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yourmcu · 4 years

Text

Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace.

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

me time (m)

summary; the first time virgin!mc meets her mans (but she doesn’t know it yet) pairing; jungkook x virgin!mc genre/warnings; fluff, college!au, boarding house!au, based on the virgin!oc discourse, female masturbation (thanks to the pretty bridgertons), a lil sad and longing at the end w/c; 1.3k a/n; y’all really brought manhater!mc and virgin!mc to life! this couldn’t be done without all of your fabulous input and support. obviously the virginverse is freeform at this point—think of this more as a prequel for these two. set in freshman year of college, when they’re just acquaintances. (do you guys think of cher from clueless when u think virgin!mc? very outgoing n’cute but also very innocent?) anyway, happy valentine’s day i hope you and your boo (whether digital or in-person) get your me/we time💖

Your wooden lap desk is toppled to the side. Good thing the space between the mattress and floor is small, your pink monstera-shaped rug softening the blow when your water bottle, pencils and laptop fall to the floor. In the back of your head you know everything is fine because the last episode of Bridgerton is still playing, an orchestral version of Ariana Grande’s Thank U, Next continuing on as if nothing’s astray.

Yet you’re nothing but astray, forgotten about the episode and writhing against your too-small twin as you let yourself cum for the umpeeth time.

You’ve lost track at this point (how couldn't you? Bridgerton is hot) but from the way your hair mats to your face like a second skin and your pussy feels spent and battered, it’s been awhile. This should be your new Valentine’s Day tradition, fucking yourself until you pass out on your vibrator.

“Ah, ah fu—uck, yyyes!”

The sheets are sopping. The grey cotton fabric does nothing to hide your juices that seep from your bare cunt to the mattress. Flinging your silicone toy to the side, you pull your hair up and out of your face.

Water, you need water. Maybe a cup of green tea with a dollop of honey. Sugar always helps the immediate low after a good couple of rounds.

However, you’ll never get used to the feeling of cleaning up yourself. The feeling that you’ve done something completely lewd all on your own, no one to assure you the things you’re doing are weird. It’s okay though. You love to be alone, it takes a lot for you to feel lonely.

You slip on a pair of dolphin-cut shorts, too tiny that they are drowned beneath your emerald green slip dress. Quickly opening the door to your room, you’re met with absolute silence. White walls containing empty rooms and a living room without a soul. Just like you’re expecting in a college boardhouse on Valentine’s Day.

What you’re not expecting however, is Jeon Jungkook staring at you the second you crack your door open.

“If you’re screaming that loud, your partner must be doing a good job.”

Jungkook lives on the other side of the boarding house, therefore you’ve never really interacted with him. Excluding the landlord there’s only five other tenants, a group large enough that you’ve never had to have one-on-one with him.

You really didn’t think anyone would be in the house on Valentine’s, especially Jungkook. He’s an absolute cutie pie, even though you don’t know anything about him. The only thing you really know is that his sparkly brown eyes are to die for, they remind you of coffee milk tea, a craving you only indulge in at the end of finals season.

To your surprise, Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gone out all weekend. Him, single? As if! Yet you can’t justify any reasoning behind him being home if did have a girlfriend or boyfriend. His dark hair is fluffy and freshly showered, and you can’t ignore the smell of linens from his soft sweats and long navy hoodie.

Normally, you’d be quiet during Me Time. You’ve perfected the art, stuffing your mouth with your pillow or playing action movies to muffle out the sound. You thought you were in the clear. The thought of Jungkook overhearing you turns you on a little, makes the dampness between your panties even more evident, but you keep that self-indulgent secret to yourself.

“Oh, well,” you curl your lips in a smirk, closing the door behind you so he doesn’t see that your room is actually very much devoid of life, “she’s very powerful.”

She, meaning your favorite vibrator in your entire world. It has ten settings and a heating mechanism. More importantly, it’s rechargeable. You don’t know how you’d survive freshman year otherwise.

“Okay, TMI,” despite the fact Jungkook’s blushing he’s chuckling, holding a hand out for you in the narrow hallway, “after you.”

You quickly slip past him, walking into the shared kitchenette. Bare feet slapping against the hardwood, your eyes immediately gravitate toward the upper cabinet. Jungkook is following you, presumably to get his own late night snack. When you lift your arms to reach your mug, you feel a little bit of cool air brush against the uppers of your thighs. It’s a nightgown, a pretty satin slip that falls over your curves and leaves much to the imagination. A couple more centimeters to get your mug and you’ll be definitely flashing Jungkook.

“Um,” you practically hear the twisted face he’s making.

“Sorry—I’m sorry!” you blurt, waving your fingers to catch the handle of your mug, “I’m really not trying to flash you—please don’t fill a harassment report! I just can’t reach my mug.”

“No, that’s my mug.”

“What, no! I’ve been drinking from this mug all year!”

“You’ve been drinking from my mug?” Jungkook is affronted, walking past you to easily grab the mug you’ve been struggling to reach for the past minute. He flexes the bottom part of the mug in your face, where his initials are painted in black. “This is my mug, my parents put my handprint on it when I was a year old.”

It’s then you notice on the lower shelf, there’s an identical mug. This mug has been buried all the way in the back, dust collecting on the rim. It also has a baby handprint on it, although upon closer inspection it’s smaller and in a more faded shade of black. That’s your mug.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you feel your heart fall all the way to your ass, feeling guilty, “I’m so sorry. I’ve washed it and everything, if it makes you feel any better.”

He frowns, holding the white porcelain between his hands. A litany of ideas run through your brain. Is he disgusted by using the same mug as you? Have you potentially ruined a prized family treasure?

Thrusting the mug into your chest he says, “Make me a hot chocolate and we’re even.”

You smile a little, eager to please. You quickly get to work, simmering the pan with warm milk and melting chopped chocolate. You rinse your mug with some hot water, letting it sit next to his awaiting mug. For a bit of flair you add a capful of vanilla extract, all while Jungkook watches you with mild awe. The smell of sweet late night confections fill the kitchen, a fitting theme for a Valentine’s night.

“You’re not burning the milk,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself than you, watching as you pour the hot chocolate in cups without spilling a drop.

Jungkook is known to burn things in the house. The only thing he doesn’t burn is ramen, and that’s purely due to survival skills.

“What can I say, I’m an expert,” you wink, handing him his mug and you holding yours.

With matching mugs, the two of you take your first sips of the melty beverage. You lean against the stove facing him, while he faces you against the marble island. Jungkook smiles and a bit of cocoa touches his petal pink lips. He says it’s perfect and you smile into your cup, absolutely swelling with pride.

Jungkook’s probably working on his photos. He always says his editing bug is itchy at night. While in passing you’ve said you’d love to see his work, however that gesture of kindness never really amounted to anything. Maybe tonight’s the night. You like art, you’d love to be a little more educated with it. Just as you’re about to ask and strike up some conversation, Jungkook beats you to it.

“Well, hope you and your partner have a good Valentine’s,” Jungkook holds his cup in salute, walking back into his room, “just keep it down.”

Oh well. You sigh to yourself, letting Jungkook walk away without a fight or a retort. After all, it was you who implied you were sneaking in a bed partner tonight. Sinking your eyes into the brown liquid, you fall into a lull. The creamy liquid swirls in your grasp, making your muddied reflection ripple away.

You love to be alone, but it takes someone like Jeon Jungkook to remind you that life gets a little lonely.

#ficswithluv #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #btsguild #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts smut

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austarus · 3 years

Text

HR Wells x Reader - Reversal of Denouement

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes for being my beta reader.

Word Count: 8251

MASTERLIST

A low groan left HR's lips. His body felt numb, his chest ached - tingled as his heart beats steadily. Is it beating? The darkness of his eyelids eased the stinging coming from his mind – it wasn’t so bright. The headache formed there. His body screamed at him as the novelist made the slightest of movement. His left shoulder in particular had protested in desperate agony. He couldn’t move it very much, the area succumbed to restraints of some sort. HR’s throat felt raw as his body throbbed, the blood coursing meticulously through his blood vessels. The sound of a soft voice greeted his ears, but his eyes refused to open.

"I... you, HR... even if... see it." The voice was so familiar, so gentle. So sweet. "Should... better." A drop of water hit his numbed hand, static still prominent there from the little movement his body had done. “I wish…” The dark-haired doppelganger could only understand fragments of what the speaker was saying. He felt a pressure on his hand, tender skin holding onto his before something tickled his forehead. Feather-light. What was it? Who was it? A few moments passed and he heard nothing, the novelist only assumed that the voice’s owner had left. He didn’t want to be alone right now though, not with the darkness.

It had become unbearable.

Since... Since when did…? How...? Oh. Right. Savitar... Am I dead? Is this where spirits wait for their turn to pass into their designated afterlife? Have I really...? Events from earlier resurfaced to his mind, his senses coming together. Right, had to protect Iris. For Barry – it was my fault Savitar had gotten to her. My big mouth. Even if Barry didn't really see me as a helpful friend. At least... At least I proved Savitar wrong, who ironically is a version of Barry. That's hella twisted. He huffed out a breath before venturing back into the calmness of sleep. Maybe a little more rest will help?

***

HR cracked an eye open: this time, harsh filtered light had greeted him. The novelist grunted in pain, adjusting himself slightly to assess where he was. What day was it? What was the time? How long have I been here? A yawn left his lips this time, his throat and mouth as dry as a desert.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up?” HR’s eyes met Cisco’s, who stood with a tablet in hand. “How’s sleeping beauty feeling?”

The Wells doppelganger cleared his throat. “Like I’ve gotten assaulted by an Amtrack bus, and not the good kinds.” HR’s baby blue eyes scanned the room, landing on the flower vase that was set on a table near him. Blue forget-me-knots and pink hydrangeas stood proudly in their vases, nurtured well. HR felt his heart swell, his eyes not daring to leave the delicate petals that accented the med bay in better tones. Cisco handed him a cup of water to which HR downed it immediately.

