power that made everyone almost jump out of their skins.

"Dean!" Finally Sam interrupted but as soon as he stood up, someone rang the doorbell and Sam could hear Jodie welcoming someone inside.

"Guys … I know it's not my place to interfere but you two really need to sort things out somewhere private … of course that's when both of you can be much calmer than this."

"No, we have nothing to say or to talk about, anymore. Your brother was clear enough when he said he wants me to move out, so I'll move out. And that's it."

Y/n declared, looking at Sam to resist any eye contact with Dean, probably to make him even more crazy.

"And that's it? You wanna ignore that part where you were too eager and ready to accept that suggestion and leave the bunker instantly like your pants were on fire?!"

Dean retorted while Y/n was shaking her head like she couldn't believe him.

"Whose pants are on fire?" Jodie interrupted as soon as she re-entered the room with the coffees she'd made, this time a man was with her. Y/n's guy. The famous bartender.

*Oh, No!*

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a second so the guy couldn't read his face.

"Obviously not mine." Dean hissed through his teeth, looking first at the guy and then at Y/n with such a disappointment and rage that no one could ignore.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The guy asked, choosing the worst spot to stand on: right next to Y/n.

"My typical life I guess. Nothing's new." She mumbled in reply to him but her eyes were still on Dean.

"No, nothing is wrong with your life, Y/n. It's about your choices. That's what's wrong with you. As always." Dean said bitterly. As sharp as a knife, as cold as ice. Sam could see how it drained color from Y/n's face.

"You better watch your mouth, buddy." The Gary guy warned Dean and Sam could tell that if it wasn't for the sudden thud sound that stole everyone's attention, Dean would throw a fight right there. But …

"Y/n!" Jodie almost screamed. Y/n was laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

"Oh, God." Sam said as Jodie rushed to her.

"Y/n? … Y/n can you hear me?"

As she sat next to her, Gary's fingers already were on Y/n's carotid pulse point. So Sam couldn't stop himself from looking up at his brother, who was still standing where he was. In shock.

"Oh, shit!" Gary's worried voice made Sam check Y/n's pale face again but Jodie was the one to dare ask the question which was on everyone's minds.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Her pulse ... too faint." He said before turning to Dean: "Is she bleeding?"

"Bleeding?" Dean blinked and mumbled in confusion.

If it was up to Sam, he'd ask *What bleeding?* & *Why are you asking this from my brother?*

"Oh my. You still don't know. Do you?" Gary sneered.

"Know what? What's happening?" Jodie was freaking out now and Sam actually felt the same. He didn't like the way this stranger pretended like he knew her better than them. However what happened next was much more unexpected. And … rude!

To everyone's surprise, the guy reached out to Y/n's jeans and drew his hand between her legs but before anyone could react, he spread her legs open so it could be possible for everyone to see that big red stain there. Then he raised his hand. It was all wet and red in blood!

"She's having a miscarriage." He revealed.

Sam's gaze instantly caught Dean's ... Burning. Dean was burning inside with his heavy silence.

"Don't you worry. It's not mine." Gary added more fuel to that hell with such a mocking tone, staring right back at Dean's eyes.

Now Sam could feel it. The storm was there: rising in his brother's roar!

Before Sam could've moved any muscles, Gary was already pinned to the wall, Dean's hands on his now-ripped-out collar.

"Dean, no!" Sam jumped in, trying to catch his brother's arm before his fist make any contact with the guy's nose but all he could do was changing the direction of the punch which landed on Gary's shoulder, making a painful cracking sound.

"I said no … Dean, stop it." Sam had to literally cage Dean in his arms so the furious man couldn't tear Gary apart.

"Get off me, Sam. This son of a bitch has to learn his place."

"Enough!" As Dean just broke himself free, Jodie's scream stopped everyone in their tracks.

"It's enough!" Jodie warned all three men, pointing at them one by one.

"You want to fight? Not here. Not in my house!"

"But ..."

As soon as Dean opened his mouth to protest, Jodie cut him:

"And you … you should know Y/n is pregnant with your twins. So … you'll be a responsible man who will try his best to save them or you can get the hell out of here and never come back!"

"What?" Sam was too shocked to suppress his reaction while Dean couldn't even find any words to say. His confused look darted between Jodie's face and Y/n's figure while his parted lips kept moving without making any noise, just like a dying fish on the shore!

"I promised her not to tell anyone but it was a promise under normal conditions, not this." Jodie sighed, struggling to keep her emotions under control. Sam saw the worry in her frown. Like a real mother, worried for her children. However it was nothing in comparison to his brother's blank eyes and pale face.

"Dean, It's ok. We just need to take her to hospital. … it's ok, man. I promise."

He had to grab Dean by his jacket, as his brother was struggling to process all of these in his head.

"Come on, man. We got no time. Do I need to do this alone or you'll …"

"Get the car, Sammy."

It was just a simple sentence. Yet it had enough power to make Sam's heart sank. Since Dean had put the car keys in his hand saying that, Sam couldn't stop thinking about that tone. Dean never had called Baby a "car" In years. And Sam had never heard that crack in his voice since their Dad's death.

"You ok?" He finally let himself ask, two hours after they arrived at the hospital.

"I want to be." Dean closed his eyes and put his head against the cold wall, letting the dim light to darken the shadows under his eyes.

"I'm sure she'll be good. She's strong, Dean. You know that."

He smiled and Sam looked away not to watch him. He knew that smile. Dean used to give him that, whenever everything was gone so wrong that Dean couldn't promise him anything good. Like when both of them were still kids. Hungry, cold and all alone in a rusty motel room where John had left them on their own for a one day long hunt but then a heavy snow had crashed the roads and kept them apart for half a week. So Dean had to wash the dishes and do the laundry in the motel to rent the room for another day and provide some snacks so they wouldn't starve to death. But after three days, the hotel managers didn't want them to be around. And Sam could vividly remember that smile on his brother's face when he asked: *Where should we go then?*

"You were always such a father material. You know?"

Sam admitted with a broken smile on his face.

"You were always responsible, kind and caring with me as a kid. And I can't imagine anyone who deserves to be a father more than you."

Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes without looking at him: "But I don't want ... I really can't, Sammy."

All, it certainly wasn't the response Sam had expected. He used to believe that Dean would never turn down any chance to start a family with Y/n. Especially after everything in the world was back to normal.

"Are you kidding me? You always wanted this."

"No …" Dean finally turned his gaze to meet his brother's confused eyes. "No, Sammy. Not like this. I don't want to raise another kid without his mom. I'm not that strong anymore."

Dang. Once again Sam's heart dropped in his stomach. Dean was really helpless.

"Mr. Winchester?"

Dean was on his feet as Sam just realized the doctor's presence.

"It's me."

Sam prayed for any good news as doctor took a glance of Dean and fixed his glasses on his face …

"To be continued …"

READ CHAPTER 2 HERE

tag list:

@jay-and-dean @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278

The next and also ultimate chapter will post on Sunday, April 25. Thanks for reading.

Feedback are always appreciated.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x ofc #dean x you #dean winchester #allyswritingevent #Acklesterritory #dean winchester x ofc #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

10. “I still remember the way you taste.”

31. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

villain!wonwoo x superhero!f!reader

w.c: 2.6k (it was mistake okay I got carried away we should know this by now)

warnings: fluff, talks of death, ghosts, torture if you squint, graveyards, digging up graves (don’t do that yall), angst a little, it’s hinted that the reader can communicate with ghosts. (if you’re uncomfortable with any of these themes this one is not for you)

note: I CAN EXPLAIN OKAY I KNOW YOU WANTED JOKER WONWOO BUT LIKE IT STARTED OFF THAT WAY AND THEN I GOT SOFT. Enjoy let know your thoughts please, they mean so much to me.

Also i will answer asks at some point, school is just keeping me super busy, BUT IM NOT IGNORING THEM THEY MAKE ME SMILE EVERY TIME I SEE THEM.

masterlist || drabble game

Wonwoo wiped the sweat off of his brow with the back of his hand, panting slightly as he stared down at the empty grave. “Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Vernon asked, digging his shovel into the ground with the heel of his boot. He rested his forearm against the handle looking at Wonwoo through his sweaty bangs.

“There is no reason, I was just bored.” Wonwoo shrugged, his cheeks were dusted with dirt and his white dress shirt was anything but white. The truth was he had a reason, he needed a way to meet you halfway and causing chaos was the only way to get you out of that shiny tower in the middle of the city where all the heroes resided. But his reasoning would never be voiced out loud, especially not to Vernon and so he lied like it was second nature to him.

Wonwoo missed you, He missed getting under your skin with his snarky remarks and idiotic plans to take over the world. Or at least the city. The world was his end goal, but in order to do that he needed to succeed at taking over the city first and so far he had failed. Mainly, do to you and your teammates interrupting his plans. Though along the way something unexpected happened. He had undoubtedly fallen truly, madly, deeply in love with you. It had annoyed him at first, his mind was constantly enveloped with thoughts of you. Interrupting everything he spent years working on.

It took him months to come to terms with his unwanted feelings and if he hadn’t snuck into the masked ball held every year at the tower; he probably wouldn’t have. But the second he saw you come down the grand staircase of the ballroom wearing a dress so blue, it put the night sky to shame; he kissed you before he could stop himself. Despite the mask he was wearing you had spotted him in the crowd and led him down an empty hallway when his urges got the best of him causing him to sin. When he pulled away he was shocked just as you were, but he was definitely floored when you had cut his apology short and kissed him again.

“So you decided to dig up an empty grave for fun?” Vernon pushed his dirt stained hand through his hand, leaving behind little specks of dirt in its wake. “How did you even know this grave would be empty?”

“It’s mine...well used to be mine. Obviously I’m not dead.” Wonwoo’s nonchalant tone sent shivers up Vernon’s back. Once again he found himself wondering why the hell he always found himself going along with Wonwoo’s schemes. He knew there was a reason. Wonwoo never did anything without calculating all his moves beforehand, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the true reason, more so if he was going to find out soon anyway. His suspicions were confirmed when he caught sight of you. He should’ve known that this was just another one of Wonwoo’s ways to get to you.

Vernon didn’t understand your relationship with Wonwoo, scientifically it didn’t make sense. In simple terms Wonwoo was hated by everyone and you on the other hand were not. But the two of you had snuck around for years up until the accident five months ago. Ever since then Wonwoo’s spirits were low and he was going mad. If he wasn’t holed up in his tiny room at the apartment he was bent over a desk mumbling to himself, trying to come up with ways in which he could see you again. All of Wonwoo’s attempts before this one had failed and to say he wasn’t surprised to see you sit down, legs hanging over the edge of the grave while looking down at Wonwoo lovingly, he would be lying. Though, he supposed it had to do with the fact that Wonwoo’s grave was dug up.

“You guys having fun there?” Wonwoo jumped. He rapidly smoothed down his shirt, leaving behind streaks of dirt, and fixed his hair before turning around. A smug smile adorning his features. Vernon shook his head and rolled his eyes. Sometimes he missed the days in which Wonwoo wasn’t in love.

“Princess what brings you here?” He winked. His clammy hands grew more wet as he leaned against the shovel, before it failed underneath his weight causing him to trip. Seeing you again was like a breath of fresh air, the pictures he kept of you and looked at every night did you no justice. For you shined brighter than the stars in the night sky and it always made Wonwoo’s heart skip a beat.

“Cut the shit Wonwoo, I know you’ve been turning this city upside down at least once a week to get under my skin.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? You haven’t been answering my calls, texts or emails.” Wonwoo threw his hands up in disbelief and you rolled your eyes at his ignorance.

“Apologize, that’s all you had to do and you wouldn’t be here digging your own grave...literally.” You huffed crossing your arms in front of you, ripping your eyes away from his. Suddenly the memory of the accident came lingering back. You knew, given his nature, Wonwoo was calculated. He used his powers to affiliate pain on his victims without moving a muscle to get what he wanted. Though, he had never used it on you, until that night.

He had been blinded by rage and pain and you had never seen him use so much power in your years of knowing him. It scared you and when you had tried to coax him out of whatever state he was in. He did the one thing he promised he would never do.

He used his abilities on you.

Wonwoo sighed before hosting himself out of the hole and taking the empty seat next you. “I wanted to do it in person, but you never showed up.” He looked down at his hands playing with his fingers, twirling the ring on his pinky. His body was consumed with guilt as your screams of agony replayed in his head. Just like they did every night. He had never once felt anything but satisfaction and bliss whenever he used his powers on someone. In fact he loved the way his victims begged him to stop, that was until you were on the receiving end of his torture.

“You know where I live. It’s a big shiny tower in the center of town. Pretty hard to miss honestly.” The airy playfulness of your voice made his stomach swirl. He truly missed you and not just on nights when the two of you gently explored each other's bodies, but just in general.

“I know but you know how much I hate the others, especially Joshua. He always has to stick his nose into matters that don’t concern him.” He huffed, flicking a tiny spec of dirt off of his trousers. “And I was scared.” He confessed lowly, shocking Vernon who had now taken it upon himself to sit on the soil filled ground to watch the spectacle in front of him. Wonwoo never admitted his fears and though Vernon sometimes could feel them radiating off him. It was different hearing it come from his friend's mouth.

“Of Joshua? Dude’s only got super strength and-”

“No of you. I was scared to see you suffer and to turn me away. I was scared that if I did show up putting aside indifference for your friends just to hear you say that you didn’t love me anymore.” Wonwoo let out a deep sigh at the ending of his words. He dropped his shoulders feeling the weight being lifted off them. He felt your body shake next to him and it confused him greatly, even more so when it was followed by your laugh. Though he loved it and missed it greatly. He couldn’t deny the anger he felt towards you as you laughed at his vulnerability.

Slowly, he felt his heart close up again and brought himself up to his feet faster than he could blink. His feet moved faster than the doubt racing through his veins and your laughter came to a stop.

He now remembered why he swore to never love again all those years ago.

“Wonwoo, wait come back.” You hurried to your feet, smoothing down the creases on your leggings. Vernon copied your movements. He could sense the fear coming from your body, and it overwhelmed his senses. Behind his soft eyes he quietly told you to hurry before Wonwoo did something he wasn’t supposed to. Even though Wonwoo always did without planning ahead of time, there were a few instances where he didn’t care and acted carelessly. And he found himself fearing more for your heart rather than his friend's safety.

You sighed tugging on the sleeves of your sweatshirt before turning around and ran after the only man you had ever loved. You passed many tombstones, silently paying your respects until you stopped in the middle of a small clearing, home to one familiar tombstone and Wonwoo. His hands in his pocket, eyebrows furrowed and his teeth chewing down on his teeth.

“After she died, I promised her I wouldn’t love anyone again.” He whispered, “but then you came along and ruined it.” He turned his head, his eyes glossy with wanted tears. “Do you know how much I beat myself up every day for what I did to her. For what I did to you. I hate myself for it, I hate that I can inflict pain on everyone else but myself because I’m not one that should be suffering, not everyone else.”

By now he had finally let his tears go. They raced down his cheeks rapidly and it shattered your heart.

“It hurts me that you think that way about yourself. She didn’t die because of you, you tried to save her and-”

“I was too late.” Wonwoo snorted and rolled his eyes. He stared intently at the tombstone in front of him, reading his little sister’s name over and over again, letting it burn feverishly inside his mind. He missed her dearly and sometimes he wondered why you never told him anything about the conversations you would have with her whenever she visited you. But you had told him that it was a family secret between the two of you and he never questioned you again because you had used the word family and it made him feel all giddy inside.

“Let me talk Wonwoo.” You said closing the gap between you and Wonwoo. You grabbed his face in your hands and wiped away his tears with the pad of your thumb. He had always been there to comfort you on your lowest days. His sweet words and warmth grounded you back onto the Earth, but you had never gotten the opportunity to do the same to him. He always kept himself closed off and reserved. It had taken almost a year into your secret, not so secret relationship for him to tell you about his sister’s unfortunate death and a few more months after that for him to say that he loved you. Despite all those small passing moments of vulnerability he had never once cried in front of you.

“I love you and you’re stupid for thinking that I would love you any less because of what happ-”

“I hurt you though,” Wonwoo cut you off, earning a ground shattering glare from you that sent shivers up his spine. “Sorry you can continue.” He whispered.

“Thank you.” You smirked and wrapped your arms around his neck, making him freeze. You were the strangest person he had ever had the pleasure in knowing because normal people would never be as comfortable as you were in his presence. “I know the kind of person you are Wonwoo, through this cold exterior there is the most loving and sensible person I have ever known. I mean, baby, you spent a whole day sulking because you forgot to water your plant.”

“You gave me that plant for my birthday, therefore he’s our child.”

“This is exactly my point, you have the biggest of anyone I have ever known. Unfortunately, you have been dealt a bad hand in life and I really don’t understand your obsession with taking over the world. But you’re not a monster.”

“I hurt people though, sometimes for fun.” He whispered against your skin. In the midst of your speech he had given in and circled his arms around your waist before burying his face into the crook of your neck. Leaving the two of you in an awkward and uncomfortable position.

“And who are those people?”

“Bad people.”

“Exactly baby, they’re the scum of the Earth and you have helped stop them.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t make me a hero. I’m just doing what you guys can’t do. On top of that Joshua’s super strength is useless, he only gets praised because he’s hot.” Wonwoo finished and raised his head, smirking. He sent you a playful wink, tears long forgotten, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Mingyu takes forever to get ready, but that’s besides the point. You’re not a monster so stop treating yourself like one.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” He pouted batting his eyelashes at you.

“Yes you big idiot.”

“Then...why haven’t you kissed me yet?” He puckered his lips and made kissing noises, making you laugh. “Hey I’m waiting and you know I’m impatient.” He spoke through pouted lips as he leaned in closer, his lips hovered over yours teasingly until you finally caved and kissed him. He sighed happily against your mouth and deepened the kiss. He had spent five months without the feeling of your touch and it scared him that he would forget how it felt. Yet, now as he kissed you with everything in him he realized he hadn’t and it overjoyed him to the point in which he accidentally let out a moan; making you pull away quickly and eyeing him down.

“Control yourself, your sister, her friends and Vernon are here.” You scolded making him pout.

“I’m sorry, i just...I still remember the way you taste, and I got excited.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Before he could plant his lips on yours again he was met with your hand pushing him away. He whined as you tore his arms away from your waist, his body growing cold. “Nooo, one more kiss.” He reached out making grabby hands at you like a child. Instead of giving into what he wanted you turned and started walking away, “Wait, where are you going?” He stumbled against his own feet before following you.

“Home.” You looked over at him and stuffed your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. “You have a grave to cover up with Vernon.”

“But I haven’t seen you in five months, just give me five more minutes please.”

“Wonwoo you just didn’t look hard enough baby.” You said giving him a knowing smirk before leaning over, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. He felt his eyes grow in realization as everything started to click in his head. If what you had hinted was the truth and you had shown up to every single sight he had caused trouble in, then he had to give it to you. You were a lot more clever than you led on. “Don’t think about it too hard, I’ll leave my window open for you.” You smiled widely giving his cheek a pat and disappeared through the trees.

“You live on the twenty fourth floor.” He yelled after you, his hands falling down at his side in defeat. He heard someone snort next to him and suddenly he remembered that Vernon was there silently observing everything, just like always did.

“Figure it out baby, you always do.”

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

Text

Broken, battered, and beautiful-chapter 2

if you haven’t go check out chapter 1

“Oh hi.” even in the privacy of her own home elain was clothed in a fine dress made of satin, the color of sunflowers with a high neckline. Gwyn tried to muster up embarrassment for her own plain outfit that most definitely could have been mistaken for sleep wear, but she couldn’t find the energy to care.

“Hello, um I wanted to come by to say thank you for the other day.” Gwyn felt awkward and uncomfortable, this female had done nothing to wrong her and yet it was difficult to let the protective and territorial instincts go. Azriel was not hers, it was a mantra she replayed in her mind over and over. The words a double edge sword encouraging her to move on with a torturous truth.

“It’s no worry, I never would have left you on the ground at night” elain smiled warmly, “and besides nesta would have my head if something had happened to you.” gwyn gave her a tight smile, the most she could force herself to manage.

They stood in an unpleasant silence, the only sound being the soft anxious tapping of gwyns hand on her thigh, a nervous tick she had yet to break. thankfully after a couple dreadfully long seconds elain spoke, “would you like to come in?”

Gwyn let out a sigh of relief and gave a slight nod of her head. She then followed Elain into her home. As Gwyn's eyes roamed the place she felt as if she had stepped into the spring court, or what it used to look like, she supposed from what Feyre had told her about its current state.

Elain must have noticed her curious glance at the windows stretching from ceiling to floor with the sun blazing through them, “when I was looking for an apartment I wanted as much sunlight as possible,” she paused to reposition one of her many many plants. “For me” she paused once again, taking in the almost overwhelming amount of blossoms. “And the flowers. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a slight obsession with greenery.”

“Slight is a modest term.” gwyn noted. She laughed. The sound was sweet and full and covered the room in a joy that could not be masked. Gwyn wished she could say she couldn’t remember the last time she laughed like that, but she had. Darkness coated the once joyous memorie, infecting it with anger and malice. Pain was soon to follow but Gwyn shoved it down, pressing a lid on her emotions, better to feel nothing at all then the heartbreak of what she had lost.

Elain quickly picked up a few scattered papers on her table and pulled out a seat for gwyn. “Would you like some tea? Emerie gave me a few samples but I haven’t had the chance to try them yet.”

“I would recommend the strawberry green tea, personally I think it’s her best, though most of them are… editable.”

She raised an eyebrow “most?”

“Well for Emerie's sake I’ll let you form your own opinions but between you and me, I’d keep a safe distance from the lemon ginger.”

Elain looked amused. “I will keep that in mind.”

gwyn watched as elain made the tea quietly humming to herself. She set down the cup in front of her, “one strawberry green tea.” Gwyn gave a nod of gratitude before quickly realizing that that was a poor response. God had she lost her manners along with her dignity.

“Thank you.”

Once again silence fell over them, the conversation they had both known gwyn had come for hung in the air, hovering, waiting for a moment to strike. But Gwyn had made a promise to Catrin, a promise to her found sisters, and a promise to herself that she would be brave.

“What happened between you and azriel?” she blurted. Elain took a deep breath before answering, everything about her expression and posture, unsurprised by the question.

“In order to really understand, I would have to start from the beginning. Are you positive you want to hear the truth?”

No. yes. No. She did not want to hear, she desperately did not want to hear but she had to know. “Yes.”

Elain nodded, “It’s been about four years since I became fae and the subject still isn’t my-favorite, but four years ago I was engaged to a man named grayson. Looking back he was truly dreadful and a little bit of a tool. But I was in love, or.” Elain’s cheeks flushed slightly. “what I thought was love. He truly hated the fae and when I became the one thing he hated more than he loved me, his love quickly became fear and his fear fueled his hatred. I was dependent on others, in more ways than one. And with my world being literally and figuratively turned upside down, the one person who was supposed to love and support me through it all, abandoned me without hesitation. Although the argument could be made that I was coddled my entire life and this was a much needed wake up call.” Elain paused, letting out a shaky breath.

“If this is too difficult for you we can stop.” As much as Gwyn needed to hear this story she would not force Elain to relive her trauma.

“I owe it to you and to my sister to avoid bad blood between us and if telling you this story is what it takes, then that is the least I can do.” She took a sip of her tea. “Now I knew I had just lost who I thought was the love of my life and then I was forced into the hands of another.”

Her stepbrother, she thought. “Lucien.”

“Yes,” elain smiled fondly. “He was my breaking point. All I wanted was to collapse into myself, to pretend that I was still human. But with him I couldn't. He was a walking reminder of everything I hated about myself. The only thing that haunted me more than him was my own reflection. I thought that if I avoided him I could ignore the magnetic pull that drew me to him.” She looked down and bit her lip. “Denial was a personal favorite of mine.”

Gwyn raised her eyebrows. “I can tell.” she watched as color flooded her cheeks and Gwyn's lips twitched.

“But it was proving to be a little more difficult than I had expected. And then there was this dark, attractive male who seemed to be intrigued by me. He was kind and he was there so I forced myself to believe I had genuine feelings for him, that I desperately wanted him.” Gwyn's stomach lurched but she forced it down. “He was a perfect distraction, there were these small moments where our fingers would brush or I would find him looking at me as if he desired me. I needed so badly to believe that this was what I wanted and yet I felt nothing. I thought that becoming fae had broken me. I made up my mind that if I kissed him, the feeling I craved would come. So at solstice, when I knew there was no way for him to avoid me, I gave myself an opening and waited until after dinner to give him his gift. He gave me a necklace and kissed my neck. We were moments away from, well you know, when he left very suddenly. I was confused and a little bit hurt and I still felt nothing. So I followed him, and well” elain let out a bitter laugh. “Let's just say Azriel said some rude things.”

Gwyn’s face was one of constant shock as elain told her the shadowsinger’s conversation with the high lord of the night court. “The only thing he could say about you was Three Brothers, Three Sisters?!?”.

“Yep.”

“He thought he was entitled to you because his brothers were mated to your sisters?!? Even though you had a mate??”

“Exactly”

“And you guys were so not on the same page, you guys weren’t even in the same gods damn book.”

She laughed. “I guess that’s what happens when you don’t communicate.” Gwyn's thoughts were a cage of her own making, one she couldn’t escape. She was outraged on behalf of elain, how dare azriel make some sort of claim on her, she was not a toy to be passed around. But she couldn’t help but think first Mor than Elain, what the hell was she to him? Had it all been a game of pretty words and sweet lies? Was she just one of many?

“Anyway, I decided that the distraction wasn’t worth putting myself through whatever was going on with him so I gave him back the necklace. I assume that he saw you sometime that night or in the next few days because I saw you with the necklace a couple weeks later. I know that I did not have the right to be upset considering I gave it back but, for me, it confirmed that my decision was the right one.”

Azriel had, in fact, come to her that night Gwyn thought back to solstice 2 years ago. It was the first time she had been alone with him, It was the first time she'd been alone with any male since.

“Azriel and I barely spoke or interacted since solstice when a couple weeks ago, when I was shopping in town I saw him so drunk he could barely walk. I’d seen him with you a couple times and it seemed like he had changed so I went to go help him and he tried to kiss me. I slapped him and walked away. The next day he came by my apartment and begged me not to tell you. I told him I owe him nothing and closed the door in his face.”. She didn’t owe Gwyn anything either and yet she still defended her. “I then told Nesta what had happened and asked her to tell you.” elain took another sip of tea. “I thought it would have been better if it came from her.”

Gwyn watched elain, even doing something as mundane as drinking her tea, in this house, she looked more peaceful and in her element as she had ever seen her. Gwyn was also positive this was the most she had ever heard her talk and despite a part of her still wanting to rip her head off, she was grateful for the female and she was sympathetic for what she had gone through, and she was embarrassed for not seeing this side of azriel.

“I’m sorry.”

A puzzled look graced elain’s face. “What for?”

“For what you went through, for whatever part I played in your pain.” she chuckled at that.

“You did nothing wrong, besides if anyone should be apologizing it should be me.”

Gwyn snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

“How about it should be azriel apologizing to the both of us.”

“Deal”

elain looked out the window. “Oh speaking of solstice, I have to do my gift shopping.” she glanced at Gwyn, something in her gaze she couldn’t detect, maybe pity, maybe spite from an old grudge, maybe it was genuine, maybe a mix. Whatever it was made her ask, “would you like to come with me?”

And even if it was pity or spite, even if all elain saw was a broken toy in need of saving, she said “yes.”

tagging: @stars-and-scripts @valkygwyn @em---r @whereisvaughan @purplecherrypie @lattristantketchup @bookish-isha @meher-sumedha @jennysofoldstone @ratabrasileira

#gwynlain #gwyn berdara #elain archeron #let me know if you want to be tagged or removed #gwynriel #elucien #I'm not going to lie I kind of enjoy shitting on azriel

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heliads · 4 years

Text

Can’t Leave

Y/N is a HYDRA scientist. Pietro Maximoff is her latest patient. Will Y/N be able to keep Pietro safe in the HYDRA base, even when her own life is in danger?

masterlist

You stare at the ceiling, exhaling softly. Machines beep and whir behind you, and you try to remember everything you were supposed to do before the soldiers arrived. Have needles ready for blood transfusions, check. Make sure the x-ray scanners are functioning, check. Have all the necessary documents and paperwork that are scattered about your desk, check. This is the life of a HYDRA scientist- procedure after procedure.

You weren’t always like this, someone wishing fervently that the end of the day would come so they could block out everything that had just happened from their mind. When things had gotten bad all those years ago, HYDRA had come knocking and you had, unfortunately, answered them. It wasn’t entirely your fault- you needed a way to support your family and HYDRA needed a new scientist. The deal could practically sell itself. It doesn’t matter that you were forced to take part in procedures that weren’t exactly up to the proper ethical standards, or that although the job was advertised as ordinary you knew you would be killed the second you put up your two weeks’ notice. HYDRA was your life now, and you would do well to stand by it.

A knock at the door distracts you from your gloomy thoughts. “Come in.” You call, and the soldiers you’ve been expecting march in, dragging with them one unconscious man. He appears to be about your age, and he’s clearly been drugged so he would be easier to transport. The soldiers strap the man into a hospital bed and then march out just as quickly, leaving behind a few men as guards in case this particular patient tried anything too risky.

You prepare a few sensors and apply them along the man’s arms and legs, then turn to a nearby screen. As the man begins to stir and wake, you study his vital signs. All seems well, except for the fact that his heart is beating far faster than any normal human man. This is to be expected- Pietro Maximoff has been given superhuman abilities, and so he will behave as superhumans do.

The man is fully awake now, and watches you with furtive eyes as you ignore him in favor of studying the readouts in front of you. You prepare a needle, then turn to him. “This is a penicillin shot. It will help with your recovery.” The man looks at you in confusion. “You know, for a HYDRA doctor you seem less crazy than the others. Are you actually a doctor or have they brought in a nurse to placate me and make it seem like HYDRA’s doing the right thing?”

One of the guards struts over to Pietro and glares down at him. “I would advise you to hold your tongue, Maximoff. Remember that you signed up for this.” Pietro returns the glare. “I remember that I was a little forced for a volunteer. Tell me, are all your human test subjects kidnapped or are you just low on new victims.” The guard draws his fist back to strike Pietro, but you fling out a hand to stop him.

“Corporal! The goal is to check on his vitals, not try to damage him. Please return to your post by the door.” The guard looks at you with blank eyes. “He insulted you as well as HYDRA. He deserves punishment.” You shake your head calmly. “The procedures you’ve asked me to run do not involve the protection of my ego. They should not involve yours either.” The guard gives Pietro one last icy look, then storms off to stand beside the other guard on the far side of the room.

Pietro looks up at you in bewilderment, then speaks softly. “Why did you do that?” You glance over at him bemusedly. “Do what?” Pietro looks back at the guard, making sure he can’t be heard. “Why did you stop him? No other doctors would have intervened, no matter how healthy they were supposed to be keeping me.” You laugh softly. “I may work for HYDRA, but I’m not completely a monster. I didn’t want to see you get beaten when you were literally tied down.”