“Amtrack does trains.”

“Not on my Earth, Francisco.” The author couldn’t help but ask, his eyes lingering on the flowers once more. “Did Tracy bring those?”

Cisco pursed his lips, an odd look present on his face. He wanted to tell HR, but… “No. Um, she didn’t.” Tracy had been visiting, though it had become some sort of a nuisance to all her complaining at this point. She hadn’t even known HR for that long, anyway.

“Oh?” His shoulders dropped subtly in disappointment. “They’re beautiful, I was just wondering and…”

“Let’s just say, a special someone’s been… dropping by and bringing a new flower each day. That’s all you’re getting from me, Aurora.” Cisco reasoned with the Wells doppelganger. The mechanical genius knew, but it wasn’t his place to say. It killed him, but… “I wouldn’t move around too much, if I were you. You’ve got a fractured shoulder and that chest wound. I’ve been told to relay the message that you’re to be on strict bed rest until that shoulder further heals.” HR lowered his gaze to see the cross-body sling. He clenched his slinged hand and unclenched it to bring some feeling into the limb.

“What about my chest?”

“Miraculously, that’s been healing really well since day one.” Cisco kept the talk real, showing the injured doppelganger the schematics and pictures. “You got lucky that it missed your heart by a centimeter.” A stab wound like that should have… I wonder if she knows that I know.

HR blinked at the seriousness in his injury, the looming idea of death from his decision. “How long was I out?”

“A week and a half.”

“What?” HR’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I-”

“HR!” Tracy’s sudden voice pierced the room, stunning Cisco and triggering an ache in HR’s head. The grad scientists shuffled over to him, both forgetting that Cisco was in the room. “HR, my love, how are you? Are you feeling okay? Is there any pain?” He continued checking his friend’s vitals and adjusting dosages to the IV and morphine administered – as per your request. The room was growing ever louder with HR and Tracy. Tracy embraced him, minding his injuries as she continued to fuss over him. It made the Wells writer smile, yet… his heart didn’t swell as much as it used to.

Odd.

Cisco sent you a quick text while the two were preoccupied, but you were already at the Labs. You stopped just outside the entrance, the wall and dimly light hallway obscuring you from who remained in the med bay. They wouldn’t be able to see you from where you stood. A shaky breath left you as you clutched the Freesia flower in hand. Your heart shriveled in your chest as you backtracked. Hearing his voice is enough. After all, with Tracy around you couldn’t be near him – those dirty and hateful looks she’d send you. Best to keep my distance, I guess. You couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him though, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart and would never reciprocate your love. You pushed down the lump in your throat. Hastily, you sent Cisco a text to check on the flowers. Silently, you trailed away from the med bay and to the upper levels of STAR Labs. I wonder if he liked the flowers. Standing at such altitude with the wind blowing lightly had calmed you a bit. Looking down at the flower, you gripped it tightly before you began to pick off the petals one by one. The little moments you had with the goofy novelist surfaced to the forefront of your mind with each petal you held. Your little curious escapades. The little talks. The nights you’d visit him when Tracy wasn’t around.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” You murmured, a stray tear trickled down your cheek. The freesia symbolizes unconditional love and honor. “He loves me, he loves me not,” Your voice cracked as more tears fell. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

***

A frown presented itself on HR’s lips as he tilted his head to crack his neck. The crack relieved him tremendously. It didn’t make sense. The novelist mused to himself, setting aside the current chapter draft he was working on. The voice I heard was… different. It didn’t sound like Tracy’s. HR couldn’t get that voice out of his mind – the tenderness that was laced in the tone of that voice. Nothing like the slight shrill in Tracy’s. He eyed the flowers once more that day, their presence was prominent. If Tracy hadn’t brought those, then who had?

The team had helped situate HR in his room in order to vacate the med bay should another imminent event occur. He had overheard Cisco tell Wally that you were preoccupied with something in Star City – a bit of disappointment twinged inside him. HR had taken up doing bits of physical therapy for the rest of his body without moving his shoulder as much. His shoulder and arm remained in a crossbody sling. The flowers sat on his bedside counter; he tended to them as best as he could with the limited movement he had. Tracy protested that they don’t need to be around, but the novelist was vehement on keeping the plants. HR won’t deny the fact that he had gotten annoyed several times with her around when he needed thinking space for his writing. He couldn’t write with noise and nonsensical chatter, especially if it’s mainly coming from someone who doesn’t want to really listen to his input. She’d go on and on about her scientific research and such, but wouldn’t hear a word from HR regarding his writing. The longer the novelist was confined to his room for rest, the more he had time to think – to contemplate. Yes, he liked Tracy, but… it just seemed that she didn’t really see HR. She does all the talking; she doesn’t really ask about how I feel about things or ask me about my life, even things about Earth-19… It’s like she doesn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face. It’s not even my face that Tracy sees, just Randolph’s. Was I too quick to jump at the first person who showed interest in me? Had I rushed into ‘forever’ with her?

He tabled those thoughts for now. HR reached for his laptop; one hand opened it to start it up. While the device loaded, he grabbed his black-clear glasses and set them on his face. If anyone saw him as such, they wouldn’t be able to tell the physical difference between him and his handsome, yet grumpy doppelganger. Except for the eyebrow scar, but that was obscured by the glasses. HR did a couple of searches with a concentrated look. Surely, it was the person with that… angel-like voice.

“Hydrangeas,” HR whispered as his eyes skimmed over the text that had popped up. “The hydrangea represents gratitude, grace and beauty. It also radiates abundance because of the lavish number of flowers and the generous round shape. Its colors symbolize love, harmony and peace.” The Wells doppelganger scrolled further. “Pink hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions.” Interesting. HR continued his research, glancing at the other flower type that resting in the vase. “Forget-me-nots symbolize true love and respect. When you give someone these tiny blooms, it represents a promise that you will always remember them and will keep them in your thoughts. They are also considered a symbol of fidelity and faithfulness.” A particular link caught his eye, he clicked on it. The novelist read to himself the text once more, “Based on Christian lore, the story about forget-me-nots is that God was walking in the Garden of Eden. He saw a blue flower and asked it its name. The flower was a shy flower and whispered that he had forgotten his name. God renamed the flower as forget-me-not saying that He will not forget the flower.”

HR swallowed thickly; contrary to popular belief around here, he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he wasn’t a science-based genius, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an expert on other aspects of life and had basic common sense. The author was emotionally intelligent and intact with the world around him. These flowers weren’t picked out on accident. But who would do that? Who doesn’t want me to forget about them? The dark-haired man shook his head slightly as he shut his laptop. A surge of sadness welled inside him at the notion of ‘being forgotten’. Who had he done that to? He’d get to the bottom of this mystery in due time. Right now, I need to jog my memory on what I was writing. A hand found a rough draft paper, his eyes scanned over the words he had typed out. His brows creased as the written notes he’d made on the paper as well. (Y/N) … I had… What had I been writing about again? The novelist read each line, each note he had made no drafts and scratch paper.

The hairs at the back of his neck stood up as realization hit him the more he had read on. The drafts, the notes, all of it – the little novel he had been writing regarding his adventures. But this particular part of his story – the ‘angel’ in his story. The one who stuck by him since coming here, the one who had given him a safe space… And the one he hadn’t seen since waking up. How could he forget? HR lowered the paper; his eyes became half-lidded as guilt shot through him. Before Barry had gone to the future and gotten hints of Tracy with her Speed Bazooka, HR had been working on his book. A book that he had pushed off to stick with Tracy and help in any way that he can to make the speed weapon possible. He had gotten distracted from doing the things he loves. A few conjectures arose in his mind as he slipped his glasses off, one arm end pressed to his lips. His heart hammered into his chest; you were among the last faces he had seen before passing out that night.

The irony. How could I forget that (Y/N) was the ‘angel’ in my story?

***

“Look at you, up and at ‘em.” Cisco strolled into the lounge with a cheeky grin. The mechanical genius didn’t take HR for granted anymore, not with the stunt he pulled. No, Cisco willingly checked up on him – not just for you, but for himself. HR had truly become one of his close friends in the end, especially with all the advice about Gypsy. “What are you cooking up this time?”

“Just an omelet with a side of bacon and toast, Francisco,” HR turned to the mechanical engineer who continued to tinker away at the schematics to get Barry out of the Speedforce. He offered Cisco some with a gesture only for the scientist to politely decline. “I haven’t seen (Y/N) anywhere. Um, is she also…?”

“Oh, you know how she’s like. Either up in the vents or chilling in her birds’ nest on the roof. And on that note, our resident hummingbird has become quite the firecracker.”

HR raised an eyebrow at his friend. “How so?”

“She punched Savitar square in the face then decked him multiple times over when Barry brought him in. Harry had to be the one to pull her away – well, more like carry her away kicking and screaming bloody murder at him. It sounded badass; wish I had been there to see it.”

The Wells doppelganger gritted his teeth at the mental image of Harry carrying you – touching you. The thought ruffled his feathers for some reason. HR expertly masked his irritation, turning the stove off and assembling the food on his plate. “Why?”

“Because he hurt you, HR.”

“…”

“He almost killed you.” And that was unforgivable, especially to her. “We almost lost you. She almost lost you.”

A rough sigh escaped HR as Cisco had sent him a knowing look before exiting the STAR Labs lounge. The Earth-19 man chewed on the inside of his cheek. Only a fool would misunderstand Cisco’s subtle intentions. HR knew what he had to do – he’d been reflecting on his time here, thinking about the people around him, about the relationships he’s formed. The novelist glanced outside – the sun shined, the birds chirped, and the trees rustled with the wind.

And the world continues to move on.

***

“When are you going to tell him?”