Over the next few days, you continue to check in on Pietro. You run his vitals, you give him necessary injections to make sure the newly given powers won’t kill him, and you find time to have conversations with him. You’re not quite sure why you’re so drawn to this metahuman, but the look in his eyes when he sees you is enough to make you realize that he depends on you not only for physical strength, but to make sure he has one bright light in his otherwise dark existence.

A few weeks after the final procedures have taken place, it’s time to start testing what he can do. Pietro refuses to work with any doctors other than you, saying that it’s because the others were more interested in their own gain than actually trying to help him. The HYDRA higher-ups bought it, but you know that in reality, Pietro wants to make sure he uses his powers in front of someone who won’t torture him if he doesn’t do exactly what is wanted of him.

One day, though, he comes into your training session with a wretched look on his face. You walk over to him quickly. “What’s wrong?” Pietro just sighs disgustedly. “All these chemicals they’re forcing into me- they’re not just affecting my mind, now they’re affecting my body, too.” You look at him closer, and realize that he does not look well. He has dark circles under his eyes, his skin looks pale and waxy, and his hair is turning a bleached white.

You frown at him sadly. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll see if there’s any way I can reduce the medications or something to stop that from happening.” You look back at him, a smile starting to form across your lips. “I do like the new look, though. Blond suits you.” He laughs at that. “Good to know.”

Sooner than you’d like, you get a tip-off from a commander that the Maximoff twins will be pulled to take part in some mission, and they won’t be back for a while. You do your best to finish Pietro’s training, making sure that he’ll be able to defend himself if necessary. You hope against hope that he won’t see danger, that he’ll come back to you unharmed.

You shake your head confusedly. Why are you so worried about Pietro? He’s certainly not the first patient you’ve had, nor the first one you’ve been so deeply involved with. What is it about the light-haired man that makes you so captivated by him?

Pietro finds you the second he hears about his upcoming assignment. He says it’s just to make sure that everything is in order and there’s no worry of his organs shutting down or something, but you know why he’s there the second the doors close behind him.

“There’s no chance that I’m ever coming back. You know that- you have to request to be transferred to that base! If you find a way to make it there, at least I know you won’t be gone forever. You know what happens to metahumans on the missions as well as I do- if they ever come back, it’ll be after years. I need you to come.”

You sigh sadly. “Me transferring to that Sokovian base? Pietro, that’s out of the question. I can’t even request what floor of this complex to work in, let alone what base or what country. I appreciate your concern, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go by yourself. At least you’ll have Wanda there, right?” Pietro looks frustrated. “If you stay here by yourself, I won’t be able to protect you, from invasion or HYDRA soldiers alike. If you come with me, I know you’ll be safe.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “You protecting me? Pietro, are you listening to yourself? When they say you and your sister are the first of the metahuman soldiers, they mean the first to survive the procedures, not the first attempts. I have been saving your life since day one, even if you didn’t realize it. If I go with you, I endanger you because HYDRA will realize that you’re important to me and they’ll find some way to punish you for it.”

Pietro scoffs. “That’s right- don’t want to upset HYDRA. Will your job be on the line?” You look at him with an icy glare. “You think I wanted any of this- that I could just walk out at any time? When I first ‘joined’, my family was on the brink of starvation. If I wanted to save their lives, I had to take HYDRA up. Also, it wasn’t exactly my choice- you tell me whether threats at gunpoint sounds like a comfortable interview to you. I can’t leave this life, no matter what.”

Your tone takes a softer tone. “But you can. When you’re out there, in the base, you’ll probably have fewer guards. Promise me that you’ll try to find a way out. Whatever they’re going to ask you to do, you don’t want to do it. I can guarantee you that.” Pietro takes your hands and pulls you close to him. “I can’t leave you, Y/N.” You look at him, enjoying your last few moments with the man you’ve grown to love. “You have to. Promise me you’ll try to escape?” Pietro sighs, then presses a kiss to the top of your forehead. “I promise.”

After the Maximoff twins are shipped off to the HYDRA research base in Sokovia, you don’t hear anything about them for weeks. You’re given a new project, but somehow you can’t find the energy to be as involved with it as before. When you finally hear that the twins won’t be coming back, you’re not sure whether to be relieved or nervous. Are they safe, or were they discovered? Have they escaped HYDRA’s chains, or were they caught in the act and killed?

Every now and then, you find yourself trapped in a dream. It’s not quite a nightmare, just scraps of memories plucked from your mind and dragged in front of you. You can see yourself working with Pietro, laughing excitedly over his new powers. When you wake up, you can still feel the smile on your lips from that day all that time ago.

You push the thoughts from your head, forcing yourself to get up and get on with the day. Those times are over, and they won’t be coming back. Just as you’re about to head out to the HYDRA labs, you hear a knock on the door. Confused, you go to answer it, and are stunned when you see the blond man waiting for you. “Pietro?”

He casually saunters in. “Miss me?” You laugh and throw your arms around him. “Are you really here?” He looks at you with a smirk. “I got some good advice that I should try and find new job opportunities outside of HYDRA. I’ve come to offer you something like that.” You meet Pietro’s eyes, surprised. “What are you talking about?” His grin could outshine the sun. “There’s a little place I found in the outskirts of Sokovia, somewhere HYDRA won’t be able to find us. I think it’ll work perfectly. All I have to do is one more job for this robot guy, and we’ll be able to live our lives just as we want to.” You beam at him. “Sounds perfect.”

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff imagines #quicksilver #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagines #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagines #age of ultron

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professional-idiocy · 3 years

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On Thin Ice - pt. 3

Yeah yeah, I’m slow with stuff. In my defense test week was a bitch and math SUCKS. Especially when you have to deal with this sadistic program called ViLLE that’s supposed be “helpful” with teaching math. If you ever see that name run for the hills.

Pt. 1, Pt. 2 - Next

Taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain, @whoopsalittlewhumpy, @uncooly-supreme-whump

TW: Mentions drowning and burns. Colby is a huge mess with a lot of issues with self-worth. Also torture cause Rosa is a bitch

Kevin didn’t know what to think. He was sitting on his couch with a sleeping villain snuggled close. He sighed continuing to pet Colby’s hair. At least he didn’t hate him. If he’d just gotten lost earlier Colby wouldn’t have been tortured for months.

He was in way over his head. He didn’t know anything about treating injuries. He’d just copied something he’d seen on TV! He was severely underqualified for this. He was a journalist, he wrote articles, he wasn’t exactly the best for whatever this situation was.

He needed to think. He had a person who’d been tortured. He had evidence of the injuries and the condition he’d found Colby in. He also had evidence it was a hero who’d done this.

He needed to get a doctor to look at Colby. That would definitely be important. Where would he even find a doctor? Especially someone who wouldn’t mind Colby was a villain…

Selena! That was it. She had a doctor friend who would probably be willing to help them. He took out his phone being careful to not wake up Colby continuing to softly pet his hair.

Kevin frowned when some dried blood got stuck in his hand. It made him feel horrible, his sister had done all this. His sister had tortured someone. It made him feel nauseous. Rosa had always stood up and protected him as a kid, but to do this to another person was horrifying…

Enough.

First, he’ll help Colby, and later he needed to ask his sister to explain why he would hurt Colby. Right now the best way to help Colby was to get a doctor here.

He sent Selena a message. He really hoped it wouldn’t go south.

Hey, I’m a pickle right now. Would your doctor friend be willing to help a villain?

I kinda took one in. He was tortured by a hero. Please don’t tell anyone. He’s really fragile rn. Also tell her I’m also willing to pay

Soon enough Selena responded, easing his worries.

You mean Ellie?

Knowing her she will gladly help, especially if the patient is a villain. I blame “the cat” for that.

I’ll text her number tomorrow once I’ve given her a heads up.

It’s 10pm so try to sleep

Kevin sighed in relief. Everything went well and he was also getting tired. He should definitely sleep while he had the chance. The couch was decently comfortable, and he really didn’t want to wake Colby up. He yawned softly while Colby clung to him, sleeping contently.

Kevin shot up hearing a soft yelp combined with a thud. He scanned the room only to find Colby on the floor trembling while crying.

“I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to fall asleep, a- and I’m sorry for waking you up. I didn’t mean to. Please- please believe me I’m sorry” Colby begged kneeling on the floor. Kevin frowned muttering curses under his breath. Rosa had done a number on him and he hated it.

“It’s fine, you aren’t in trouble. I know you must be really stressed but believe me you aren’t in trouble” Kevin said as softly as possible, hoping to get a more positive reaction out of Colby, which it did. Well, to some extent. He fearfully waited before sniffing and wiping away tears.

“I’m sorry”

“I know. Do you wanna get onto the couch for me?” Kevin said softly, trying to get the terrified villain to trust him.

“I can stay on the floor, sir” Kevin frowned at that but as soon as he showed even a hint of displeasure Colby seemed to freeze in fear. He quickly scooped Colby up before sitting him on the couch.

“There you go. It’s much better, right?” Kevin asked as Colby nodded still keeping an eye on him, worried he’d done something wrong.

“I’m going to go make breakfast. Do you have any allergies?” Colby shook his head as Kevin smiled softly petting his hair, which he seemed to enjoy a lot. If leaning into the touch was anything to go by. He got up, leaving for the kitchen, doing his best to ignore how sad Colby looked, making him feel like he’d just abandoned a kitten.

He sighed once he was sure Colby wouldn’t hear or see him. This was going to be a lot of work, but Colby was adorable. First, he needed food for both, then get Colby to take a bath, call Ellie and ask if she could come and take a look at Colby.

Sandwiches would do, right? It’s not like he had anything else here, he was supposed to go to the store yesterday, but Colby had kinda ruined that plan, besides he can just order takeout. He smiled at the sandwiches, they looked like crap. He wasn’t the best in the kitchen, but it would have to do for now.

Colby really didn’t know what to think. Kevin had been so nice even when he’d done something wrong. Miss Rosa would’ve never forgiven him for assuming anything. Instead, Kevin had gently pet his hair and now was making breakfast. He really wanted to know how he needed to repay it all.

He jumped back to awareness when Kevin came back with four sandwiches on two different plates. He tilted his head curiously as Kevin smiled handing him a plate. He held onto the plate confused as Kevin sat next to him eating. Colby mimicked his actions before carefully taking a bite out of the sandwich.

He couldn’t help but to smile. It was amazing and tasted so good! He really wanted to repay him already. If he didn’t, he would be horrible and selfish. He gulped the sandwich down before carefully turning to Kevin. He didn’t know what Kevin wanted for this. He froze as Kevin just pet his hair smiling softly. It was nice.

Colby took the other sandwich, carefully trying to stuff it on Kevin’s plate. Maybe Kevin would like it if he gave him the food back? He was full anyway and didn’t deserve this much. Kevin smiled as Colby finally got the sandwich to fit.

“Are you full already?” Kevin asked softly and Colby nodded. He smiled taking the sandwich and putting it back on Colby’s plate, much to his surprise, but he didn’t hopefully let it show.

“You know you can save the sandwich for later. You don’t need to give it to me” Colby let his expression slip into one of surprise before nodding. So that wouldn’t work. He couldn’t just give his food to Kevin. So, he needed to find another way to repay him for the mercy he’d been shown.

“I- I can take care of the dishes” Colby said, trembling softly. He needed- no he wanted to be useful.

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it, after I’ve prepared a bath for you and then we’ll check on the wounds” Kevin said as Colby nodded quickly before he could hesitate. Kevin got up leaving for what Colby assumed was the bathroom.

He sat on the couch, mind racing through all the scenarios. A bath meant water and Kevin could use water to hurt him in so many ways. Kevin could hold his head underwater and he knew he was too weak to resist. Cold water could cause shock and hypothermia, but if the water was too hot, he’d be burned.

He deserved it though, unlike the people he’d hurt for Alaric. He was just doing as ordered but he’d hurt people. He didn’t even remember their names or faces. They were all just people Alaric had wanted information from.

Miss Rosa was right.

He really was a monster.

A simple “Are you alright?” broke through his thoughts making him snap into attention. No-one had asked that before. It made him feel warm and fuzzy.

“I mean, you were crying just now” Kevin said softly as Colby blinked before quickly wiping the tears away.

“I’m fine” he whispered weakly as his voice escaped him. Kevin smiled ruffling his hair. Maybe he just needed to be small and cute for Kevin? He did seem to like it when he snuggled close. It that was the case, he really didn’t mind the warmth and closeness of another person.

“Alright then. I got the bath ready, but do you need help? I mean you can barely walk” Kevin asked awkwardly as Colby watched him carefully.

“I can’t put much weight on my legs, but I’ll be fine. You don’t have to waste your time with me”

“Alright” Kevin said picking Colby up who clung to him in surprise “I already prepared everything and left clothes you can borrow” Colby nodded clinging to Kevin in confusion. He didn’t really know what Kevin wanted and it was best to not speculate too much. He knew for a fact Kevin wanted him to be entertaining thanks to Miss Rosa’s clue since he’d be returned when he became boring.

He needed to avoid that.

Kevin sighed taking a sip out of his tea. He really didn’t know a thing about this. He’d called Ellie who’d promised to come tomorrow to take a look and give him some advice. It was reassuring but he really hoped Colby was fine he’d left him to take care of himself. He should be fine, but it still worried him. Colby was practically helpless in his current state.

As soon as he thought that he heard a soft thud just outside the bathroom. He put his tea down on the table rushing to the bathroom only to see Colby on the floor, helplessly looking up at him. He’d never noticed it before due to all the dried blood, but he was way too thin! He was literally nothing but skin and bones!

Was his sister always this cruel?

It was disgusting to think Rosa would do something like this. His thoughts were brought to a halt as Colby looked up at him in terror before beginning to cry and apologize for bothering him.

He looked so small and fragile as the too large shirt kept slipping off his shoulder. Why would Rosa hurt someone like him? He looked so small and young as he trembled looking at him in terror.

Wait, did Colby think he was mad at him?

Shit.

He knelt in front of Colby as he watched in fear of something. This whole situation made him feel terrible, confused, and icky. He needed to do something.

“Shhh, it’s fine you did nothing wrong” he said softly as Colby just kept crying softly still apologizing. He reached out to run a hand through Colby’s hair only for Colby to suddenly cling to him.

“Please, I know I might be a bit troublesome but please don’t give me back to Miss Rosa. I’ll promise I’ll do my best to repay you” He begged clinging to him, Kevin held him close, gently wiping away Colby’s tears as he watched silently in a mix of surprise and fear.

“It’s fine. I’m not giving you back to her, ever” He said as Colby breathed a sigh of relief before snuggling closer to Kevin. He would never let this precious bean be hurt again.

#whump #whump writing #original whump #On Thin Ice #you're stuck in here with me pal #implied torture tw #torture tw #villain whumpee #civilian caretaker #hero villain whump #original writing

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little-diable · 4 years

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All I need - Jasper Hale (fluff)

Request by anon: A Jasper fluff where they haven't seen each other in a while because the cullens when to visit the Denalis in Alaska and then he comes back after 3 weeks and sees how much she missed him and fluff ensures?

Maybe some of you know “avelynch” on Tiktok, found this song of hers, she posted it 2 days ago. The lyrics in the beginning are hers. Enjoy my loves. xxx

I wish I could remember what it feels like to touch your skin And what your voice sounds like in person I know FaceTime can distort it and I miss it And I’m sick of kissing you in my head Oh baby tell me when can it be real instead cuz I would do anything to be close to you again and its hard being here half empty when somewhere different is my favorite part of me if I could just hold you for real that's the only thing I’ll need Baby that's all I need All I need

Jasper had been away for a few days by now, off to Alaska, to visit the Denalis with his family, leaving (y/n) behind in Forks, knowing that they’d struggle with a human being near. The pair had never been away from each other for that long, (y/n) seemed to realize, that she was struggling quite a lot, without him by her side. Even though they’d talk almost everyday via FaceTime, it just wasn’t the same, she longed for his touch, for his calming words every time she’d wake from a nightmare, time couldn’t go by fast enough, she needed him near, he was like the oxygen she’d need to breathe.

Snow was covering her garden in a white, thick blanket, Christmas was nearing, it would be the first time in three years, that she’d spend it without him by her side. Her heart was clenching as she thought of having to celebrate her favorite holiday, without the Cullens near, it just wouldn’t be the same, no matter how much her parents would try to cheer her up. She thought about mailing Jasper his present, but he’d be home a few days after Christmas anyways, (y/n) didn’t want to miss the smile on his face as he’d unwrap her present.

“I just miss you.” she was laying on her side, phone placed next to her pillow, eyes focused on Jasper, he was sitting on the sofa, holding his phone in front of his face, he hated to be that far away from her, just like (y/n), he was struggling a lot more, than he had once thought, without her near, he was already counting down the days, till his departure, finally leaving for Forks. “I miss you too darlin’. Look, there’s Alice.”, he pointed the phone in his sisters direction, trying to ignore the wave of guiltiness that overcame him as he watched tears well up in her eyes.

(Y/n) was sitting in the middle of her room, the soft fabric of her carpet was rubbing against her legs, soft music was blasting from her speakers, calming her down. She was currently trying to wrap up her presents, hands holding onto Jaspers, fingers moving across the fabric of the leather cover of the notebook, knowing how much Jasper liked to write down his thoughts, things that would haunt him at night, memories he made with (y/n), literally anything, that was roaming around in his mind.

“Food is ready.”, her mom called from the kitchen, it was Christmas evening, (y/n) was dressed in a beautiful dress Alice had gifted her for her last birthday, a tight smile on her lips as she tried not to think about the Cullens too much. With a sigh she sat down at the table, not noticing the way her parents were smiling at each other, almost chuckling, taking in her almost tortured seeming appearance. Both of her parents were totally obsessed with Jasper and his family, they were extremely grateful for the way they cared for their daughter, how much they supported her and loved her like one of their owns.

Her mother was intensely watching the clock, not keeping herself from smiling brightly as the door bell finally rung, (y/n)s head snapped upwards, “who is that?”, annoyance clear in her voice. It wasn’t fair, that her parents had invited somebody, while she couldn’t invite Jasper, why did fate hate her that much? She felt like a whiney little child, (y/n) rose from her seat and walked towards the door, today was definitely not her day.

Golden eyes found hers, “merry Christmas darlin’.”, she was full on sobbing, jumping into his arms, “what are you doing here?”, (y/n) sobbed against his neck, not letting go of him anytime soon. “I couldn’t keep away any longer, knowing how much both of us would suffer on Christmas evening without being close to one another.”, he kissed her forehead, stepping into her house, greeting her parents with a loving hug.

The four of them were seated around the dining table, talking about all and nothing, (y/n)s fingers were interlaced with Jaspers, eyes completely focused on his handsome features. “Why don’t you go upstairs and pack a few things?”, (y/n) and Jasper would spend some days at the Cullens mansion, enjoying some time alone as his family was still staying with the Denalis. (Y/n) couldn’t shake off the massive smile on her lips, ready to make up for the past three weeks.

His hands were wrapped around her waist, (y/n) was laying on top of him, head placed against his chest, eyes drawn to the tv, watching one Christmas movie after another, “I love you”, he pulled her in for a kiss, eyes full of love and adoration, it felt good to be home again, knowing that “home” was wherever his mate was.

#Jasper Hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twiilfight imagine #the Cullens #Jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock imagine #jackson rathbone #cullen #hale #jasper hale fluff

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

I know this is controversial but do you have any johnlock non-con or (preferably) dub-con for the twisted minds out there? If it's roleplay even better. If you don't do this sort of stuff just ignore me.

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, I usually don’t so I don’t have a lot of personal recs (more… it just happened in the fic and it’s a side issue), but I’ll give you the ones I have bookmarked as well as the ones I have on my MFL list, if only to bloat this list a bit more, LOL.

Cheers, and as always, if anyone has some recs, please let us know!

NON-CONSENT / DUBIOUS CONSENT

See also Alexx’s Lists:

John bottoms, Dub-con - Johniarty, Johnlock, Johncroft

Alpha!John, Omega!Sherlock & the Dub-con sex

Dubcon Johnlock

Drugged Non-con sex

Johnlock non-con and dub-con sex

And my alternate list: Consent and Relationship Negotiations

Upon Waking by joolabee (E, 3,901 w., 1 Ch. || Mild Dub Con, Magical Realism, Angst, Somnophilia) – It sets on slow: John can only be awake while Sherlock sleeps, and vice versa. Their lives are codependent, but never meeting. Like a set of scales.

A Certain Kind of Hunger by MapleleafCameo (E, 5,881 w., 1 Ch. || Magical Creatures || Incubus!John, Worried Sherlock, Tail Penetration, Somnophilia, PWP, Threats of Non-Con) – A concerned Sherlock watches as John seems to be rapidly losing weight. What he discovers is that John really isn't normal. And he is very, very hungry. The tail was the real surprise.

Caves in the Mountains Are Seldom Unoccupied by starrysummernights & TheMadKatter13 (E, 7,925 w., 1 Ch. || Were-Creatures, Werebear John, Pseudo Bestiality, Rimming, Dub Con, Rough Sex, Come Inflation / Eating, Size Kink, PWP, Bratty Sherlock, Rutting) – “This isn’t something to play at, Sherlock,” he snapped. “If it doesn’t work out- what you’re asking of me- we can’t shrug and say 'oh well, at least we tried'. If we do this… I could seriously hurt you. Do you understand? I could lose control. I could… I could kill you.”

On the Losing Side by missselene (E, 8,210 w., 1 Ch. || Anal / Oral, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Mild Dub Con / Drunk John) – After Mary's death, John moves back into Baker Street, but is still upset at the loss of his wife and child. Eventually, he and Sherlock stumble into a sort of relationship, but it's more physical than anything and they don't talk about it. They especially don't talk during sex. If they are going to have sex, Sherlock notices the signs hours beforehand, and he prepares carefully. The lights are off, they're under the covers, he prepares himself using lots of lube so he can make it feel as much like a woman as he can, and he doesn't let himself make any noise so that, if John wishes, he can pretend that he's still with Mary.

Better Than One by Innerspace (E, 14,760 w. 1 Ch. || Threesome, Self-cest / Clone Sex, First Time, BJ’s, Power Play, Slight Dub-Con) – Sherlock creates a clone and discovers things about himself and John he never imagined. John is just along for the ride, so to speak.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || Magical Realism, John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It's a lot less cracky than you're probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

A Love with No Name Series by aceofhearts61 (G to M, 49,955 w. across 20 stories || Asexual Sherlock / Straight John, Est. Rel, Queerplatonic Relationship, Romance, Cuddling, Fluff, Platonic Romance, Domestics, Rape/Non-Con) – In which Asexual!Sherlock and Straight!John are platonically in love life partners.

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,494 w., 5 Ch. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he's kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w., 31 Ch. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him. John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen

A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,869 w., 26 Ch. || Omegaverse / Prime Universe Crossover || OmegaJohn / AlphaSherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Angst, H/C, Dub Con, Humour) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn't he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.

MARKED FOR LATER

Three drinks or was it five by iriswallpaper (M, 1,455 w., 1 Ch. || Mild Dub Con / Drunk Sex, Morning After, First Time, Awkwardness / Awkward Sex, Idiots in Love, Avoiding The Talk™/Miscommunication, Fluff, Happy Ending) – Sherlock wakes up beside John, naked in his bed, after a night of getting hammered together on very good Scotch. Trying to spare John embarrassment, Sherlock makes as much noise as possible to indirectly wake John, all the while dreading the Very Important Talk he knows John will want to have.

Scars by Mildredandbobbin (M, 2,516 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TSoT/Pre-HLV, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Rape Aftermath, Past Torture, Pre-Slash) – On his honeymoon, John starts receiving anonymous texts with increasingly disturbing images. He discovers how much he doesn't know about Sherlock's time away. Part 1 of the Scars series

No Means No by lindor1306 (M, 3,606 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Underage / Non Con / Rape / Child Abuse, Dub Con, Drunkenness) – When Sherlock attends a party with John, he finds himself in a horribly familiar situation, and learns the meaning of the word 'No'.

Tumblr Mini-fics #7: Triskadekaphilia Fic Fest - The Johnlock Fics by berlynn_wohl (E, 3,791 w., 16 Ch. || First Time, Alley Sex, Dub. Con., Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, ABO Dynamics, Mpreg, Omega Sherlock, Sub Sherlock, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Chastity Device, Drugged Sherlock, Milking, Omega John, Experiments, Nudity, Yoga) – In March 2013, I celebrated 1300 Tumblr followers with my Triskadekaphilia Fic Fest. Followers requested a pairing and a kink, and I wrote a fill for each that was 13 sentences long, with one sentence that was 13 words long, and with one word that was 13 letters long. These are the resulting Johnlock fics. Part 7 of the Tumblr Mini-Fics series

If You Go Out in the Woods Today by Sexxica (E, 5,247 w., 1 Ch. || Fawnlock, Mythical Beings/Creatures, Teen John, Virgin John, Anal Sex / Fingering, Mildly Dub. Con., Bottom John, Top Sherlock, Outdoor Sex, Blow Jobs) – You're sure of a big surprise. 18 year old John Watson certainly didn't expect to stumble into the realm of a forest god, let alone one demanding payment in order to let him and his friend Mike leave.

Company by lookupkate (E, 6,004 w., 2 Ch. || BDSM Club AU || Dom John, Sub Sherlock, Soft Dom John, Mentions of Previous Bad D/S Relationship, Past Non-Con, Humiliation, Happy Ending) – Sherlock goes under cover to suss out an embezzler at a BDSM club. His past is marred by an ex-boyfriend who verbally abused him under the guise of a D/s relationship. What he thinks he needs is a little different than what he needs. Luckily he's placed with someone who can see how fragile he is, Dom John Watson. Once the case is over he realises how much he's going to miss the man. Damn.

Let's go home by thewallflower07 (M, 6,333 w., 2 Ch. || Post-S3, POV Lestrade, Cuddling, Snuggling, Protective John, Hurt/Comfort, Hospital, Restraint, Psychological/Physical Torture, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Non-Con Touching, Non-Con Drug Use, Kidnapping, Fever Dream/Hallucinations, Villain Mary) – Lestrade is driving John to the hospital and helps him bring a heavily injured Sherlock home. In a flashback Mary had kidnapped Sherlock and played her cruel tricks on him. Sherlock is walking through a weird London where nothing is logical and he sees a John Watson he no longer recognizes.

Splat! by Vulgarweed (E, 6,618 w., 1 Ch. || Historical Appalachian 1970′s AU || Dom / Sub, Gunplay, Knifeplay, “Non-Con” Roleplay, Switchlock, Anal, Rimming, Bondage, Hunting Kink, Rough Sex, Object Insertion, Dirty Talk, Comeplay) – Sherlock decides he does want to go hunting with John after all. But not for deer. Part 2 of the The Bone Fiddle series

Pulse by SoftTae (E, 6,620 w., 1 Ch. || Vampire AU || Vampire John, Human Sherlock, Dark John, Dub Con, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Blood Drinking, Anal, Light Bondage, Violent Sex, Biting, Vampire Sex, Angst, Preditor/Prey Dynamic) – This was written for a friend who asked for vampire John, and human Sherlock.

Black Cat by CatieBrie (E, 7,158 w., 1 Ch. || Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, Disturbing Themes, Body Horror, Sex, Major Consent Issues / Possible Rape, MCD, Intent Magic, Ambiguity) – He’s watching Sherlock crawl up his body, doesn’t have to see to know he has a blade tucked away somewhere, knows his body will react no matter what. “Do you know what this is, John?” Sherlock holds up a doll made of rudimentary cloth stuffed with god knows what. It’s wearing a crude rendition of John’s favorite striped shirt, denim pants and the hair is too fine and blonde-shocked-grey to be anything else but his.John tries to answer, has no voice, shakes his head. “It’s a poppet.” Sherlock explains, pushes the arms together and John’s limbs react, snapping to his sides and remaining there even as he tries desperately to struggle free.

Perception by orphan_account (M, 7,821 w., 1 Ch. || Rape/Non-Con) – John is perceptive sometimes.

A Chemical Defect Found (On the Losing Side Remix) by AreteArt (M, 7,978 w., 1 Ch. || First Time / Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Mildly Dubious Consent, Angst, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Pining, Anal / Oral Sex, Frottage) – A remix of missselene's "On the Losing Side." After Mary's death, John moves back into Baker Street. He and Sherlock stumble into a relationship, or something of that sort. Sherlock's rather giving when it comes to sex, but that doesn't mean he and John ever talk about it.

A Study in Asexuality by ladyxdarcy (M, 8,082 w., 1 Ch. || Asexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Acephobia, Mentions of Rape/Corrective Rape Therapy, Past Suicidal Ideation, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Overdose, Past Mary/John, Emotional Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Vulnerable Sherlock, Est. Rel., Angst with Happy Ending, Fluff) – When Sherlock, asexual to his core, fears that John may grow bored of a sexless life, he decides to do whatever it takes to make John happy so he stays. Good thing John is already happy.

as if not spoken to in the act of love by coloredink (E, 8,288 w., 1 Ch. || Dubious Consent, Codependency, Angst, Drama, Consent Issues) – Sherlock endures the indignities, bodies squirming against one another, the sweat, the saliva, because of John's jam in the fridge and sour-breathed kisses in the morning.

Making History by SaraDobieBauer (M, 8,622 w., 6 Ch. || Vampire AU || Season 1, Vampire John, Dark John, Bondage, Dub Con, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes lay unconscious and handcuffed to John’s bed. John had been waiting for this day ever since he’d first met the consulting detective. He'd been waiting for centuries really.

Slave by skadi_zlata (E, 15,654 w., 1 Ch. || Slavery AU || Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dub Con, Abuse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – In the gambling dens of a vaguely AU London, John Watson has won and lost fortunes in a night. One evening he winds up playing with entirely the wrong crowd, the kind of people that make him feel he’ll be lucky to get out of there with his life – let alone anything else. But the announced prize is somewhat unexpected. It’s an abused slave with dark curly hair and mesmerizing blue-grey eyes.

Kingdoms Rise by colbee (E, 15,668 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, References to Canon, Graphic Descriptions of Crime Scenes, Mentions of Rape) – "The name is Sherlock Holmes, and I broke in."

The Wench Is Dead by Chryse (E, 15,915 w., 1 Ch. || Underage, Extreme Dub Con, Flashback, Manipulative Relationship) – “You thought…not just you, Molly too. Probably everyone assumed it. You thought that bad things happened because I used drugs. That I made terrible choices and got myself hurt. And you weren’t wrong, not exactly. You just got it backwards.” What Sherlock put in the box. Part 2 of the Another Country series

Evidence of Human Life by thesardine (E, 16,906 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Rough Sex, Dubious Consent) – Sherlock's sanity deteriorates while he and John are stranded on a deserted island.

Broken Wings and Cigarettes by solisandluna (NC-17, 20,298 w., 10 Ch. || Violence, Abuse, Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sherlock Whump, Dark Story) – Sherlock has been missing for two years. So when he is found in a cellar, tortured and raped, how will John help him recover? Can he get over the shock and guilt of seeing his seeing his friend so abused? And can Sherlock be fixed?

A Question of Intent by Mildredandbobbin (E, 22,129 w., 6 Ch. || Omegaverse || Dub Con / Consent Issues, Misunderstandings, Knotting, First Time, Switching, Mating Cycles, Top/Bottom O!Sherlock, Top/Bottom A!John) – Sherlock was on the bed, naked, writhing, tangled in the sheets, on all fours and apparently in the full throes of a Heat. So very not good, the non-lizard part of John's brain was saying -- the enlightened 21st Century, reconstructed Alpha part, the part that supported Omega contra-heat, equality, pro-choice, the Omega rape legislation and general gender liberation. The part that knew Sherlock did not, obviously did not, want to copulate with him and certainly did not want to bond.