“…” You tensed at the abrupt voice. You snapped your head up, eyes darting to find Cisco approaching you with pocketed hands in his gray-black jacket. He wore a Bulbasaur shirt. The clouds surged by with the intensity of the breeze. Your hair blew over your shoulders slightly. Tilting your head, you turned back to watch the city. Days had passed and you refused to see HR, content on what Cisco had been telling you. He’d been recovering tremendously well, but… you didn’t really want to hear about what he and Tracy were up to. It wounded you. “Tell who, what?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Ms. I’m-going-to-put-my-feelings-in-a-box.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ohohohoho, no. I am tired of the love eyes, the lingering gazes, the pining. It ends.” Your best friend came to sit down next to you with that frustrated look on his face. “I know you have powers.” Your heart stopped in your chest at his accusation. “I know you used your powers to heal HR.” You bit down on your lip, not wanting to validate his statement. Cisco saw “I analyzed the wounds, looked at his healing at a microscopic level. I’m not Caitlin, but even I can pick up a few things. His cells were excelled to heal, but there were residues of your genetic markers at the wound point. You stitched his wounds together, cell-by-cell. My point is: why didn’t you say anything? Your powers are a-”

“-A curse.”

“What?”

“They’re a curse.” You threw a hard look at Cisco, making sure your hands wouldn’t touch him. “I can’t be playing God, Cisco. And… it’s unpredictable, volatile. I could either heal the life in my hands or take it away. I could rip someone ‘cell-by-cell’, Cisco. There’s no ‘in between’, not this time. He got lucky with my powers. He got lucky I didn’t make things 100% irreversible.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Cisco eyed the gloves you wore; it wasn’t the season for leather gloves.

“Because I didn’t want to give anyone false hope.”

“You don’t want to give yourself false hope, you mean.”

“…I can’t even heal a plant, Cisco. No matter how hard I tried, it wilted further. It’s a curse.”

“That’s not guaranteed every time, you know. It takes practice – discipline to get your powers to work with you instead of for you.” He nudged your shoulder with his, turning his gaze to the flock of birds drifting through the wind. “You know, he broke up with Tracy.”

“Ok?”

“Happened a week ago. She didn’t take it well and let me tell you. Tracy Brand was livid – the rage and yelling were off the charts. I think she has Harry beat. I knew it wasn’t going to last anyway, it was too superficial to begin with.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to sound uninterested, but deep down you were relieved. You heard a little ring in your ear. You wondered…

“She’s gone, won’t be coming here anymore.

“Ok.”

“So, go make your move.”

You turned abruptly to face him. “Cisco, have you thought that maybe HR doesn’t want to dive into a relationship right away? That… maybe he needs space to focus on himself?” All were things you had contemplated for yourself before.

“And what better way to do that than with a new roommate.”

“Excuse me?”

“Surprise, you’re getting a temporary roommate while we fully fix up things around the labs. I volunteered you since you have the space and the patience to deal with HR.” Your blood froze in your veins.

“Francisco Ramon, I am going to-”

“-Thank me, you’re going to thank me.” He had already breached away before you had the chance to strangle him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the idea of HR living with you, even if it was a temporary living arrangement. You scolded your heart for beating loudly in your chest. One hand gripped tightly to your other. An audible sigh escaped you as your mind played with the idea.

Shit, what am I going to do?

***Day 1***

Cisco blew out an exhausted breath, setting down another box on top of a box in the guest room. You and the mechanical genius had been breaching back and forth with HR’s things as said novelist was crippled. His arm would take about another four weeks to heal. About 20 percent of shoulder fractures are displaced and may require some type of manipulation to restore normal anatomy. Occasionally the rotator cuff muscles are injured or torn at the same time as the fracture. Fortunately for HR, his rotator cuff muscles weren’t as damaged. This can further complicate the treatment. Therefore, in that time, HR would just be handling the lighter stuff, bless his heart. The novelist entered the room with his black backpack slung over his functioning shoulder – it was the last thing that he could carry.

“I think there’s one more box left,” HR pointed with his thumb towards his back direction, the breach closing behind him.

“I’ll go get it, not a problem. Why don’t you two get started on unpacking, huh?” HR shrugged with one shoulder and stepped away to set his bag down by the bed. Cisco threw a cheeky look your way when HR had his back turned, his eyebrows wiggling. ‘Have fun love birds,’ the scientist had mouthed at you. You flicked him off with a deadpanned look. Instantly you dropped it when the Wells doppelganger turned as Cisco snickered before he breached away. He gave you a confused look, but you waved it off.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For allowing me to stay obviously. And for all the help since I’m, well, a bit tangled up at the moment.”

He was referring to the cross-body sling that clung onto him like a spider. HR rubbed the back of his neck, and you didn’t miss the way his bicep flexed at the motion in that gray short-sleeve shirt. Calm the fuck down, it’s just a toned muscle. You’ve seen things like that before. The puppy-like smile HR sent you had your cheeks warming up. The gentle smile that made your heart melt all over again. You cleared your throat as you reached for a box. “It’s no big deal, HR.” Undoing the tape seal with scissors, you opened the box- and the first thing you see are a pair of handcuffs accompanied by a silky black blindfold.

“What’s in the box?”

A little noise left you as you shut the flaps of the box, trying to seal it again. The flaps remained downward in the box. “Nope, nothing. Just some clothes here. I’m going to get that one box from the living room.” You had backtracked right into the door, your nose throbbed in response at the collision. “Ow,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing the skin.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine,” your response was quick, but not rude. A deep chuckle made its way to your ears as you scrambled out the room, your heart hammering in your chest. Your thoughts scolded you for being so awkward and flustered around him. Be cool, just chill out… The man you’re hopelessly in love with is just living with you temporarily, it’s not like anything will amount from this. You picked up the last box in the living room, hoping that just clothes would be in here and not anymore kink toys. I mean… I have toys, too. AW SHIT, I HAVE TO HIDE THEM!

HR’s eyes never left you as you made your panicked exit. He let out a little breath before shuffling over to the box you had been attending to. Immediately, he face-palmed hard when he had opened it with one hand. His face felt impossibly hot at what you had seen. She must think I’m an idiot or something. His mind thought back to when you helped him shop for some new clothes then it had gotten ruined from a meta. His hand fell away from his face, the image of your kind grin imprinted in his mind. I am an idiot, though. A fool.

Once Cisco returned, you three continued unpacking HR’s things for the time he’d spend here. The labs were still in ‘piss-poor’ shape according to Cisco and that he’ll need to consult with Harry and Wally regarding repairs.

“HR, how are you showering?”

“Um, like a normal person?” A dumbfounded look crossed HR’s features as he set the plate of sandwiches down. The novelist had knitted his eyebrows at Cisco. He had taken up to experimenting in the kitchen when he wasn’t writing. The tea and coffee were still brewing in your kitchen.

“No, I mean with how your shoulder is injured,” Cisco snuck an evil look at you, you returned it with a glare, “must be hard handling it alone.” You knew exactly where this dumbass wanted to take this conversation, so you stayed silent as to not get caught in the crossfire.

HR thought to himself for a moment. “Just a bit, but I’ve gotten used to the mild discomforts and pain. I can mostly reach everything thanks to my long limbs. But I think the nice thing is that it’s an internal issue, not an external one. An external injury or wound would require me to really have help with showering that way the area doesn’t get infected or irritated with the contents of soaps.” A laugh fell from his lips, but his mind wondered what his friend was playing at while you were around.

“I’m just saying, if you ever need a hand well,” Cisco trailed off with a smirk, chomping on his third sandwich.

Oh, I see. Devious, but a futile effort. “I’ll make sure you’re the first one I ask for help,” HR teased with a smirk of his own for Cisco to drop his in disgust. A cough escaped you, which had HR’s eyes land on you. Your eyes met for a moment before you deviated your gaze. HR felt hypnotized for a moment. Hm… The engineer quickly recovered from HR’s snide remark.

“Alright kids, I’ll be going now. The labs require some diligent work that I, a capable and distinguished engineer, could only do.”

“Yet, we still have the occasional security issues,” You sipped your tea once the snarky comment was out. HR stifled a chuckle, but you heard it. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly at the notion.

“Hey, that’s not fair. They always come up with something new to invade our space by.” Cisco pointed a finger at you, mocking a hurtful expression on his face. It dropped into a sneaky smile. “Make good choices and always use protection, you two!” He breached away before you could throw your cup at him.

***Multiple Days Pass***

Through his time here, you noticed HR fueled to write what’s on his mind in the guest room. You could only assume that he continued his adventure story. Sometimes he would venture out for some coffee or take a walk to give his creativity a break. Keeping that in mind, you gave HR the space he needed as well as all noises to a minimum. You knew he liked the quiet atmosphere to pour his heart and soul into words as he did research for a scene. Pulling your jacket on, you compiled a list of groceries before you stepped out of your apartment. Locking the door, you headed out to the store picking up a few necessities as well as some snacks for HR. Like Harry, the novelist can easily lose himself in his task – which meant that he tended to forget about eating and such. You found a bag of Jitters coffee beans, adding it to your cart of items. Buying some snacks and fruit, you’d leave a note in the kitchen of the snacks when he emerged from his writing cave.

On the way back, you stopped by at Iris’ studio to check up on her. A few groceries for her as well were in hand. Cecile and you did your best to visit Iris. But you can’t deny that you blamed her to a certain extent. Had she spoken up once she had left Savitar’s place disguised as HR, HR wouldn’t have been hurt that night on Infantino Street. Surely, she could have contacted her father or Cisco or something. The transition could have been smoother. HR wouldn’t have been… The journalist was faring; she pushed through the pain and as Barry had told her ‘to keep living’. So, Iris did. She hadn’t been herself since Barry went into the Speedforce – she pushed too much, the smile wouldn’t reach her eyes sometimes. You sympathized; she lost the love of her life. But you almost had too.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, just… taking it one day at a time.” You nodded at her response, a small smile on your face. “How are things with you and HR? I heard of the temporary living conditions.”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m in my bubble and he’s in his doing his writing.”

“Right. Nothing going on whatsoever?”

“Iris.”

Iris set her cup of hot chocolate down and raised both hands in mock defeat. “We all saw it. We all see it.”

“See what?”