Consent by KeelieThompson1 (M, 26,466 w., 11 Ch. || OMC, Rape/Non-Con, Rape Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Developing Relationship, Triggers) – Sherlock has a difficult past regarding sex which John discovers when he tries to change their relationship.

Dubious by mslilylashes (M, 29,907 w., 14 Ch. || Rape/Non-Con, Dub. Con, Abusive Relationships, Victor Trevor) – John says every time Sherlock says 'stop' he will do so immediately. Sherlock knows that there is always a point that most men say they can't stop. The idea that John might be so much more than what Sherlock has come to expect from other men intrigues him, so he begins an experiment in consent. John begins to realise he is being tested, but he doesn't know why. (Does he ever when it comes to Sherlock?) All he knows is that something happened in Sherlock's past to make him think that what he wants or doesn't want doesn't matter in the bedroom. Then the nightmares start. Part 1 of the Dubious series

Lessons in Astronomy Series by CaitlinFairchild (E, 31,164 w. across 3 stories || Angst, Post S3, Grief/Mourning, Mildly DubCon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Oral/Anal Sex, Unrequited Love, Pining, Sibling Incest (No Actual Holmescest), Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Drug Addiction, Romance, Dev. Rel., Trust Issues, Happy Ending) – In a different time, a more naive time, Sherlock thought he was the star and John the satellite, circling him in worshipful orbit. He knows now that was never true. John was always the sun, bright and fierce, and Sherlock was the pale, cold moon, his only heat coming from the light he reflected. And then his sun went into supernova. Moriarty said he would burn him and he has, and John is the fire, his rage and grief incinerating Sherlock, burning the heart out of him in the end, turning him into nothing but cinder and ash. And now the supernova is collapsing, a black hole born where there was once warmth and heat and love, and Sherlock is being pulled down, down past the event horizon, into the endless frozen void where nothing can ever escape.

Unsettled by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy (E, 33,879 w., 10 Ch. || HIs Dark Materials AU || Daemons, Dark Themes, Non-Con) – Sherlock's dæmon hadn't settled. Once John realised that, so much made sense. Though so much else didn't, because it practically wasn't possible. Part 1 of the The Utmost Edge of Hazard series

The Half-Life of Love by Calais_Reno (E, 38,751 w., 12 Ch. || Dev. Rel. Angst with Happy Ending, Obsessive / Possessive Sherlock, Different First Meeting, Manipulative Mycroft, Drug Withdrawal, Rehabilitation, Pining, Mild Dub Con, Abusive Parents) – “Maybe we met too soon or at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances,” said John. Sherlock shrugged. “Hypothesis Contrary to Fact: none of these 'what ifs' happened, so it’s all pointless speculation. We did, in fact, meet at a specific time and place.”

Renegades by augustbird (E, 39,405 w., 12 Ch. || TRF AU, Dubious Consent, Torture, Drug Use) – Sherlock Holmes takes down Moriarty’s syndicate. He also takes John Watson with him. AU of The Reichenbach Fall.

Shadow by MapleleafCameo (M, 40,845 w., 11 Ch. || Rape/Non-Con, Supernatural Elements, Non-Con Kissing, Non-Con Touching, Dub Con, Implied Slavery, BAMF Molly, Angst, Creepy) – Invaders from an alternate universe, another dimension, invaders called Shadows have humanity fighting for their own survival. John, captured by the Shadows, has more to fight for more than he originally thought. Eventual Johnlock.

Defrag by 7PercentSolution (T, 43,748 w., 21 Ch. || Graphics Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Angst, Drug Use, PTSD Sherlock, Memory Palace, Case Fic, Mental Health Issues) – Sherlock's hard-drive needs to be cleaned up; viruses detected, malware files deleted, memory freed up, order restored. Follows on chronologically from Musgrave Blaze, but there will be enough back story to stand alone if you haven't read that yet. An important Part of the Game Theory Series. Part 4 of the Game Theory series

Silence by halloa_what_is_this (T, 44,993 w., 13 Ch. || The Piano Fusion || Victorian Sherlock, Dub Con, Voyeurism, Permanent Mutilation, Johniarty, Mute John) – In 1850, John is a mute young man forced to marry to save his father from indebtedness. His sister as his interpreter and his piano to keep him company, he travels to London to live with his husband James Moriarty. Without John's consent, James sells the piano to his friend Sherlock Holmes, who only asks for lessons from John in return. The lessons turn into a power play between the two when Sherlock proposes a deal: John may earn his piano back one key at a time, certain conditions attached. Part 1 of the Aborted Wings series

Mind the Gap by orphan_account (E, 45,089 w., 6 Ch. || Victor Trevor, Dubious Consent, POV First Person Sherlock, Character Development, Friendship, Pining Sherlock, Fluff, Introspection, Parent Death, Vulnerable Sherlock, Doctor John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Child Abuse, Implied Sexual Abuse, Domestic Abuse) – An introspective journey through the life and relationships of Sherlock Holmes. "I can hear the bones hum beneath pale and freckled skin, this sack that holds my form together. Bits and pieces that start at the bottom and end at the top, hiding the blood, muscle, fat. Cells, knit together, constantly in motion. They'll live and die, and replicate, until total equilibrium is met."

Vault by masterofall14 (M, 47,766 w., 23/31 Ch. || WiP || Loosely Inspired By Room, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Parentlock / Sherlock Has a Son, PTSD, Eventual Johnlock, Suicide Attempt, Pining John, Sherlock Loves John & Vice Versa, Big Brother Mycroft, Triggers, Creepy Magnussen, Happy Ending) – Jack lives in Room with his Pa, Sherlock. They share everything, except the secret that Jack isn't privy to... Room is in Appledore's vault. Magnussen and the woman his Pa calls the Wicked Witch visit when Jack sleeps and Jack can't explain where the bruising on his Pa's body comes from... But if they get out, how will they both cope after years of imprisonment? Even Sherlock, who can imagine nothing other than the four walls he has known for thirteen years...

The Night Is Darkest by missselene (E, 48,461 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TLD, Extremely Dub Con, S4 Rage Monster John, Insecure Sherlock, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Exploration, Healing, Self Care, Self Acceptance, Sexual Exploration, Casual Sex, Gentle Sex, Sherlock/OMC, Threesome with 2 OMCs, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Communication, Internalized Homophobia, Relationship Negotiation) – Sherlock Holmes would do anything for John Watson... and that includes letting John do whatever he wants to him. What would it take for Sherlock to stand up for himself and finally start taking care of his own needs?

Command Structure by 221b_hound (E, 49,034 w., 16 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post TRF / Not S3 Compliant, Dom/Sub Play, Dom John/Sub Sherlock, Oral/Anal, Anal Fingering, Frottage, Past Child Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Captain Watson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Slow Build, PTSD Sherlock, Consensual, Past Dub Con, Rimming) – Sherlock Holmes returns from his hunt to destroy Moriarty’s network. He comes home to John, and at long last they start this thing between them that couldn’t begin while Moriarty threatened them. But Sherlock has returned fractured and suffering anxiety attacks. He thinks he needs discipline - the whip - to help him focus and be strong. But his problems are deeper and run back to a childhood of neglect. John Watson is prepared to be Sherlock’s Captain, but he’s a doctor too. His command style isn’t about pain and subjugation. It’s about care and responsibility: and those concepts go in both directions in Captain Watson’s command structure.

Brotherly Bargain by xenobia4 (E, 50,187+ w., 17/19 Ch. || WiP || Rape/Non-Con Elements, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Abuse, Torture, Blood and Gore, Fisting, Dismemberment, Non-Con Oral, Object Insertion, Watersports) – A violent drug cartel abducts Sherlock Holmes after two of their operations in the UK have been shutdown. They upload the videos of torture online, gaining the attention of both the British government and Mycroft.

Musgrave Blaze by 7PercentSolution (T, 64,527 w., 28 Ch. || Equestrian, Country House, Series One, Murder Mystery, Case Fic, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con) – Mixing ACD canon, Sherlock and John are drawn to the rolling hills of Gloucestershire to investigate the mysterious disappearance of a horse, the death of its trainer, and the theft of a three-day eventing trophy from Musgrave Hall. Multi-chapter case fic that brings back some old memories for both men.

Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 (E, 69,042 w., 14 Ch. || Teen/Unilock || Forced to Share a Bed, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Relationship, Sherlock is a Prick, Drinking, Inadvertent Drug Use, Family Wedding, Footballer John / Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Frottage, Slow Burn, Mild Dub Con, Cuddling While Sleeping, Slight Homophobia, Posh Boy, Dirty Dancing, Endearments, Nosy FAmily, Bathing Together, Mild Angst, UST/RST, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff) – John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

Sherlock's Bane by toggledog (E, 70,095 w., 19 Ch. || Post-TRF, Rape/Non-Con, Rape Recovery) – John's friend, DI Toll, is brought onto a case involving murder and the destruction of a Mozart bust. He starts sexually harassing Sherlock. Toll being such a likeable guy, this appears to go unnoticed by everyone. Sherlock, himself just wants to work on the case and not cause trouble for John. However, the harassment starts getting more and more obscene…

Next Right: Welcome to Westbound Rest Area 818 by elwinglyre (E, 73,618 w., 16 Ch. || American Unilock AU || Bunk Beds, Anonymous Sex, Homophobia, Closeted John, Roommates, Angst with Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Music, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt John, BAMF John) – Sherlock Holmes dreams of escape from his smothering family and space to breathe. Studying chemistry at the University of Michigan, he's almost far enough away to fill his lungs. Almost. While John Watson dreams of being a doctor, he also dreams of being with another man. John knows that with hard work and study, he can make the first a reality, but he's certain the second can never be. Until a secret encounter in the dark at Rest Area 818 changes everything. When Sherlock meets his new roommate, John Watson, he sees a man in the closet. Sherlock hides from no one. Except from his own family, a detective inspector who wants his evidence returned, and his secret encounter at Rest Area 818. Setting late 1970s, Michigan, USA. POV third person alternates between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

Stranger at the Gate by bendingsignpost (E, 85,190 w., 11 Ch. || Vampire AU || Vampire Sherlock, John with a Sword, Hypnotism, Vampire Sex, Dub-Con, Lying Sherlock, Vampire Puberty) - As far as initiation rites go, kidnapping a human doctor from a defended town ought to seem extreme. When James Moriarty offers him the challenge, Sherlock never considers saying no.

A Study in Slavery by sweetinsane (M, 88,538+ w., 12/? Ch. || WIP || Dark / Slavery AU || ASiP, Angst, Domestic Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Slow Build, Dehumanization, Sexual Slavery, Child Abuse, Master/Slave Dynamics, Dark Content) – John has never owned a slave of his own, but after returning from Afghanistan is awarded one with his pension. A disobedient male slave with way too much troubling history, however, is not what he would have chosen himself.

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Split Personality Disorder, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

A Waste of Breath by Chryse (E, 95,452 w., 25 Ch. || References to Drugs, Dubious Consent, First Time, Friendship / Love, Hurt / Comfort, Angst) – John had always assumed Sherlock was uninterested, untouchable, married to his work. He was wrong on all counts. But when Sherlock embarks on a relationship, John worries that he is in over his head.. .and this time he might be right.

We're All A Little Mad Here by angelblack3 (E, 98,019+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Dark AU, Obsessive Behaviour, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Kidnapping, Dark Sherlock, Abusive Relationship, Bondage, Aphrodisiacs, Rape/Non-Con, Painplay) – In this universe, Jim got a hold of Sherlock way before he ever met the ones that were meant to save him. Now, they're happy business partners. Though, according to Jim, Sherlock isn't nearly as happy as he could be. He should find someone like Jim found his dear pet Sebby. Sherlock is skeptical, until he finds an army doctor with a psychosomatic limp in a twisted sense of fate.

Riptide Lover by jinglebell (E, 114,090 w., 20 Ch. || Merfolk & Victorian AU || Mermaid Sherlock, Human John, BAMF John/Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Mild Gore, Dubious Interspecies Consent, Stockholm Syndrome, Dark Romance, Dubcon and Morality, Rough Sex, Abstract Mentions of Rape, Size Queen, Switchlock, Foot Fetish) – The year is 1866. When John becomes swept overboard, he never expects to encounter a living creature of myth. When the merman absconds with John, the lost sailor must use every tool at his disposal to convince Sherlock not to kill him. But it seems that killing John Watson is not what the deadly, beautiful creature has in mind at all...

Thirst by bittergreens (E, 122,257 w. || Post TGG, POV John, Angst, Pining John, UST/RST, Masturbation, PTSD, Sexual Fantasy, First Kiss/Time, Nightmares, Frottage, Friends to Lovers, BAMF John, Mildly Dub Con, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Rain Sex, Voice Kink/Porn, Loud Sex, Rimming, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Case Fic, Baths / Bath Sex, Mild Gore, Psychological Torture, Fluff, Slow Burn) – When John realizes he has feelings for Sherlock and decides he must keep those feelings secret at all costs, the resulting tension might bring Baker Street to the ground.

"Merry Christmas" I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying "I love you" by starrysummernights (E, 135,132+ w., 30/31 Ch. || WIP || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) – John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again...and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

A Little Help from my Friends by Ttime42 (E, 140,776 w., 28 Ch. || BDSM AU || Switchlock, Fluff, Verbal Abuse, Bondage, Hospitalization, Military Kink, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Consensual, Punishment, Violence, Blood, Knives, Past Drug Use, Dub Con, Masturbation, Case Fic, PDA, Stalking, John’s Giant Junk, Aftercare, Kidnapping, Happy Ending) – In a world where everyone identifies as either a dominant or a submissive, Sherlock is having a rough time moving on from a bad relationship and has sworn off doms forever. John has recently returned to London from war and has a fortuitous run in with an old friend in a park. Sherlock and John's lives are changed forever because of that chance meeting, and they'll both find their way through life with a little help from their friends.

The Frost Is All Over by Chryse (E, 148,518 w., 21 Ch. || Pining Love, Implied / Referenced Rape / Non-Con, Period Typical Homophobia, Virginity, Teenlock, Major Illness, Implied / Referenced Child Abuse) - John was brave and clever and loyal, a commoner who longed for an exciting life. Sherlock was dashing and brilliant and passionate, an Earl’s son who longed to solve crimes. Being a Tale of Glorious Adventures, Love Letters, Treachery, Longing, Secret Identities, Deathbed Confessions, First Kisses, Daring Escapes, and True Love.

Failing Upward by elwinglyre (E, 204,847 w., 40 Ch. || Parallel Universes || Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Magical Realism, Science Fiction, Supernatural Sex, Non-Con Unwanted Frottage, Memory Loss, First Time, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Johnn, Friends to Lovers, First Person POV John) – When John Watson, a young med student who supports himself as a florist-by-day and musician-by-night, finds he is heir to supernatural powers that others would kill to possess, John’s life transforms into a mixture of comedy and terror. As he fights to understand what’s real and what’s imagined, he travels from one alternate universe to another. Along the way he finds the key was there all along: his brilliant best friend, Sherlock Holmes, the man who becomes the touchstone for all that John is and ever will be. Set in current day cities and countryside of Michigan, this story blends romance, magical realism and science fiction with humor. Part 1 of the Failing Upward Universe series

A River Without Banks by Chryse (E, 203,286 w., 23 Ch. || Alternate Realities || Angst with Happy Ending, Depression, Suicide, Violence, Torture, Rape/Non-Con Elements, PTSD, Serial Killers, Virgin Sherlock) – "You love this, being Sherlock Holmes."He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?

The Jewel in the Tower by PoppyAlexander (E, 207,079 w., 39 Ch. || Dystopian AU, Violence, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Mild Dub Con, One World Government, Class Issues, Assassin John / Geisha Sherlock, Self Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Espionage, Miscommunication, Sexual Fantasy, Masturbation, Letters/Texting, Phone Sex, Infidelity, First Time, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Injury Recovery, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Scars, Misgendering, Happy Endings) – In a contemporary dystopia, Unity is peace – despite the fact unsanctioned information, illicit currency, and every sort of danger flows unchecked in the world's pleasure districts. John Watson, a weary hired gun, is assigned by the mysterious Mentor to investigate a subversive element lurking in the Icehouse, the world's most famous House of Repose. As accustomed as he is to dealing with the unexpected, John is nevertheless woefully unprepared to meet the gem of the Ice house, Xie, the world renowned "drashaskaya," the living work of art after which all other drashas are modeled. In sumptuous suites, amid trailing puddles of silk and fervent whispers in the night, John soon learns that nothing is as it seems in the floating world of London's pleasure district. (PUBLISHED AS “At Night in the Floating World”)

Conductivity Series by liriodendron (E, 207,367 w. across 7 works || TRF / Post TRF, ReunionCanon Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Romance, Sexual Tension, First Kiss/Time, Synesthesia, Power Dynamics, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Case Fic, Est. Rel., References to Drug Use, Homophobic Language, Religious Content, Intercrural Sex, Unrequited Love, Angst, References to Suicide, Injury, Anal, Dub. Con, BDSM, Suicidal Thoughts, Violent Sex, Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Break Up) – In which Sherlock Holmes locates his heart, John Watson learns what it's like to burn, and there is no darkness that cannot be made bright.

Deflowered - Director’s Cut by Lorelei_Lee (E, 328,535 w., 51 Ch. || Mafia / Mob AU || Rape/Non-Con, Dub-Con, Boss John/Rentboy Sherlock, Bottomlock, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous John, Prostate Milking, Sounding, Anal Beads/Plug, Anal Sex / Fingering, Spanking, Begging, Blow Jobs, Riding Crops, Begging, Romance, Desperation, Minor Character Death, Implied Self Harm, Violence) – It should have been strictly business. Being a Mafia boss with a sadistic sexual streak, John had long since realised that his playthings were in it for the money only. Being a masochistic rent boy, Sherlock seemed too good to be true. Little did they know…

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #non con #dub con #my fic recs #rape cw #Anonymous #long post #consent

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dazed--xx · 4 years

Text

Useless

Request: Can you do a one shot were you fight and he says something that really hurt you bc you were insecure about that and then you act kinda distant and idk can it fluff and angst pretty please 🥺 I love your blog 💜(tae)

Summary: “Maybe I wanted to have some time to myself for a change? Did you ever think about that? Maybe I didn’t want some clingy leach attached to my hip at every second of the fucking day... I finally wanted to be able to fucking breathe. Like damn I can see why your parents didn’t want you... you're fucking useless....” The foul insults like venom. Useless... He thinks you're useless...

Member: Taehyung x Idol!reader

Word Count: 2,276

Genre: Angst, light smut, light fluff

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF ABUSE

A/N: Shout out to the reader who requested my first Tae one shot, hope you enjoy. I got some big things planned to come out so i hope yall follow make sure you check out my masterlist for other stories

(Not my gif)

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“Y/N!!” Tae shouts from the living room finally acknowledging my presence for the first time today. Waking me from a dead sleep, that falling feeling startling. “Y/N!!!” His voice booming. Sluggishly, WHAT TIME IS IT?? 1:54 am the alarm clock reads I scream into the pillow and make my wake to the living room. The bright light blinding, Tae on the couch with Jungkook. “Yes?” the annoyance in my tone evident. “We’re hungry can you make us something please?” THE FUCKING NERVE!!!! I roll my eyes “Did you speak to me for the last 16 hours?” confusion creeping onto his face at my passive aggressive attitude. Jungkook’s face contorts obviously uncomfortable. “I was just asking you to make us food, no need to be a bitch about it ill just order out” He snaps back “and by the way if you have something to fucking say then say it I don’t appreciate the off handed comments especially when you could have come to me as well and speak to me..” his eyes roll, Jungkook eyeing the door “WELL!.... this has been......fun. I'm gonna head out. Sorry Y/N didn’t mean to upset you” I smile at his friendliness. “Goodnight Jungkookie, I'll see you next time okay I'm sorry to make you feel uncomfortable.” I escort him out the door.

Tae’s eyes fuming as I turn around. “Look what you fucking did! You made him leave all because of you’re stupid fucking attitude!” He shouts, throwing his controller on the ground smashing it. “You couldn’t just say you didn’t fucking feel like it instead of pushing my friend out the fucking door” fear creeping up in my body. Me and Tae have fought before but he’s never raised his voice like this. He’s never been THIS angry before. “Tae, I’m sorry but I was sleeping and-” “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FUCK ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING?” his terrifying voice booming. Tears sting my eyes all my anger from the day boiling over as the confession spews out of my mouth “NO YOU DON’T BECAUSE YOU NEVER FUCKING CARE ABOUT WHAT THE FUCK I DO TODAY WAS A CLEAR INDICATION OF THAT NO? YOU HAVE A FUCKING DAY OFF AND YOU LITERALLY SPEND IT IGNORING ME AND PLAYING YOUR STUPID ASS GAME. I ASK YOU TO TAKE A WALK WITH ME AND YOURE TOO TIRED. I ASK YOU TO TAKE A NAP WITH ME YOU WANT TO BE UP. SO, WHAT THE FUCK IS IT HUH? SO, WHEN I FINALLY, FINALLY FALL ASLEEP YOU WANT TO FUCKING WAKE ME UP TO ASK ME TO COOK FOR YOU AND JUNGKOOK?????????”

“Maybe I wanted to have some time to myself for a change? Did you ever think about that? Maybe I didn’t want some clingy leach attached to my hip at every second of the fucking day... I finally wanted to be able to fucking breathe. Like damn I can see why your parents didn’t want you... you're fucking useless....” The foul insults like venom. Useless... He thinks you're useless...

*10 YEARS AGO,*

“Y/N! YOU RUINED IT! IT WAS MY FAVORITE AND YOU BROKE IT!!” My older sister shouts, as her hand harshly cracks along my cheek. Tears stream down my face, “I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to...” I whimper. The mirror on the ground shattered like my heart, my sisters rough hand shoves me to my knees. Glass stabbing at my skin like a thousand knives, her hand in my hair. “CLEAN IT NOW!!!” Her shouting alerts my mother. “Y/S/N? What's going on?” My mother's soft voice asks as she comes into the room. “Tsk....Y/N what did you do now?” Annoyance in her tone, her eyes rolling. “She broke my mirror. She broke my favorite mirror....she's so useless mom why is she here she needs to go.” My sister whined.

“Let her go, Y/N pick this up and come to my room...” the tone dark. Fear taking a hold of my chest. Whilst cleaning the mirror my sisters torture did not end glass penetrated my hand every time, she shoved me over as I held each shard with care. Dread fills me as the mirror is completely clean. Slowly, I trek to my mother's room my 12-year-old frame trembling as I stand in front of my mother's door heart beating threatening to burst out of my chest.

“Y/N LETS GO NOW” my mother shouts from the other side of the door. The beating didn’t last too long the pain only temporary; the lecture lasted a lifetime the pain forever. “Why do you have to be so damn useless huh? It's like you enjoy ruining our lives, you never seem to do anything right and I'm so god damn tired of fucking covering for you. SO, you need to go, I don’t care where it is you go but it's not here. I want you out by tomorrow and don’t take none of that expensive shit that’s mine”. I was out within the hour, terrified of what may come if I lasted until tomorrow. Rushing out of the door at 3 am with all of my essential belongings in hand, with no destination in sight.

Months go by living all around Seoul at parks, bus stations, motels when I get really lucky. Singing in the street to come up with a few dollars to eat. Some days I didn’t make enough and I would slip items in my clothes, becoming quite the “artist”. One day, I’m singing in front of a small store front 2 gentlemen dressed lavishly listening intently phone recording as my verse comes to an end. Their eyes burning holes into me as a blush creeps up onto my face. The crowd disperses at the top of my hat a business card BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT. Confusion strikes me turning the card over. A small hand written note and address on the back ‘TOMORROW 2 PM’. My heart races WHAT????

*TRAINEE DAYS*

“Y/N-AH STOP BEING SO DAMN USELESS AND PLEASE HIT THE BEAT ON THE RIGHT COUNT!” My groups dance lead, Hye-un shouts. Fury in her eyes, “Seriously we probably would have debuted by now if you could do something right like you can't sing, you can't dance...what can you do huh?? Stand there? Remember you’re only here because Namjoon oppa felt bad for you.” her words cut like knives. “Namjoon oppa thinks I'm good..” I mutter weakly, under my breathe as tears slide down my face. Every girl laughs, “No, honestly no one does like come on, you can't see it, He felt bad for you idiot. You were homeless and needed a place to go.” Jisoo snaps. Her words breaking my heart, grabbing my bag and dashing toward the door. They won't get to see me cry...not like that... not for them.

Running down the hallway, hunting for the farthest studio away from them to release my demons. THUD! “Oof DUDE WATCH WHERE YO-” The loud voice cut off “LOOK IM NOT IN THE FUCKING MOOD MOVE” I shout as I stand up to run past the stranger. “Damn... Okay... rude... are you okay though you look like you’re crying” He says as I wipe my eyes getting a clear view of the man that I've collided with. A blush instantly creeping on my face as the familiar face becomes recognizable and my head shoots down, Taehyung oppa. All the anger in me fades quickly as the god like man shifted. My voice is shaky, “IM SO SORRY, I wasn’t paying attention. I'm just having a rough morning. I should get going, I'm so sorry... I..Um...S-Sorry” He chuckles “Ha, you said that already...3 times in fact” a small giggle escapes my lips.

“So, I know you don’t know me or anything but I’m a great listener. Maybe you can tell me what's going on, it might help” He says sincerely. Hesitant, I look down “um....-” “Look, don’t worry if you don’t want to physically tell me give me your number you can text it to me then that way you and I don’t have to be face to face and it can help you to get more out that sound good?” I nod as he pulls out his phone and asks for mine. His number in my phone as Tae<3. A smile creeps up onto my face as he pulls me into a hug. My body melts into his like I've known him for years. “Okay so I'll talk to you later” A smile on his face as he walks off.

Blushing, as realization dawns on me as I pull my phone out to text him.

*PRESENT*

From there I told Tae everything, my fears, my past, insecurities. Useless....that's all I’ve ever been. My sobs no longer able to be held back as they barrel their way through my chest. “F-fin-ne then Tae you won't have to worry about me being in your way anymore” I whisper as I turn around and walk into the bedroom Tae and I share. Locking the door behind me I curl up in bed and let the tears take over me. Mama never loved you, the girls never wanted you to debut with them, they made you go solo because of how useless the group thought you were, You're so fucking useless to Tae. I ruin fucking everything I'm sorry Tae. The tears putting you to sleep eventually.

TAE’S POV

FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!! FUCK! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO???????!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!! The regret fills my mind as the bedroom door locks in my face. Her sobs filling the apartment, my heart cracking at the sound. Sitting outside of the door listening to the love of my life cry herself to sleep in our bedroom, alone, because of me. Baby I'm so sorry...you know I never would mean anything like that, but the words never come out.

Nothing can physically come out as my heart pounds in my throat terrified of what tomorrow could bring. Would she leave? NO! Tae don’t think like that Y/N loves you and she’ll know you could never mean that...right? Tears streaming down my face at the thought. You fucked up...you fucking hurt her in one of the worst fucking ways possible. There's no way she's going to forgive you. Trudging back to the couch as I let the tears consume me.

Y/N’S POV

The sun beaming in my eyes, burning, as I blink myself awake. Eyes sore, Tae’s words resting at the front of my mind. Making my way to the restroom, the second the door is open Tae is in front of me on his knees. “Baby, I’m an asshole okay but I love you and-and I'm sorry” He pleads as he wraps his arms around my waist head resting against my stomach. Disgust filling me, “Move, I have to use the restroom” Tae’s saddened figure retreats back to the living room defeated. Tears stream down my face as the hot water from the shower soaks me. My pain evident, Tae shuffling outside of the bathroom door every few minutes whispering to himself before disappearing back into the living room.

Placing one of my tank tops and sweat pants on, I make my way out of the bathroom. Tae rushing behind me as I walk back into the bed room. The saddened puppy looks still on his face. His regret in his eyes, his face is puffy and red proof he’s been crying over his words. The sight weakening my angry state as he reaches for my face and looks into my eyes caressing my cheek. His gaze drifting to my lips, slowly leaning forward he brushes his lips against mine looking for some form of consent. My eyes close as he presses forward and kisses me with so much emotion, his tongue delving in to my mouth and tasting me. A slight moan released from his lips as he presses me against the bedroom door slamming it shut. He lifts my right leg over his waist pulling me closer, as lips slide down to my neck. The way his tongue attacks my neck, drawing a puddle in my panties, his member grinding against me hard as a rock. The need for more grows inside me as Tae pulls his lips off of my body as he whispers in my ear his voice shaky and terrified “I-I’m so s-sorry, I love you and you’re not useless. I didn’t mean it. I could never mean it, you’re perfect I swear. And I'm such an ass for saying something like that there’s no excuse for what I said but please, okay, I'm BEGGING you don’t leave me.”

A tear slides down my face as he shakes, crying into my ear wrapping his arms around my waist. Tae’s sadness washing away any animosity toward him at his words. “Baby... you hurt me but I'd never leave you. You're all I have and I'm never giving you up” I hug him back. His smile against my neck. “I don’t deserve you.....I'm sorry” I nod and run my hands through his hair. “SO! Were you just being a tease or are you gonna finish what you started?” I ask seductively as I put Tae’s hand in my pants, a smirk creeps onto his face.

“Oh, Kitten, I have so many plans for us today”

#taehyung #bts #bts angst #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut

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alicenttully · 4 years

Text

A Mother's Choice (Is Sometimes No Choice at All)

notes: I literally wrote this in like an hour so yeah its definitely not perfect. there are probably plot holes. this is definitely my universe, however i still tried to somewhat stay true to the spirit of asoiaf. this was inspired by convo on original outline Sansa. @luchibelle brought up an interesting what if scenario of Sansa fleeing with her child. you might not agree with how I wrote sansa, however as I said this is my universe. Sansa is also definitely older than 13 here - she was married at 16 & had her son at 17.

Queen Sansa Stark, wife of King Joffrey I Baratheon, and mother of his son and heir, knelt in the sept designated for her use, and prayed.

If the gods were good, they would answer her prayers. Send her a message about the path she should take.

But then if the gods were good, they would not have made a man like Joffrey Baratheon king, would they?

Sansa titled her head upwards to look at the stained-glass window and idly thought that for all its beauty, it did not equal that of the windows in her lady mother’s own sept.

Father, if I do this, I will accept whatever judgement you give me.

Joffrey was her husband. She had stood in the Sept of Baelor that day and pledged herself to him with a kiss and a cloak. Both gods and men had witnessed this - Lord Tywin Lannister with his inscrutable face and his daughter Queen Cersei- a title that she did not have any right to in truth, as she was no longer Joffrey’s regent- giving a bright smile that did not veil the malice in her lovely green eyes. Joffrey was not only her husband, but her king as well.

She had always been taught that it was her duty to stand by her husband. To serve her king.

But her little Edric…

Gentle Mother, you must know that I only want to protect my son.