“How smitten you are for him.”

“I’m not-”

“-Don’t say you’re not. If you weren’t you, Harry wouldn’t have to pry you off Savitar before you clawed his eyes out.”

“…” You just looked into your tea, the honey that settled at the bottom. Iris placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t look at her.

“The heart will want what it wants, (Y/N). Pushing your feelings into a box and denying it out loud won’t change things.”

“I know.”

And my heart wants him, over and over again. Even if he can’t see me.

***

HR tapped his pencil against the desk at a steady pace. His mind wouldn’t focus on the words in front of him, on the scene he wanted to set. Instead, it kept drifting further from it. Further towards you: your eyes, your smile, the kindness that you held; the serenity that your existence held as the world continued to turn and chaos had unfolded at each turn. HR didn’t see much of you while he was here, the novelist missed your company. You were here, but you weren’t really here. You were either in your room or at the balcony with a book or on the couch with your Switch. He didn’t want to bother you, but… sometimes HR just wanted to sit beside you and pull you close to talk. To hold you in his arms and ask you about your day, to understand what you were thinking. HR cracked his back in a stretch from where he sat on his bed, being mindful of his injured shoulder. It didn’t hurt as it had originally done a few weeks back. The Wells doppelganger noticed that you were careful to avoid touching him or him touching you. Not even a hug that you used to graciously give him. You were especially guarded with your hands. A rough sigh left him as he threw his pencil down. The frustration was setting in, he was getting nowhere. You consumed his thoughts. HR wondered if you were revolted by him but doesn’t verbalize his thoughts to you. He didn’t think you’d give him your truthful answer. Maybe she is revolted by me. She did find the cuffs and the blindfold… No, she knew about the cuff stage thing well before that.

The sound of the front door greeted his ears followed by the soft tune of music. A frown made its way onto his face. Might as well take a break. HR stretched once more when he fully stood up, a little noise of relief left his lips. He cracked his back once more before smelling himself. For safe measure, the novelist sprayed a bit of cologne on himself and turned off the candle he had on. He mentally noted to take a shower after dinner since his last was yesterday. He liked the feeling of being clean, to be honest. HR carded a hand through his hair. I need a haircut soon, too. Yeesh, I feel like I’m letting myself go. Once I’m all healed it’s back to proper cuts and the labs’ recreation room. He wanted to go back to lifting weights and doing yoga for body stability purposes – especially now because of his shoulder. HR rested a hand on his chest, the wound had healed completely, but a scar remained. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw the groceries on the table and heard you whisper along with the lyrics. The music was set to a low level that your whispers were audible enough. He watched you sway a bit with the tune.

So please don't break my heart

Don't tear me apart

I know how it starts

Trust me I've been broken before

Don't break me again

I am delicate

Please don't break my heart

Trust me I've been broken before

The guitar tune pulled at his heart, feeling the raw emotion behind the lyrics. He eyed you for a moment. HR cleared his throat to make his presence known, he knew you didn’t like to be snuck up on. However, a little gasp left you from where you were. “You went out shopping?”

You looked up from where you crouched to put away the cereal. “Uh yeah, we were running low on some stuff.” You shut the cabinet and went to the other items you had bought. The music continued to delicately play.

“Need any help?”

“Um, sure. Uh, just set these into the cabinet on the left.” Normal, be normal. He’s not going to eat you or anything. Distance is good. Distance keeps you safe. You didn’t meet his eyes, the eyes that’d pull you in and never let you out – your heart shook with him here and the song that played. You were hoping HR wouldn’t come out while you prepped dinner to have a sort of peace of mind. The next song played before you could stop it-

My last made me feel like I would never try again

But when I saw you, I felt something I never felt

Come closer, I'll give you all my love

If you treat me right, baby, I'll give you everything

“I like this song,” HR started as he was finishing up with putting his side of the groceries away. Another guitar-like song that brought out the soft feelings of love and rejection. HR mused to himself if fate had planned this out. If this was some sort of sign or a cruel joke… You had stopped yourself from clicking the button to skip the song at his comment. You don’t know what possessed you to let him indulge in another song that you’ve cried to late at night. “Hey, I can cook dinner tonight. I have something I’ve been wanting to try. I’m not that crippled so I can manage with a few cookware.” HR chuckled to himself, a goofy grin on his face. Your heart leapt in your chest; his grin caused a small smile to pull at your lips. “You can wash up first?”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting his icy blues. You felt your cheeks warm up slightly as the nerves crawled up your spine. “Oh, ok. Cool, yeah. Can’t wait to see what you cook up.” You nodded, ducking your head away and shuffling out of the kitchen with that shy smile on your face. You missed the longing look he had sent you as you fastened your steps to head to your room.

God I love that smile. What goes on in that little head of yours? We used to be so close… before Tracy came into the picture. HR pulled out the spices and the chicken breast. He shook his head and proceeded to prep the food with his one useful hand. I need to consult Francisco.

***

“We need to talk,” HR’s voice broke the silence in the side lab of the Cortex. He had breached to the labs using the Breach Extrapolator after he had showered and such. His damp hair was pushed back in HR’s normal style.

“About what?” Cisco raised a concerned eyebrow at the writer, stopping what he had been doing.

“(Y/N).”

A nervous laugh left Cisco as he went back to attempting to make the necessary modifications to the Speed Bazooka. Tracy was reluctant to help the mechanical engineer after the breakup. “What about (Y/N)?” Cisco put down his screwdriver. “Did you do something weird to her?”

“What? No! I- we used to be closer. We always talked, we’d hang out after a long day here at the labs.”

“Uh huh.”

“And, maybe it’s just me, but things have changed.”

“How so?” Cisco was wondering what conclusion HR was leading himself to.

“Things changed when Tracy came into the picture.”

Cisco made a little ‘o’ with his mouth with a little nod before closing it. He pushed a rough sigh past his lips, he was getting really tired of this puppy love game. “Why do you think that?��

“Francisco, she flinches when I get close – almost when I touch her… Does she hate me?”

“I think you and I know the answer to that one. But I think the real question should be: Why do you care so much? Why does it bother you? Do you love her, HR?”

The novelist tensed a bit. “…” HR pursed his lips as Cisco walked around the table that the speed weapon was mounted on. Blueprints were scattered on one table while the glass board held variables and equations he could not decipher. “What?”

“I said what I said,” the mechanical genius smoothly responded. One look at HR and Cisco knew that he was baffled by his forward words. But they needed to be said. “Now run along and use that head of yours to think about what your heart wants. Barry isn’t going to get himself out of the Speedforce.”

***

Cisco’s words mulled through HR’s mind as he breached back to your apartment’s living room. Only the lamp light on the side table was on. HR’s eyes landed on you, who laid on the couch with the book you had been reading on the back ledge of the couch. The novelist took off his shoes and set down his bag. He had detoured to the bookstore, looking for the next installment of your current book. The Wells doppelganger had assumed you didn’t buy it yet as it was vacant from your bookshelf. The gentle giant stepped silently closer to you; the dim light cast over you like a glow. There were slight bags under your eyes. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Spotting a large and fluffy blanket near, HR grabs it and lays it on top of you. He remembered you mentioned to him prior that you easily get cold, especially at night. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, HR contemplated something before his body moved impulsively. The novelist placed a gentle kiss on your forehead; his lips lingered for a few more seconds. Pulling back, HR watched your chest rise and fall. He turned the light off and stumbled over to his room with his phone light guiding him. He knew what he was going to write. Cisco’s question pestered him enough though.

Do you love her, HR?

HR took one look out his door before shutting it, his heart squeezed tightly in his chest as he whispered, “Goodnight, my angel.” Only the shadows that lingered were a witness to the fondness laced in those simple words.

***

You woke up with a start, you hand instantly smacking right into your chest. Heavy breaths left you as your nerves were in overdrive. Cold sweat beaded your skin as you gasp for air. It was another night terror – the same one for a few weeks now; a new way in which you caused HR’s death. Swallowing thickly, you screw your eyes tightly shut and whisper the mantra that calmed you down. After a few minutes, you started to regain control of your breathing – the thoughts that ravaged your mind finally ceased like the tides subsiding after a tsunami. You blinked languidly, hating nights like these. They weren’t rare, but they weren’t an uncommon occurrence. Deciding that you needed to step out for some air, you did so with the intent of getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Your fingers found the lights for the dimmers in your room, setting it to its lowest setting for you to see yourself out.

Cracking the door open, you were instantly met with the scene of HR passed out on the couch again. He’s been doing that for around two weeks now, the couch his new base of operations. His mouth was slightly open as little snores escaped him. A lovestruck smile crossed your features at the sight. Papers were littered around him, on the ground, and on the tables. Must be the manuscript he’s working on for his final draft. I hope I can read it at some point. Coming back from the kitchen with the water in hand you couldn’t help but stop to admire the sight. You noticed the glasses still perched on his face. Moving as silent as a ninja, you inched closer to pull off the glasses from his face. They’ll break if he keeps them on while he sleeps. Then he won’t see for shit when reading things. You nibbled on your bottom lip as your eyes drifted to the papers. One peek won’t hurt anyone. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Seating yourself on the ground, you leaned your back against the foundation of the couch. You were opposite to where HR’s upper body was. If there were any telltale signs of him waking, you’d hightail out before he could fully wake up and process what you were doing. Picking up a small stack, you started sifting through them. Your mind became engrossed with the words – the beginnings of the story he had spun about his adventures as to how he came to Earth-1. Then… mentions of an angel eluded you. It couldn’t be Tracy, could it? I know they broke up, but… on the other hand, it doesn’t mean that he can’t say that she was his angel at the time. Like a character development thing leading to their break up?? Well fuck, I don’t even think he’d mention such a personal thing in his book. I know I wouldn’t… would I? I don’t know. A little smile danced at your lips while you read on about the synonymous things regarding Team Flash that you failed to notice HR rouse from sleep.

“Do you like it?” Lethargy intertwined his words. A stunned noise left you as you clutched the papers. You turned to see HR rubbing his eyes before gazing at you.