That had been the only thing she had ever wanted, since the very first moment she had felt him kick inside her. Until she had felt that sharp jab – but nothing as sharp as the way Joffrey had seized her wrist and snarled obscenities in her face for the first time- the baby had not felt quite real to Sansa. Only when she first felt him stir, did she understand that she was going to be a mother. Or perhaps she only knew what exactly that would mean the moment the Maester had placed Edric into her arms.

Sansa was immensely grateful that Joffrey had taken after his father in choosing to go on a hunt when it became apparent that her time was approaching. He must only enjoy the sight of blood when he can physically spill it, himself.

She did not have to contend with Joffrey, but she must endure his mother.

Cersei had been the first one to enter the birthing chambers. “My Lady,” The Maester’s voice was triumphant. “Her Grace has been blessed with a strong and healthy boy.”

Even in her state, Sansa caught the way Cersei’s lip curled when he referred to Sansa as Her Grace. “Blessed indeed.” Cersei said sweetly. She held out her arms expectantly, and Sansa felt no choice but to surrender her son. Cersei cradled him, and Sansa tried to ignore the anxious dread in her stomach as her son’s paternal grandmother gazed at him intently.

“He’s beautiful. But there’s not much of his father in him, is there?” The way Cersei worded it, it almost felt like an accusation. But what is she accusing me of?

“All three of my brothers took after my mother, Lady Cersei.” Sansa said politely. “It is just one of those things I except.”

Cersei smiled. “That is true enough, good-daughter. But you must be so proud. You have fulfilled every queen’s wish – to give her husband a son, and before the first year has even ended.”

Sansa knew Cersei was mocking her. Sansa had once gushed over Joffrey being the father of her children one day, until Joffrey had shown his claws when it had been too late. But despite Cersei’s mockery, Sansa was proud of her son. But it had nothing to do with Joffrey now.

Warrior, please grant me the strength to see this through.

Sansa knew that the Warrior was prayed to for strength in battle, but He could also be turned to for strength outside it. And if Sansa did this, she must wield her strength as fiercely as a knight with a sword.

Because children needed their mothers to be strong for them.

Smith, grant us safety.

A ship could only promise freedom if its passage was also safe.

She was no longer a maid, but…. Maiden, guard me as if you were guarding my innocence. So that I may guard my son.

Crone, light my way. Am I making the right decision?

She would be dancing with treason, if she did.

She might have been a queen, but she was still a woman, and women had been killed for less.

But regardless, she might have no choice.

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

Perhaps it was only fitting that on the night she would flee, that she would meet him here in the godswood.

Sansa pressed Edric close to her, praying fervently that he would not wake. Sleep for now, little one.

“Your Grace.” Sansa tried not to jump at the sound.

Varys lowered his hood, smiling. Something about the way he smiled always made Sansa feel unease. But he was her only hope.

“There were no issues, I assume, in you leaving your chambers?”

Sansa licked her lips. “No. What will you plan to do with the guards?”

Varys raised his eye-brows. “What do you imagine will happen?”

He will see them killed before the dawn breaks. Sansa tried to suppress the strange sense of guilt that struck her at the thought. The guards were nothing to her, and her son was everything. Sansa knew that the threat of torture would just as quickly open a man’s mouth just as much as the promise of gold would close it.

Sansa nodded and took a deep breath. “Then we must leave.” She spoke, grateful that her tone did not falter.

She knew Varys was not doing this purely out of any love for her or her son. He must benefit from this in some way, she thought. She had asked him that. "Why would you do this for me?"

Varys had smiled. "If your brother wins, then I imagine he will be all the more tender to a little spider if he knows that he did something for his sister. It'll make it easier for him to sack the city, knowing his sister and nephew are not inside."

No, Sansa thought, just a thousand other mothers and their children. She hoped that Robb could take the city peacefully. Only her beloved Joffrey should suffer. But maybe that was only something a little girl could dream.

"And if he doesn't... If Cersei asks you directly where I've gone..."

"I will not lie. I will say what my little birds have told me. But I pray it will never come to that."

"Best do," Sansa replied.

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

News spread quickly of the Queen and the little prince's disappearance. Joffrey is enraged and vows to split the one responsible in half for daring to steal his wife and son. To smash their heads in. Cersei is not half so deluded as her son. She knows that it would be her son's beautiful little queen who is at fault. She pledged to love my son, and this is what she does- the little bitch. Perhaps Cersei was wrong, and the girl had more wolf in her than she thought.

Robb Stark has spies in Westeros and abroad. It is through these spies that Sansa delivers a letter - letting them know enough that she and Edric were safe, but no more than that. Safe. Catelyn had clung to that word.

She clings to her daughter even harder when the war is over and Sansa and her son return to Westeros- no longer a babe, but a little boy of three, who could not understand why his mother sounded so happy, but also crying as if she was hurting too- like she had been hurting for a long time. And it was only now in this strange lady's arms that the hurt was finally going away now.

notes: it's what to you decide sansa & her son's futures.

#sansa stark #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #alternative universe #my writing #catelyn stark #robb stark #cersei lannister #joffrey baratheon #abuse tw

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devil-in-the-d3tails · 4 years

Text

It’s the End of the World As We Know It - Chapter 5

summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?

Link on AO3!

words: 5,453

rating: M - Mature

genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert

warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing, drug use, alcohol consumption

a/n: thank you for reading! <3

- It’s Loud in Here -

When the three of you make it back and hide your car in the same place as before, the gym is empty, except for an excited Indie, who comes bounding up to greet you, Bokuto, and Kuroo with kisses and a wagging tail. You’re a little alarmed at the lack of Kenma and Oikawa, but Kuroo and Bokuto aren’t too worried.

“Kenma’s probably wandering around the school, he does that sometimes. And Oikawa… eh, I dunno, he probably bothered Iwaizumi enough to hitch along with him and Akaashi.” Kuroo explains, and flops down on his bed. “We can move all your stuff in here after a quick nap.” He declares, and you’re in agreement with him-- you desperately need to shower, so you retrieve your toiletries from the car, and head off to the girls’ locker room.

Unfortunately, the water doesn’t get warm at all, but you can’t find it within yourself to care at the moment. You watch as the water cascades down your sore body-- you’ve been manhandled way too much today, and you can already feel the bruises forming around your ribs where that creepy red-head grabbed you. Squirting shampoo into your hair, you furiously scrub at your scalp in an attempt to clean yourself of all the shit you just went through this morning.

The image of your dad’s car won’t leave your mind-- it’s like you see it right in front of you every time you blink, a constant image in the back of your mind that you know you won’t be able to shake. How could someone just disappear like that? And why was it only the adults? Callie had said that her sister disappeared, but her sister was at least thirty…

Your head hurts, but you can’t stop thinking about it. Is there a way to reverse whatever happened? Is there an age limit as far as who disappears? Is it aliens?

You laugh a little to yourself at that thought. While you run the conditioner through your hair, you brush it out, too, and you sigh in absolute happiness as you wash your body with your usual soap from home. It’s pretty nice taking a shower in these dreary locker rooms, since nobody else is here to bother you.

Having washed hair and a washed body truly makes you feel like a new person, and you sigh happily after drying off and slipping on fresh, warm clothes. You even pull on your fuzzy socks, and as you pad back into the gym, you’re met with Kuroo and Bokuto, passed out on their respective beds, and you chuckle to yourself, opting to take a nap on Akaashi’s bed for the time being.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but Kenma has since returned, as you’re woken up by the sound of pages turning. You sit up, rubbing at your eyes, to find Kenma sitting on his bed, munching on some chips while he reads the book in his lap. He looks up at you, blinks in greeting, and goes back to reading.

“Um… hey,” You say awkwardly, as Bokuto and Kuroo are still very much asleep. Kenma looks up at you again, and you feel sort of scrutinized under his intense, calculating gaze.

“Hey,” He responds, and again, goes back to reading.

You frown-- you don’t want to bother him, so you decide to get the rest of your shit from your car. Bokuto and Kuroo have done enough heavy lifting for today, you decide, as you exit the gym to retrieve your groceries, bed, and all the other supplies you packed.

Kenma’s gaze follows you occasionally on your multiple trips to and from the gym. You pretend not to notice, because you have no idea if you should talk to him or just ignore him-- he seems to only really like Kuroo, and “like” is a strong word for him.

You huff as you stand in front of your open trunk, your mattress resting on top of two of the folded down backseats. Hands on your hips, you narrow your eyes as you work out the logistics of hauling this thing inside-- it’s just a twin bed, really not that heavy, and the gym is literally like five feet away. But with a sigh, you look down at your feet, battered shoes covered in mud and grass-- it hasn’t completely stopped raining all day, though it’s only drizzling right now. You know that if you try to drag your mattress inside by yourself, you won’t be able to hold it completely off the ground, so one side will get all muddy and gross.

You bite the inside of your cheek-- it’s probably better to wait for Kuroo and Bokuto to wake up. They’ll be glad to do manual labor for you, and you’ll be glad to let them show off or whatever. It’s a win-win!

You reach up to close the trunk when Kenma’s voice pipes up behind you.

“Need help?”

You turn in surprise, eyes wide. Did he just talk to you? And, offer you help?

Kenma leans against the open gym door, arms crossed, same expression as always. “You’re letting in all the cold air from outside.”

Oh. He just wanted you to hurry up, not actually help you because he was feeling nice. You laugh a little to yourself, and nod at him with a smile.

“Yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

The two of you haul your bed inside with little trouble-- Kenma’s actually stronger than he looks! When it flops to the floor between Kuroo’s and Akaashi’s beds, the dark-haired boy finally stirs awake. His head was sandwiched between two pillows, you realize, and snort out a laugh.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” You tease, and Kuroo just grumbles in response, still not completely awake as he squints up at you and Kenma.

“You moved your bed in here?�� Kuroo mumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

You nod, and gesture to Kenma. “Yeah, Kenma helped me.”

“Really?” Kuroo huffs out a laugh. “Dang Kenma, are you actually warming up to someone?”

“She was letting cold air in ‘cause she was taking so long.” Kenma rolls his eyes, and flops back on his own bed to continue to read.

“Thank you, Kenma,” You say sweetly, and lay on your bed with a happy sigh, wrapping yourself up in the blankets you brought from home.

“Man, I miss waffles.” You complain aloud, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thought process to lead you to that statement was: raining -> warm, lazy mornings -> mornings = breakfast -> breakfast = waffles, but waffles = not here anymore because toasters don’t work anymore. Maybe you could roast one over a fire? But all the frozen ones are probably weird now because they’ve been thawing out for days on end.

Kuroo laughs beside you. “Like, Eggos?”

“Yeah,” You sigh wistfully.

“I miss Crunchwrap Supremes.” Kuroo says, and it’s your turn to laugh.

“I miss Baja Blast.” You agree with a sigh.

Kuroo groans, and you meet his gaze with a grin. “Man, don’t torture me like that.”

“Maybe we can raid a Taco Bell? Baja Blast doesn’t expire, right?” You say, and Kuroo nods thoughtfully as he tucks his hands behind his head.

“If we’re gonna preserve one thing from the remnants of society, it better be fuckn’ Baja Blast.” Kuroo says, and you crack up at that.

“Yeah, fuck the pyramids or whatever--” You say,

“Dude, fuck the pyramids!” Kuroo interjects, and you laugh even more.

“-- fuck the pyramids, for real!” You smack your first into your palm. “All my homies hate the pyramids.”

“Society has advanced past the need for pyramids.” Kenma says from his place on his bed. You and Kuroo’s eyes light up, and you both sit up to hook Kenma with gleeful expressions, elated that he’s joining in on the fun. Kenma looks up from his book, and smiles a little as you and Kuroo laugh along with the joke.

Your rambunctious laughter wakes up Bokuto, who sits up with a start, even though his eyes are still squinty as he slowly regains consciousness.

“Baja Blast…?” He mumbles, and you and Kuroo can’t help but crack up even more at Bokuto’s delayed response-- even Kenma laughs, and as the rain falls heavier outside, the four of you go around naming all the things you miss from before the world ended. Video games, heaters, washing machines, all kinds of fast food, TV shows you’ll never know the ending to, movies that will never be released-- it’s all a little sad, but it’s fun to reminisce with the three guys as they crack jokes and raid your grocery haul for snacks.

“Awww, man, remember those things at like, huge malls where you could go in and fake sky-dive?” Bokuto says, and you and Kenma exchange a glance of wild confusion.

“No??” You say, and Kuroo and Bokuto exclaim in surprise.

“What?! You never went on one of those things?” Bokuto is astonished, but so are you, because you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“How does that even work?” Kenma wonders, and glares at Kuroo as the latter steals some chips from him with a grin.

“You go into this like, giant cylinder--” Kuroo starts, but Bokuto cuts in as he leaps to his feet.

“Yeah, and there’s this grate floor, and a giant fan underneath you, and you wear like, goggles and shit, and then they turn on the fan and you just get fuckn’ blasted in the air for like five minutes.” Bokuto howls with laughter, “I remember one time, me and Akaashi tried it, and holy shit-- his face--!” Bokuto can’t continue, he’s laughing so hard.

You all three join in, because Bokuto’s joy is contagious, and you can kind of picture the situation-- the prospect of seeing Akaashi as anything but calm and collected is hilarious to you.

The sun begins to set, and you’re roped into a game of toss-the-volleyball with Kuroo and Bokuto, while Kenma watches on in mild amusement.

“Check this out!” Bokuto yells as Kuroo tosses the ball up. The gray-haired boy grins wide, eyes fixated on the ball, and he leaps, only to hit the ball over an imaginary net to send it careening to the polished wood floor with a loud SMACK!

“Woah!” You exclaim, eyes wide as Bokuto’s chest puffs with pride.

“That is called a ‘spike’.” He says, hands on his hips.

You raise your eyebrows, deciding to humor him. “No waaay, tell me more!”

“Okay!” Bokuto excitedly retrieves the ball, and tosses it back to Kuroo. “Send me another one!”

“Man, I’m not a setter.” Kuroo huffs, sending a quick glare to Kenma as he tosses the ball up to Bokuto once again, who leaps up, and powerfully hits the ball so that it flies parallel to where the net would have been, and another loud SMACK! fills the gym.

“Hey, hey, hey!!” Bokuto exclaims proudly as he lands on the floor.

“Dang!” You exclaim, actually very impressed with that move. “How’d you do that?!”

“Ahh, there’s no explaining talent.” Bokuto laughs, “I’m just kiddin’! Basically, I just jump up and hit the ball like, bam! Instead of, wham! You know?” He nods, hands on his hips, and you share a quick glance with Kuroo, who just shakes his head with a smile.

“That’s kickass.” You concede, and Bokuto seems to glow with your praise.

“Hey, maybe we can show you--”

“Yoho~!”

Bokuto is cut off by a cheery Oikawa pushing the gym doors open, a dazzling smile on his handsome face like always. As Oikawa enters, he pulls his hood off of his head-- how is his hair still perfect?!-- and a soaked Akaashi and Iwaizumi follow, carrying about five bags total.

“Welcome back!” You say, inwardly relieved to see their safe return. You didn’t want to admit it earlier, but you were growing more worried with every hour that passed and they didn’t show up.

The three guys set down the bags in the designated “stuff” corner of the gym, and you, Kuroo, and Bokuto walk up to meet them there, with Kenma trailing behind.

“Well, we found some pretty useful shit this time.” Iwaizumi says proudly, and fishes around in one of the bags for a moment before procuring some walkie-talkies.

“Walkie-talkies?” You and Bokuto exclaim at the same time.

“Radios?” Kuroo corrects, and you and Bokuto roll your eyes.

“Yes to both.” Akaashi says as he helps Iwaizumi hand them out.

“This way, we can communicate easier when we go searching in L.A.” Iwaizumi says as he hands you yours.

“Oh? Are you coming with us now?” You say with a grin.