I could get lost in those eyes if I stared too long.

“Uh, yeah, its- it’s really good,” you stuttered, setting the papers down in your lap. Embarrassment of getting caught gripped you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind you taking a peek. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of in it.” HR shifted his lithe body to sit next to you on the ground.

“Oh.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s not that important, I’ll be ok.”

“If you say so,” HR’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m here if you want to talk.” You nodded at him, whispering a little thank you. HR ran a hand over his knee, he took a glimpse at you who stared at the papers. He noticed what chapter you hand been reading – the angel was making an appearance in the story. The hair at the back of his neck stood while you thumbed the words on the paper back in forth, just lost in your mind. Your hair was messy from sleep, the bags under your eyes were still there. It killed him how you wouldn’t confide in him anymore. But he didn’t push you. You would open up to him if you wanted to or not, even if he wanted you to do so as so his mind can be at ease with knowing what’s going on with you. Cisco’s question sprang up in his mind once more before he licked his lips, his eyes watching you. “I do.”

You gave HR a strange look. I do, what?

“Tracy wasn’t her.” Realization struck HR the more you whispered with him.

“Huh??”

“I heard this voice before I woke up.” The novelist fully turned to you with intense eyes, the enlightenment in them – the fire that burned brightly. “The tenderness in it could rival any tasteful delight in the multiverse.”

“A voice?”

“Mm, it made me think that only a heavenly deity would have such a voice.” You remained silent as he spoke. “I never got to hear that voice since my coma… until now?”

You tensed at what he was insinuating. “Now?”

“How could I forget?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“How could I forget about you?” The baritone huskiness in his voice made you melt with the way he said those words. You swallowed, trying to calm the butterflies that raged in the pit of your stomach. “The flowers that were left – beautiful, delicate, yet meaningful. You left those after visiting me.”

“…”

She didn’t deny it. “But you never visited when I was awake because of Tracy.”

“She hates me.”

“And I was too blind to see that until I broke up with her, she threw quite a fit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you must have loved her so much that it would be hard to let go.” She was your angel, after all.

“She didn’t even know me. Truly know me.”

“… Did she hurt you?”

“Slightly, but the bruise is gone.” You and he were silent for a moment. Only the sound of a distant car horn was heard from the streets. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?”

“The flowers, the visit…” HR licked his lips as a rough breath left him. His nerves were climbing, but he needed to do this. “Cisco told me what you did to Savitar when you saw him. How angry you were that Harry had to pry you off him – I was so angry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know then… but I know now.”

“And?”

“Tracy was never the one written in my story – she didn’t care. She didn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face obsessed with coffee. You did.” HR tucked your hair behind your ear, carefully gauging your reaction. He saw how you tried not to flinch away from him. “Do you hate me?” He asked as he retracted a hand from you, happy that he was at least getting through to you.

“Never could I feel such a way towards you.” You hesitated for a moment before testing the waters. You started to explain, “I- the night you were stabbed by Savitar I… I just broke. I pushed Tracy away, I had Barry rush you back to the labs. You were dying, unconscious on the gurney and… I got to work trying to resuscitate you. I had Cisco take care of Tracy while I worked, I needed space to think clearly, but I couldn’t. When- when the others were preoccupied with Iris’ appearance, I used these powers.” It was now or never. “I was desperate. Your life was hanging by a thread- I didn’t think it was going to work, but nothing else was working. You were bleeding so much. But I had to try. I…” Your glassy eyes locked back on his, your hands pulled close to your body. HR understood now why you never tried touching him. Why you are avoiding getting too close. “Cisco found out, he confronted me. But these powers, life isn’t guaranteed. They’re volatile, unprecedented – regardless of how I feel in the moment the balance can tip between giving a life and taking one.” There was a tightness in your chest as your voice cracked, “I’m cursed, I could hurt you.” I’m dangerous.

“I don’t think you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

“But I do,” HR reached a hand out to hold yours. Tension filled your heart as panic started to settle. “You wouldn’t let yourself hurt me. It would pain you too much.” HR squeezed your slightly shaky hand, his other hand still bound by the cross-sling. “My life is in your hands.”

“How can you trust me so much?”

“Because love cannot be built without a foundation of trust.” He placed a sweet kiss on the knuckles of your hand. “And understanding.” He took the other and kissed it, baby blue eyes shifted back to yours with such intense emotion. The adoration that filled the author to the brim for you. Just for you. Only you. The one who saw him for everything and anything that he is. His safe space – the one other thing he wanted to be for you as well. He wanted to eliminate any fears that resided in your heart, the pain and doubt that remained.

“Do you hate me?”

HR cupped your cheek tenderly as he leaned close, your heart wanted to stop as blood rushed to your cheeks and ears. Your half-lidded eyes shut slowly as his lips skimmed over your own. “Never in my life, angel,” the novelist whispered as he captured your lips in a tender and sentimental kiss.

Never in my life could I hate the one who my heart has yearned for.

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells #hr wells x reader #hr wells #hr wells imagine #the flash cw #the flash #harrison wells imagines #earth 19 harrison wells #cw #cisco ramon #tracy brand #iris west #Iris West-Allen

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jungshookz · 4 years

Text

cream a little dream of me; knj

➺ pairing; kim namjoon x reader

➺ genre; lveb!universe, you’ve been asking for this and i’m finally here to tell you that this is smut! nsfw! 18+! oral sex (receiving)! dirty talk! namjoon has a dirty mouth and y/n is into that!! y/n’s a great listener and namjoon is very into that!! also frosting is involved somewhere

➺ wordcount: 8.9k

➺ summary; y/n has a wet dream about namjoon and yoongi just wants to help his best friend get laid.

➺ what to expect; “it’s not a big deal or anything, but, uh... when were you planning on telling me about that nice little dream you had two weeks ago?”

➺ optional reading: here’s the link to la vie en bonsai if you haven’t read it yet or if you just want to experience the story all over again!

»»————-　☁️　————-««

to say the least, yoongi is… confused.

in the three years that he’s been friends with you, he likes to think that he’s seen every single one of your emotions

but this?

this is different somehow… yet he can’t quite put his finger on what’s so different about it...

he’s seen elated y/n

he’s seen devastated y/n

he’s seen infuriated y/n

he’s seen stressed out y/n

but this y/n?

the starry-eyed and constantly looking like you’re day dreaming y/n?

he can safely say he’s never seen this version of you before and it’s a little concerning because now he has no idea what the protocol is

even back when you guys were in university you practically never daydreamed during lectures

you were always focused on the professor and whatever powerpoint was playing on the screen with a concerning amount of intensity

one time, yoongi put his hand over your eyes just to be funny and you nearly snapped his wrist off

“okay, seriously?” yoongi waves his hand in front of your face for the fifth time in half an hour before shaking his head gently, “what’s gotten into you?”

you blink quickly when you snap out of your little daze, looking at him and setting the bowl of batter down on the counter before checking out the damage you’ve done

you’re supposed to fold this batter

not whIP it

now it’s ruined and you’re going to have to start all over!

“i don’t know what that batter ever did to you, but you might need to take it down a notch before you sprain your wrist…” yoongi trails off, leaning over a little and wondering if he can get away with dipping his finger in for a teeny tiny taste

sure, he might get salmonella or whatever from ingesting raw eggs, but it’ll be worth it

“also, what are you even making?” he frowns, gesturing to all the items splayed on the counter, “because there are like ten different things going on here-”

you look around the kitchen before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck

you... don’t really have an answer for him

there’s bread dough over here

three bowls of frosting (chocolate, cream cheese, buttercream) over there

some chopped up peaches on the cutting board

the puff pastry is de-frosting in the fridge

there’s a pie baking in the oven at the moment

you just finished greasing up a mini cupcake tin

and don’t forget about the bowl of batter you’re currently whipping the life out of

(let the record show that you have no idea what you’re making. you have no clue what this batter is for. and why’d you take out your set of food-colouring dye??)

you just needed to let off some steam and this is the only way you know hoW

“isn’t this great? working out in the comfort of my own personal gym…”

both you and yoongi look over towards the kitchen door when you hear jin’s voice ring through namjoon’s laptop from the living room

yoongi perks up in interest when you suddenly scurry over to spy at namjoon through the crack of the door before he gets up to follow you

“yeah, easy for you to say-” namjoon grunts as he pushes himself up off the ground so he can clap his hands together quickly before his palms land back on the ground in a solid thump

he thought push-ups were already awful as is so he wasn’t very pleased when jin told him to start doing them with claps in between each set

also, jin has access to a full-blown gym in his house, but namjoon doesn’t have any access to actual weights so he’s had to resort to using jugs of water instead

it’s actually working out pretty well!

he took the sweeper part of the broom off and then used a lot of duct tape (and patience) to tape the jugs to both sides of the pole

he felt like he was mulan from that one part of the movie except mulan is probably physically stronger than him

“you know, i’m surprised he hasn’t smashed his face against the floor yet...” yoongi snorts as he continues to peer at namjoon over your shoulder

he waits a couple seconds for you to respond but frowns when you let out a short little sigh while keeping your eyes glued on your sweaty boyfriend

...

see?!

you’re doing it again!!!!

you have your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth and your eyes have gone all lidded and hazy

your grip around the edge of the door is really tight and your knuckles are going kind of white

good god

yoongi narrows his eyes suspiciously before jabbing your shoulder roughly, “hey. what are you thinking about?”

you shake your head a little too quickly for his liking before turning back around and brushing past him to get back to the counter

huh

okay

something’s up for sure

he doesn’t know if it’s good or bad or whatever but he’s going to find out

your cheeks and the tips of your ears are a little flushed now which is even more interesting

what could possibly be going on in that little noggin of yours?

“tell me what you were thinking about.” yoongi sits back down on the stool as he stares you down across the counter, “y/n- look at me.”

“i’m not-” you glance up at yoongi for a quick second before looking back down, “nothing!” you mutter, your arm starting to move faster as you continue whipping the mystery batter

yoongi immediately points to the ball of dough sitting a couple feet away from him, “tell me what you were thinking about or i’ll eat that ball of raw dough right noW-”

“-!” you set the bowl down before scrambling to move the dough out of yoongi’s reach

he’s eaten raw dough before (it was raw cookie dough and he took bites of it every time you turned to face away from him) which resulted in him suffering for like 48 hours and you’re not taking any chances

“you can’t keep secrets from me.” yoongi deadpans, “aren’t we best friends? don’t you trust me?” he bats his lashes at you before pushing his bottom lip out in a pout, “because i certainly trust you… and you, out of all people, should know how hard it is for me to trust someone…”

your eye twitches

you know he’s only saying all of this to butter you up so that you’ll inevitably give in and tell him what’s going on... and you hate that it’s actually working...

look at that face!

those cheeks!!!

those eyes!!!!

“i…” you trail off, biting the inside of your cheek as you contemplate whether it’s a good idea or not to tell yoongi what exactly’s been going on with you lately

if you tell him, he’ll stop bugging you about it

then again, if you tell him, he might keep bugging you about it

but he’s already suspicious of you so it seems like you don’t really have a choice...

this is really a lose-lose situation, if you think about it

...damn.

“hey, do you remember that time you were crying really hard and i made you feel better by telling you that i kind of sort of loved you...?” yoongi mentions casually while inspecting his nail beds, his eyes flickering up towards your face for a quick second to see your reaction

he bites back a smirk of success when he hears you let out a sigh

ha HA

hook, line, and sinker bABY

“okay, fine, but-” you slam the bowl down on the counter before placing your hands on your hips, ”it’s a secret. between us!” you gesture for him to come over to you

“god, finally-!” yoongi nods enthusiastically and hops off the stool before scurrying over to join you at the other side of the counter

you lift your hand up so the side of your mouth is covered and yoongi reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist, grinning excitedly as you whisper something into his ear

…

yoongi’s jaw drops

holy shit

no wonder he hasn’t seen you act like this before!

this isn’t elated y/n or disappointed y/n or excited y/n

a new player has entered the ring

this is HORNY Y/N

“you… little… horndog!” yoongi cackles with glee as he claps his hands together wildly, “you, y/n y/l/n- you had a wet dream?!”

you feel your anxiety spike at how loud yoongi’s being and you make a gesture to try to get him to use his inside voice but he doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to you at all right now

“wow...” yoongi laughs lightly, crossing his arms as he looks up towards the ceiling, “i mean, welcome to puberty, i guess. a bit of a late start if you ask me, but either way i’m actually pretty proud of you for basically creaming your-”

“shh!” you quickly shove a spoon into yoongi’s mouth and he spits it out immediately

it falls onto the counter with a clang

to be honest, you actually don’t remember too much of the dream

flashes of namjoon’s head in between your legs and his strong arms wrapped around your thighs pinning you down pop into your mind every now and again to taunt you

but other than that

nothing!

it’s just that joon’s been working out a lot lately (jin’s trying to get in better shape because of one photo where the shadow made it look like he had a double chin and it traumatised him) so it makes sense that he’s turning into an actual beefcake now

the other day you accidentally busted a bag of icing in your hands after squeezing it too hard because you were watching namjoon doing bicep curls with the milk jugs

his arms just….,,.

you want to bite into them

or dig your nails into them

or just look at them!

you would be perfectly content with just staring at them 24/7!

now, the issue here is that you...

you don’t really know…

you don’t know how to initiate things with namjoon

it’s awkward!

…on your end, that is

since getting together, you and namjoon have had plenty of heated make-out (and slight groping) sessions but you always end up chickening out as soon as you feel things starting to escalate

you just get nervous that you’re going to do something wrong and it’ll pop the love-bubble you guys are in right now!!

and you really don’t want to pop anything!!

and namjoon, being the sweet, kind, caring, considerate, wonderful, absolutely flawless boy he is, never has an issue with it because his number one priority is making sure that you’re comfortable

he’s totally okay with moving at your pace!

but after the last couple of times where you’ve left him high and dry, you notice that he either a) puts a pillow over his lap almost immediately and tries to change the subject or b) waddles off to the bathroom for a ‘pee break’

you feel awful knowing that you’re blue-balling him but you don’t want to take things further if there’s even a slight possibility of you ruining things

so... yeah!

your only stress reliever has been baking which isn’t new

you’ve stress baked before but this is a nEW type of stress baking

this is the most chaotic level of stress baking there is because everything’s just a disorganised MESS

“you know what, it actually makes sense now,” yoongi reaches up to stroke his chin in thought before nodding to himself, “you’ve been acting so weird lately that i thought i did something wrong- and it turns out you’ve just been excruciatingly horny this entire time-”

“lower your voice!” you hiss, hurrying over to the door to make sure namjoon’s not listening in to what should be a private conversation if yoongi wasn’t so damn loud

he may be in the living room but who knows how far your voices can travel??

you peek out to look at poor namjoon who looks like he’s just about ready to pass ouT from exhaustion

he lets out an almost animalistic growl as he pushes himself up off the ground one last time and you feel a tingle in your southern region

if you were a cartoon character there would be gigantic hearts pumping out of your eyes, your tongue would roll out of your mouth like a red carpet, and a horn would be blasting aooga in the background

“okay, well - you can’t not tell me about what happened in it.” you turn back around to face yoongi, “give me all the details!!!!” he wiggles his brows as he leans down and folds him arms atop the counter, “and get real nasty with it because i haven’t had sex in months-”

“no way!” you scoff before crossing one arm over the other to make an ‘x’ sign at yoongi, “no! i don’t remember anything.”

“you’re lying to me.” the smile on yoongi’s face drops and he scowls at you, “you totally are!”

“am not! it’s true.” you chirp, nodding satisfactorily when yoongi doesn’t respond

good

the topic has been dropped and now you can focus your attention back on this weird, runny batter you’re still beating the life out of

“...what about if i guess?”

you pause

oh no

you don’t like that idea at all

you don’t get a chance to shake your head nO before yoongi starts listing out all your possible wet-dream scenarios

“he was finger-fucking you.”

“you were sucking him off?”

“he was eating you out!”

“69? you on top? or was it him on top? …no, it was probably you on to-”

“a classy combination of tongue and fingers? ooh, quick question- how quickly did dreamjoon find your g-spo-”

“missionary! can’t go wrong with good ol’ fashioned missio-”

“doggystyle? cowgirl! reverse cowgirl? or was he kind of, like, spooning you from behi-”

“ooh! plot twist! you gave him the strap-”

“butt-stuff! butt-stuff?? butt-stuff but the plug had a tail on- oh-ho, it was butt-stuff, wasn’t it-”

“something with a belt? something with cuffs? something with leather?”

“roleplaying! he was a sexy gardener with a big ol’ hose and you were just an innocent wittle twree-”

“was he rawdogging you?”

your eyes immediately widen and you look up at yoongi for the first time since he started rambling, “wha- WHAT is that?!”

rawdogging??

that sounds like it’d give you carpet burn for some reason

“sex without a condom.” yoongi states as if it’s the most obvious fact in the entire world, “duh.”

god

boys are so

boyish!!!!

“why not just say that instead??” you ask incredulously, tilting your head

yoongi snorts, “well, because rawdogging sounds way hotter-”

your face screws up immediately, “does it really, though…?”

yoongi pauses before his face lights up, “aha! so dreamjoon WAS rawdogging y-”

“crude!” your entire face is bright red at this point and you hurry over to the fridge to grab a bag of frozen blueberries out of the freezer (for what purposes? you have no idea.)

“you think i’m being crude?” yoongi scoffs, “i think you’re being a prude. okay, lemme see what else i can think of-”

“yoongi, literally no one asked you to list-”

“were you grinding on his-” yoongi pauses again, “you know, like dry humping?” he hums before pushing himself up off the counter and placing both his palms flat on the surface of it, “i mean, i guess i can see why that’d be hot, you know, with clothes being restrictive and all- oh! were you getting off on his thigh? because a couple of girls have done that to me before and it was actually pretty hot AND since namjoon’s dna consists of 80% plant he basically has tree trunk thighs-”

“okay, i don’t remember too much-” you grab yoongi by the arm to yank him back in so you can whisper in his ear again

yoongi listens attentively

…

you clear your throat before shoving yoongi away to make it seem less suspicious if namjoon just so happens to come into the kitchen at this very moment

“surprisingly simple, but it does the trick, that’s for sure…” yoongi hums as he strokes his chin thoughtfully, “damn. i hyped it up way too much. that’s actually a pretty boring dream compared to what i’ve dreamt about, now that i think about it-”

you can’t help but roll your eyes as you open up the bag of blueberries

…what did you pull these out for again?

“well, what’s the problem?” yoongi frowns, “you guys are already dating. just go up to him and ask him if he wants to do stuff. if a girl told me that she creamed her panties because of me, i’d be ecstatic!”

“stop saying it like that-”

you feel a little weird talking about this with yoongi

he’s always been comfortable telling you about his sex life but you prefer to keep your intimate details private

it’s not that you don’t trust him or anything, because obviously you do, but… you’d feel more comfortable if you talked about this with a girl-friend, you know?

guys just don’t understand!

“i don’t know how to…” you shift in your spot, “ask.”

yoongi scoffs in response and crosses his arms, “y/n- namjoon is a man. men are simple. do you remember the other week when you invited me over for a breakfast and you dropped the spatula on the floor?”

you nod before tilting your head curiously, “…why?”

yoongi clears his throat

now he’S the one who looks slightly uncomfortable

“well...” he clears his throat, “namjoon was wearing sweats and i swear i wasn’t purposely looking- my eyes just happened to be looking downwards in that general direction naturally-”

“yoongi-”

“the man’s dick twitched in his sweats when you bent over, alright?” yoongi blurts out and your eyes immediately widen, “my point is: men are simple- painfully simple creatures. so... just ask him!”

you frown

just ask him??

was he even listening to you??

you just told yoongi you didn’t know how to ask namjoon and his advice was for you to ask namjoon

that’s like taking someone who doesn’t know how to swim and immediately tossing them into the OCEAN with a punctured life-ring

“god,” you roll your eyes before flicking your wrist at him, “just forget i told you!”