You don’t miss the quick blush that dusts Iwaizumi’s cheeks as he quickly looks away with a frown. “Oikawa begged me to.” He explains.

“Um? No, I convinced you.” Oikawa defends himself.

“Whatever. Point is, after what happened to you, it makes sense that we should all stick together. Splitting up is a bad idea, especially since… y’know, people are still disappearing.” Iwaizumi says, and a solemnity passes over the group.

Oikawa clears his throat. “Here, I got this for you.” He hands you a bag of cotton balls and nail polish remover. Your eyes widen-- you looked everywhere in the grocery store for this stuff, but couldn’t find it a few days ago.

“T-thank you!” You say as you take the items from Oikawa. He gives you a dazzling smile in response, which brings a blush to your cheeks, having all his attention on you.

“Your nails were looking pretty bad this morning, I noticed you picking at them-- so I figured this would help!” He explains, to which Iwaizumi punches him in the arm. “Ow! Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“Gee, thanks.” You deadpan, your appreciation now replaced with irritation. You decide to shrug it off, though-- this shows that his heart was in the right place, at least.

“We haven’t even shown you guys the best thing,” Oikawa recovers pretty quickly, and reaches into his own bag, to reveal a plethora of Four-Lokos and White Claws. “It’s time to get fucked up. It’s the least we deserve.”

“Dude!” Kuroo exclaims, and fishes around in his pocket to pull out his hefty sum of weed, to which Oikawa’s eyes light up. The two boys grin at each other, and shake hands warmly at their shared train of thought.

[-]

The boys lead you to a barren spot behind the gym outside, where a fire pit has been set up. You’re surprised at how quickly Kuroo and Iwaizumi can get a fire started, considering it’s still cold as hell, even though the rain has stopped for now. Pretty soon, they’re warming a kettle of water over the crackling flame, and you and Kenma are sitting side-by-side underneath one of your blankets on the chairs you brought outside, while the rest of the guys huddle around the fire in their own chairs.

Instant ramen is passed out, and soon, your hands are warmed by the boiling water heating up your styrofoam cup of noodles. You blow on it gently, and soon, all of you are wolfing down the most delicious instant noodles you’ve ever eaten in your life.

After dinner, the fire is put out, and you all retreat back inside the gym just as the rain begins to pick up again.

“Aight, I don’t have too much paper, so we’re just gonna pass it around, is that cool?” Kuroo asks as you all settle on the floor, sitting on your respective pillows in a circle. He’s already preparing the joint, packing it so it’s a little thicker than what you’ve seen in the movies. After expertly rolling it up, he licks the edge of the paper, and seals it before lighting it. He takes a drag, and exhales happily as Oikawa, sitting next to him, cracks open a Four Loko. You’ve decided to go with a White Claw for now, since you’re a bit of a lightweight on account of your inexperience.

Kuroo passes the joint to Oikawa first, who passes it to Iwaizumi, then Kenma, then Akaashi, and then you. You frown, and laugh a little as you sheepishly ask, “Um, how do I do it?”

Bokuto laughs beside you, and gently takes it from you. “You just breathe in, hold it for a second, and then breathe out.” He shows you, and coughs a little at first, waving away the smoke. “Here, try!”

You nod with a smile, and do as he says: wrap your lips around the blunt, breathe in, hold it--

You almost cough up a lung on step two. The boys around you laugh, not making fun of you, just amused at your naivete.

“Try again, try again.” Oikawa encourages, and you do, and actually manage to do a successful hit. You’re still coughing a little, your eyes watering, but you’re having fun.

You take a sip, and the blunt is passed around once again.

“So, you got all your stuff back, I see!” Oikawa says as he takes another hit. “What happened there?”

“Shit was insane, dude.” Kuroo shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, those assholes that scared her before were hiding out in Asahi’s house!” Bokuto says, “They had guns, man!”

“What?” Iwaizumi exclaims right as he’s about to take a drag.

“Yeah, it was insane!” You chime in after taking a few more sips of your drink. “That red-head grabbed me right as I was about to run back into the car, but then I punched him!” You say proudly, and hold up your bruised knuckles as proof.

“Yeah, and you know what she said when she did it?” Kuroo laughs, “She goes, ‘Fuck outta here!’”

The entire group is impressed and joins in on your laughter, and you just blush with a shrug.

“What can I say? I’m a badass.” You toss your hair over your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.” Kuroo affirms warmly, and you share a smile with him for a moment before Akaashi hands you the blunt.

“He was a redhead?” Kenma pipes up, and you nod as you exhale. The musky smell of weed is starting to stink up the whole gym, but you don’t really care. You’ve only taken two hits, but you’re already feeling warm and tingly-- your mind is a little fuzzy, and paired with your drink, you’re generally just feeling amazing.

Kenma must’ve said something, because he’s looking at you expectantly.

“Hm? Sorry.” You say and sit up straighter.

“I said, he sounds like a kid from my history class. I think his name’s Tendou?” Kenma repeats, and glances at Kuroo, who just shrugs.

“I don’t know a lot of juniors.” He says, taking another glug of his drink.

Kenma just hums thoughtfully, and takes a hit before passing it back to Kuroo.

“Okay.” Oikawa says with a grin, and turns to hook you with his chocolate brown gaze. “So, how come we’ve never seen you before? You went to Karasuno, right?”

“Yeah,” You laugh sheepishly, and are surprised to find you’ve already finished your drink. “I wasn’t really part of any clubs or anything. I mean, I went to Yearbook Club every once in a while, ‘cause I liked to take pictures.”

“You ever go to any volleyball games?” Oikawa asks.

“No,” You say with a big sigh. “Don’t hate me!”

“Ugh!” Oikawa exclaims in disgust. “That’s it, get her out of here.”

You laugh along with the others, and decide to play along with the bit. “Alright, bet.” You say, and rise to your feet, but immediately stumble back down, right into Bokuto’s surprised lap.

“Woah--hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaims, his voice jumping a few octaves as he flings his arms above him to avoid touching you in any disrespectful way.

You dissolve into a pile of giggles, and reach up to snatch the blunt from Bokuto’s hand, taking another drag before leaning back to look upside down at Kenma, passing it to him, who grins down at you.

“Did your boyfriend disappear, too?” Oikawa asks out of nowhere, and you look over in time to see Iwaizumi smack Oikawa’s arm. “Ow! Come on, we were all curious!”

You just huff out a laugh, and sit up with a bit of trouble, leaving behind a furiously blushing Bokuto.

“I didn’t have a boyfriend. Never really have, ‘cause I don’t count elementary school.” You answer with a shrug, and glance at Kuroo, only to find him staring at you intently. You raise an eyebrow, exuding confidence as you smirk at him. “What?”

Kuroo just blinks, and shrugs as he takes the blunt from Kenma. “Nothin.” He says, and takes a drag, finally breaking eye contact with you.

The blunt is passed around-- you’ve lost count by now-- and Kenma suddenly stands, his eyes shining with excitement.

“I almost forgot-- I found something really cool today in one of the classrooms.” He says, and stumbles over to his bed to reach into his backpack, and pulls out an actual boom box.

“Wooaaahhh!” Kuroo and Bokuto say at the same time as Kenma brings it over.

“There’s even some cassette tapes for it,” Kenma says, and puts the boom box in the middle of the group, then pulls out some cassettes from his jacket pocket to view the options. You lean over to Kenma, across Bokuto’s lap-- which makes him blush again-- and you’re pleasantly surprised by the options.

“Dude, they have Black Sabbath?” You exclaim. “Where did you even find this?”

“Mr. Little’s classroom.” Kenma answers, and grins when he finds a specific tape. “Got it. Check this out.” He inserts the tape, and presses play.

After a second, ‘hot girl bummer’ by blackbear starts playing, much to everyone’s surprise.

“What the-- how did that get on a cassette?” Oikawa exclaims, and Kenma grins.

“I made this tape for Mr. Little earlier this year to prove to him that newer music is pretty good-- but he said he’d only listen to it if it was on a cassette. So, I made a cassette tape with a lot of modern songs on it.” He explains, looking down at the boom box with a smile, like it’s his little baby-- his creation that has managed to survive past the end of the world.

“Kenma!!” You coo, pouting your lip out as you look at him with so much unfiltered adoration. “This is so cool! And this is so exciting! Thank you so much!!” Tears actually well up in your eyes, and Bokuto quickly hurries to wipe them away with his thumb.

“Oh, God!! Oh, no! Why are you crying?!” He exclaims, cradling your face in his hands to bring your gaze up to his.

“I’m just--” You sniffle. “I’m really happy, and like, I’ve just had such a shitty day-- or like, life, lately. And, like--” You sniffle again, and wipe away some snot with your sleeve as you turn to look at the group of cross-faded guys around you, who all look extremely worried at your sudden cry-fest. “It’s just… I care so much about you guys, and we barely know each other! But, like… I don’t know, you guys have just taken care of me, and you’ve been so nice, and I just… I’m just really happy!” You babble, and in an instant, Bokuto wraps you up in a bone-crushing hug.

“We care about you too!” Bokuto affirms, and then suddenly hauls you up to your feet, still hugging you fiercely. He spins you around with a flourish, and you’re extremely disoriented, but happy nonetheless. “Let’s dance!” He says, and grabs your hands, and starts swaying around in a really dumb way.

You laugh, but join in anyways-- and soon, the entire group is dancing like idiots. The entire experience is a bit of a haze, as your head has grown fuzzier, your limbs heavier, and your heart lighter. You feel so at ease with yourself, like you could say or do anything, and you wouldn’t have any regrets. You really should’ve smoked weed a lot earlier in life if it made you feel this good.

The songs that are on Kenma’s playlist are really good, and really fun to dance to-- you think for a moment that this experience is even better than prom, apocalypse included. You don’t quite feel your feet as you stumble and dance around, but pretty soon, you feel a really strong urge to pee. Two-- or was it three?-- White Claws seem to have gone right through you, so you mumble something about needing to use the bathroom and that you’ll be right back to Iwaizumi. Or maybe it was Akaashi.

In no time at all, you’re relieved and washing your hands at the sink. Being in the school bathroom with the lights off is once again a strange experience-- especially since you’re very high and pretty drunk. This moment sort of feels like a liminal space-- a save point in a video game, so that you can collect your fuzzy thoughts, only to watch them float down the drain with the water that’s running over your hands. You’re not sure how long you watch the faucet run, but you’re amazed at what you’re seeing-- indoor plumbing really is the most underrated thing about society.

“Man, fuck the pyramids!” You laugh to yourself as you remember your jokes with Kuroo earlier. Man, he really is cute. All of them are-- you’re really the luckiest girl in the end of the world. You finally turn off the faucet, and float out of the bathroom, out to the dark hallway that leads back to the gym.

You’re surprised to find Kuroo leaning on a wall, hands in his pockets. He looks up when he catches sight of you, and smiles sweetly. He doesn’t grin, or smirk like usual-- he looks like a young boy right now, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Hi,” You say, surprised at your quiet voice and how it seems to cut through the silence of the hallway loudly. The sound of music is still coming from the gym, but this hallway still feels very removed from reality, like a little pocket that only you and Kuroo exist in.

“Hey,” He says, and licks his chapped lips as he looks away, and rubs the back of his neck. “Um, sorry, just wanted to check on you ‘cause you were taking a while.”

“Ohhh,” You say, and smile sheepishly. “I was just… watching the water.”

“Cool.” Kuroo nods, and you both stare at each other for a moment. Kuroo’s eyes are a little glazed, a little red, and you’re sure you look the same. He swallows, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs with the motion. “Um, I wanted to apologize.”

“Huh? For what?” You’re surprised, to say the least. He helped you out so much today-- he actually risked his life for you (and your groceries).

“For doubting you.” He says, and shoves his hands in his pockets even further. “Earlier, when I didn’t tell you your groceries were in Asahi’s house. I didn’t tell you ‘cause I didn’t think you could pull off getting them back. And, like… I dunno, that wasn’t cool of me. So, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And, that, uh…” He shrugs, and finally glances at you. “I believe in you.”

You’re struck dumb as your mouth drops open in surprise-- you’re not sure what to say. Even if you were sober, this would surprise you. You quickly close your mouth, and realize you need to say something, because you don’t want Kuroo to feel weird, or like you hate him.

But, you can’t think of anything to say at the moment-- so, you follow your feet as you walk up to him, and proceed to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his broad, warm chest.

“Thank you, Kuroo.” You say, and squeeze him a little tighter when his arms wrap around you after a moment. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, and laughs out a sigh of relief. You two stay like that for a while-- you could fall asleep standing up, with how at peace you feel right now. Your high, combined with Kuroo’s warmth, and how safe you feel bundled up in his arms, makes the world melt away. With a happy sigh, you pull away a little bit to look up at him with a dumb, happy smile. He looks down at you, just as dumb, and just as happy. “Hey, I believe in you, too. Even though you piss me off sometimes.”

You feel the rumble of Kuroo’s laugh from his chest, and you lean your cheek into his hand as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m always gonna piss you off.” He mumbles, and you roll your eyes with a grin. You watch as he licks his lips again-- it’s a subconscious thing to do, a normal tick that anyone and everyone does, but for some reason, watching Kuroo do it right now, it’s the most captivating thing for you. Your gaze slowly travels from his lips to his bright, hazel eyes, only to find that he’s been gazing at you just as long as you’ve been gazing at him. He takes a deep, shaky breath, and seems to have a stream of conflicting thoughts go through his head, but you’re very sure of yourself as you reach up, and cradle his face between your hands. You gently rub your thumb back and forth over his cheek-- he feels so warm, and it’s only then that you notice that he’s blushing. One of your hands travels further, into his dark hair, which you’re surprised to find, is extremely soft.

You giggle then, which surprises Kuroo, and you bite your lip as you try to hold back your laughter. “Your hair’s always so messy.”

Kuroo huffs out a laugh, and rolls his eyes. “Gimme a break, it’s the end of the world.”

Your smile just grows wider, and you can’t help but stare at him-- something about this moment makes you feel so vulnerable, but so incredibly safe. You wonder if Kuroo feels the same-- and he’d never tell you, but he does (just because it’s you).

Kuroo gently reaches up to grab your wrist, and pull it from his hair. Your hand drifts from his grasp, to trail your fingers along the lines of his palm-- you watch your fingers gently ghost over his skin, and he watches, too, completely engrossed in your movements. Somehow, his fingers ghost over your own, and travel to your bruised knuckles. His fingers ghost over the blue and purple skin, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth down as his eyebrows knit together the longer he stares at your bruised hand. You lazily intertwine your fingers with his, and look back up at him as he looks back to you. You’re both holding your breaths-- for the first time, Kuroo looks nervous. Is it nervousness? Anticipation? His eyes flit to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick them, and then back to your eyes.

You’re both leaning in to each other, subconsciously or intentionally, you’re not sure which-- but you know that you’re super okay with it. Your eyelids flutter when you feel Kuroo’s breath fan over your lips, and you feel Kuroo’s grip tighten around your waist, which sends sparks of excitement coursing through your body, and you feel electric and buzzed, and you flutter your eyes closed as the two of you move closer. Your nose brushes his, and he inhales sharply at the contact, and you feel his thumb rub up and down against your back, and he presses you against him, closer, closer, and your heart is thundering in your ears and all throughout your body, and--

Just like that, it’s all gone. Kuroo takes a step back, blushing furiously just like you, and you’re surprised and really cold from his absence.

“U-uhm…” He runs a hand through his hair, and clears his throat as he looks away. “Sorry. Uh-- yeah. Sorry.” He mumbles, and quickly turns away to walk to the opposite end of the hallway to disappear into the boys’ bathroom.

You’re left standing there, lips parted, heart hammering, the cold slowly seeping back into your bones, and as Everybody Talks by Neon Trees starts to play in the gym, you slowly begin to feel the sharp sting of rejection.

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #reader insert

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