“hey!” yoongi gawks and shakes his head, “i can’t forget! now my only purpose in life is to get you some head-”

“jesus christ-!”

you jump ten feet into the air like a cat that’s just been sprayed by water when the kitchen door suddenly swings open and a sweaty namjoon stumbles in

“i think there’s sweat dripping into my contacts-”

“namjoon!” yoongi spins around in his stool and props his elbows up on the counter, “what a coincidence! we were just talking about you, my man…”

yoongi looks over at you with a cheeky grin and you shake your head stiffly before turning to get the jug of water from the fridge for namjoon

“oh yeah?” namjoon huffs as he places his hands on your hips from behind, sliding past you to grab a clean glass from the dish rack, “what about?”

“just about how…” yoongi looks back at you quickly and you shoot him a glare

he wouldn’t…

would he??

(he absolutely would.)

any word of your conversation and you’ll skin him alive

“-hard you’ve been working out lately!” yoongi chirps, “i mean, it looks like you were trapped in a washing machine-”

“oh, god. trust me, it’s so not worth it, i’m in so much pain-” namjoon winces and shakes his head, “you’re welcome to go and take my place if you want-”

“absolutely not-” yoongi snorts, “first of all, it’s the holidays, and everyone knows you don’t work out during december. also, you couldn’t pay me a million dollars to do a push-up. i’m perfectly happy with my somewhat doughy centre.” he pats his tummy with a happy hum and you can’t help but giggle

silly boy

namjoon laughs lightly before pausing to chug down some water, “i wish i could say the same. unfortunately, jin’s not giving me a choice-”

“sweaty!” you whine when namjoon suddenly wraps an arm around you from behind before kissing your cheek and he frowns playfully when you swat at his forearm, “and sticky…”

“relax, i’m about to hit the shower-” he nudges his nose against your cheek before pulling away, “and then i won’t be sticky and i’ll smell like peaches-”

“i should probably go, too.” yoongi gets up from his seat, “i just ordered my dinner and it’s going to arrive at my apartment in like half an hour.”

“wait!” you hold a finger out before turning to open up the cupboards for a tupperware box, “take some pie with you…”

»»————-　☁️　————-««

“still coming friday?” you ask as you watch yoongi put his shoes on

you asked yoongi if he would be interested in helping you decorate the apartment on friday (aka you told him he didn’t have a choice and that he had to come and help you whether he wanted to or not)

“mhm.” he glances up at you, “still ordering pizza?”

“mhm.”

you reach down to pat the top of yoongi’s head gently just because you want to and pauses in the middle of tying his laces to reach over and jab your stomach

“i know the main focus is decorating the place for christmas but i think you guys are going to love the nature documentary i picked for us to watch while-” namjoon chimes in but shuts up quickly when you and yoongi exchange knowing glances, “what?”

yoongi looks back up at you with a raised brow, “…does he really have to join us?”

“no choice.” you shrug casually and namjoon’s jaw drops

wha-

“oh, hold on-” yoongi gets up off the ground before patting his pockets down with a frown, “i think i left my keys in the kitchen… can you go and get them for me?”

you nod before turning to hurry to the kitchen

you don’t want him to get another parking ticket

it’s only after you disappear into the kitchen that yoongi swiftly pulls his keys out of his back pocket with a jingle

namjoon opens his mouth to say something but yoongi quickly holds his hand out to shut him up

“야 남준아- 어제 니 여친이 니 꿈 꿨데~ (y/n had a sex dream about you).” he chirps and gives namjoon two firm pats on his surprisingly firm chest before his eyes widen in surprise, “어우 딴딴해 운동 열심히 했나보네! (woah, you really have been working out! good man.)”

“yeah, i-” namjoon chokes, “wait, wha-”

“y/n, i found my keys! my bad!” yoongi calls out and gives you a thumbs up when you come out of the kitchen, “see you losers on friday!”

he gives namjoon a grin and a light punch to the arm before swiftly turning on his heel

namjoon’s eyes are as wide as saucers as yoongi shuts the front door behind him and he blinks rapidly before turning to look at you

you tilt your head at him curiously and namjoon swallows before offering you a sheepish smile

oh, boy.

»»————-　☁️　————-««

namjoon hasn’t been able to think straight since it was revealed to him that you had a sex dream about him.

it’s been an entire week that he’s learned this new piece of information and it’s been weighing verY heavily on his mind!!

when he wakes up his first thought is gee i wonder what y/n dreamt about

when seokjin’s rambling about god knows what the only thing in his mind is gee i wonder what y/n dreamt about

the last thing he thinks about before he goes to bed is gee i wonder what y/n dreamt about

and then his imagination conjures up what could’ve happened in your sex dream which is very dangerous because he has an overly-active imagination

it sucks that he doesn’t even know the details of the dream because stinky yoongi ziPPed off before he got a chance to squeeze the truth out of him!!!

and he hasn’t mustered up the courage to ask you about it because… how is he even supposed to ask you about it in a casual, non-confrontational way?!

he doesn’t want to embarrass you or anything like that!!

the only reason why he’s only slightly nervous about the whole situation because he doesn’t think he… oozes sex appeal?

so it was more than surprising to find out that you had a naughty dream about him

he’s like 90% leg and 10% dimple for crying out loud

and it’s not like he hasn’t done anything before, because he has, but it’s just different because it’s… you.

you’re his girlfriend and if he flubs this up the first time around then it’d be even more embarrassing than if you were just some random girl!

“말해줘여어 (you have to tell me).” namjoon whips around from where he’s standing by the tree, cradling the box of baubles to his chest, “you have to!”

“싫어 (nah).” yoongi shakes his head, tossing a kernel of popcorn into his mouth only for it to bounce off his cheek and onto the couch

he purses his lips before kicking it under the coffee table

it’s fine

the dust bunnies will get rid of it

“말해줘여어! (you have to tell me!)”

“야 안돼 (no way).”

namjoon clenches his jaw and sets the box down onto the floor promptly before balling his hands into fists and setting them on his hips, puffing his chest out

...

“아 왜여어어어~ (why not??)” he whines, deflating and resisting the urge to stamp his foot and throw an actual tantrum

“아니 비밀이라고 했으니까 그렇지! (it’s not my thing to tell! and i can’t betray y/n like that-)” yoongi shrugs as he keeps his eyes glued on the screen, “by the way, you didn’t even choose a cool nature documentary. what are we even watching?? the guy’s been talking about seaweed for the past ten minutes-”

“what do you mean it’s not your thing to tell??” namjoon scoffs, not even paying attention to the fact that yoongi just insulted his favourite nature documentary about plants in the ocean, “형이 먼저 말 꺼냈잖아! (you were the one who told me that she dreamt about me in the first place-!)” he snaps

“잠깐만 (wait, wait-)” yoongi sits up quickly, a couple kernels of popcorn rolling off his chest and falling onto his lap, “일주일이 지났는데 아무것도 안 했단 말이야?? (are you telling me that you… it’s been a whole week and you haven’t done anything about it??)”

namjoon shrinks down before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, “노 코멘트 (…no comment.)”

“킄 정말로? (really? wow.)” yoongi snorts before shaking his head and leaning back against the couch, “both of you- i mean, both of you deserve each other, seriously-”

namjoon resists the urge to flop down on the couch dramatically, “아니 뭐라고 말하는 거예요 (well, i’m sorry, what am i even supposed to say-)”

“아우 그러지좀마 걍- (you don’t have to say anything, all you have to do is-)”

“yoongi!” namjoon and yoongi look over when you stick your head out around the kitchen door, “cream cheese or vanilla?”

“vanilla, duh.” yoongi raises a brow

you should know by this point that he prefers vanilla frosting over cream cheese!

halfway through the documentary you decided that you were going to make a carrot cake

(and yes, part of the reason why you made that decision was because you were bored of the documentary and wanted to do literally anything else, but you’ll never admit that to namjoon in case it breaks his heart)

namjoon stays quiet until after you disappear into the kitchen again and then he turns to face yoongi with both of his hands clasped together, “말해줘요오! (you have to tell me, c’mon!)”

“말해주면 제발 다른 거 보면 안 될까? (if i tell you, can we watch something else?)”

namjoon scowls

“아 됐어요 도와줄 거라도 있는지 확인 해볼게요- (fine, forget it. i’m gonna go see if y/n needs any help.)” he steps over the boxes of decorations on the ground before turning to look back at yoongi, “부엌에서 필요한 거 있어요? (you need anything?)”

“아니 (nah.)” yoongi responds before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, “oh! actually, see if y/n would be willing to make little carrot cupcakes instead of a whole carrot cake. holding a tiny little cupcake in my hand makes me feel like a giant.”

»»————-　☁️　————-««

“knock, knock…” namjoon knocks on the kitchen door quietly before pushing it open, “everything going okay in here?”

he smiles when you look up from the bowl and beam at him, “hi!”

“hi-” he comes in and shuts the door behind him, “you need any help?”

“help? from you?” you giggle lightly and shake your head, “i’m good.”

ever since he accidentally poured salt into your batter that one time he hasn’t been allowed to help you

:-//

“yoongi changed his mind, by the way.” namjoon gestures back to the direction of the living room, “king min would like cupcakes now.”

your shoulders immediately droop and you gesture to the already greased cake-pans sitting on the side

what a waste!

“hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” namjoon raises both his hands in defence before shrugging, “the man wants what he wants.”

you resist the urge to go out there just to throw the cake pans at yoongi

you’re definitely going to force him to wash everything for you later

“also... you’re just doing this to get out of watching the nature doc, aren’t you?” namjoon wraps both his arms around you from behind and leans down to prop his chin up on your shoulder

you could’ve helped with the decorating, but somehow everything looks better when namjoon does it

he hung a big red bow on your front door and it looks great!

you pause in the middle of shredding carrots before letting out a nervous chuckle, “whaaat? no...”

“it’s about the types of plants in the ocean!” namjoon points out, “is that not cool?? plants are cool.”

you shake your head no almost immediately

not cool

two and a half hours of someone talking about grass that lives in salty water?

not cool at aLL

“how’s the decorating going?” you ask, giggling lightly when namjoon nudges his nose under your jaw before planting a kiss against your neck

“it’s going fine… yoongi isn’t helping, obviously. i handed him one bauble to hang and he hooked it on the collar of his hoodie and told me he’d do it later.”

“mm.”

a brief moment passes where the only sound that can be heard is the carrot you’re shredding against the grater

namjoon purses his lips as he thinks about what yoongi just said to him

...

fuck it

“hey, can i ask you something?” namjoon sighs, smiling in delight when you suddenly turn your head to press a sweet little kiss into his cheek

“mhm!” you turn back, continuing to grate away

“it’s not a big deal or anything, but, uh... when were you planning on telling me about that nice little dream you had two weeks ago?” namjoon asks cockily, biting back a grin when he feels you freeze in his arms

it’s at this moment that the fact that you had a wet dream about him has finally sunk into the depths of his brain and now he’s actually feeling... really good about it

you had a sex dream about him

what’s not to love?

he can almost hear the alarms wailing in your head

and now that he’s got the ball rolling- he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be!

as a matter of fact... this could be fun.

“w-” you clear your throat quietly and the half-shredded carrot drops into the metal bowl with a muted plunk, “i- what dream? i didn’t have a dream about you.”

he knows you’re trying to play it cool but he can see how tightly you’re gripping the grater and he can feel your ears getting hotter against his cheek

“i never said the dream was about me.”

oh, shit

you messed up

“so...?” namjoon moves your hair to the other side before leaning in to plant a warm kiss under your jaw, “this dream that you had… about me. tell me what happened in it.”

you swallow thickly, the gears working overtime in your brain as you try to come up with some kind of an excuse to get yourself out of this situation

you know that now isn’t the most appropriate moment to be thinking about this but you’re 100% going to slaughter yoongi the moment you get a chance to

the secret ingredient to make these cupcakes taste good will not be love

it will be BLEACH

you can’t believe he ratted you out like that!!

how embarrassing!!

“you were-” you cough, “um, you were… you… we…”

oh boy

this is already a train wreck

this is exactly why you didn’t want to tell namjoon about it!

because you know yourself and you knEW you were going to get all flustered and twitchy bringing it up

“well, i was-” you pause, “i was sitting on- sitting on the counter-”

“this one right here?” namjoon’s hand leaves your waist to pat the surface of the counter lightly and you nod gingerly, staring down at his obscenely pretty fingers, “what else?”

“that was it.” you blurt out, “the end!”

namjoon steps back a little and spins you around quickly before pressing you up against the counter, “what else, y/n?”

he traps you in between his arms and you fight the urge to explode into a million bits

oh god

okay

just tell him!

just SAY it

it’s time to get it over with!!

“you were…” your eyes flicker downwards and your nose scrunches slightly

you really don’t want to say it but you don’t think you can back out at this point because you’ve already said too much

“…eating me out.” you force out before averting your gaze and looking off to the side

you really wish there was a better way to say that because the phrase eating me out just sounds so… in your face, you know?

namjoon swallows thickly

so you had a dream about him eating you out?

“y/n, there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about, i promise-” namjoon laughs lightly when he notices your entire face starting to go red

you let out a particularly pathetic whine before leaning your forehead against his chest and gently shoving at his (firm) abdomen

“what’s the problem?” he asks, rubbing comforting circles into your back, “i think about you, you know.”

“you’re just saying that…” you mumble, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “you’re lying...”

“no, i’m serious!” namjoon pulls away to look at you, “i… i think about you. i think about things.”

you blink twice

he thinks about you

he thinks about things

he thinks about you?

he thinks about things??

…what kind of things does he think about?

“y-you do?”

“of course i do.”

“oh.”

a moment of silence ticks by

“i think about a lot of things, y/n.”

“like what?” you look up at him, the corner of namjoon’s pretty mouth curling upwards

“you really wanna know?”

“yes.” you respond a little too quickly before clearing your throat quietly, “…please.”

“hm.” he smiles, “as polite as always-”

you gasp in surprise when namjoon suddenly lifts you up and plops you down on the countertop in one swift movement and your stomach flutters at how effortlessly he just did that

wowie

he places both hands flat on the surface on either side of you before looking up at you with his head tilted slightly

you keep your hands folded in your lap, nervously picking at the worn edges of the sweatshirt you’re wearing (it’s namjoon’s coffee-coloured sweatshirt that you ‘borrowed’ from him)

“mostly about fucking you into the headboard.” namjoon confesses, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth when he notices the way your eyes flicker

you definitely seemed to like that idea

“i think about your fingers pulling at my hair when i have my face in between your legs...” he hums, trailing a finger up from your kneecap to your thigh, “i think about how pretty you’d look bent over the counter for me. i think about the sounds you’d make, how soft your moans and gasps would be… i especially like thinking about you moaning my name. i think about you riding me wearing nothing but that cute little apron of yours - you know, the one with the little honeybees on them?”

“apron’s in the.. in the washing machine.” your breathing’s become a bit more shallow and you haven’t blinked in nearly a minute so it’s safe to say that he has your attention

“you know… i think you know what you do to me when you walk around wearing nothing but one of my sweatshirts and a pair of panties, or when you come out of the shower wrapped in a little towel because you ‘forgot’ your clothes in the bedroom…” namjoon murmurs lowly, “and don’t think i don’t notice the way you look at me whenever you suck frosting off your fingers.”

“frosting?” you whisper, namjoon nodding as his eyes flicker down to your lips briefly

your tongue pokes out to swipe over your bottom lip for a split second

“that’s right.” the metal bowl scrapes against the counter as namjoon drags it over and you jump in surprise at the feeling of the chilled metal bumping up against your bare thigh

“you think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” namjoon chuckles lowly, lifting the spatula up before swiping some frosting off of it with the side of his thumb, “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”

“i don’t…” you trail off, going cross-eyed when namjoon’s hand comes closer only for his pointer finger to tap at your bottom lip

“you do. open.”

you’re just a little thrown off because namjoon’s never... you’ve never seen him like this before

he’s never spoken to you like this before

he’s never looked at you like this before

you’re certainly not complaining, of course

“you taunt me because you like to-” you can’t seem to break away from namjoon’s gaze, the side of his pointer finger hooking underneath your chin as he pushes his thumb into your mouth, “i know you do it on purpose.”

almost immediately, the taste of sweet vanilla frosting washes over your palette

“you want me to think about you, don’t you?” namjoon swallows a groan when you start sucking, your cheeks hollowing slightly as your tongue swirls around his thumb to make sure no frosting gets left behind, “you like the thought of that? like leaving me high and dry because it forces me to use my own imagination?”

(admittedly, yes. a little part of you likes the thought of you completely consuming every corner of namjoon’s mind... just a little part, though.)

you nod slowly in response with glazed over eyes and namjoon clenches his jaw

fuck

he flattens his thumb down on your tongue to get you to open your mouth a little more for him and hums contently when you do so obediently

a thin line of spit stretches from your tongue to namjoon’s slick thumb as he pulls his hand away and you don’t even get a chance to register whatever that moment was before he’s leaning forward to slant his mouth over yours

namjoon kisses you purposefully, pulling you closer to him as you fist at his shirt tightly

he savours the faint sweetness of the frosting left behind on your tongue and can’t help but smile when he hears you whimper

“can i tell you something?” namjoon pulls away only to start sponging kisses to your neck and you tilt your head to the side for him

“uh-huh, y-yeah-” you nod quickly, slinging an arm around his neck to keep him close while the other hand grips at his shoulder

your eyes roll to the back of your head for a split second and you can’t help but quietly mouth an ‘oh my god’ to yourself because you never knew it could feel this good to have your neck kissed

“i think it’s hot as fuck that you had a wet dream about me,” namjoon groans lowly and you immediately feel a zing! of electricity travel straight down south from the sound of him speaking to you in such a deep, gravelly voice, “and you definitely don’t have to be shy about asking me to touch you… because i’m very willing to do so.”

“i want you to- w-want you to touch me-” you stutter, feeling your cheeks warm from hearing those words come out of your mouth, “want it so bad-”

your eyes pop open when namjoon suddenly pulls away and you frown, instantly missing the feeling of him being pressed up so tightly against you

“lift your hips-” namjoon pushes the bowl of frosting to the side before tapping two fingers on your upper thigh, “-up off the counter.”

your brows knit together in confusion

why would you-

your eyes widen in realisation when it dawns on you what exactly is happening here

“w-what-” you glance at the (for the most part, closed) kitchen door frantically before looking down at joon, “but yoongi’s in the-” you turn back and jump in surprise when you see that namjoon’s face is right in front of yours

you’re practically nose to nose with him

“i know.” namjoon leans in to give you a quick peck before pulling away with a particularly smug grin, “so you’re just going to have to stay quiet for me then, aren’t you?”

you WHAT

“why don’t we get these off, hm?” namjoon hooks a finger into the waistband of your shorts and gives it a gentle tug

you look at the door once again and then back at namjoon, who offers you an innocent little smile as if he didn’t just suggest going down on you on the kitchen counter with your friend in the room next door

okay

think about this!

think about this with your logical brain and not your bonk horny brain

would you rather see your very hot boyfriend’s face in between your legs or would you rather send him away so you can continue making a cake for your very picky friend?

…

you plant both palms on the counter before raising your hips a little, namjoon grinning in victory before yanking your shorts down in one go

if you would’ve known this was going to happen today you definitely would’ve worn a sexier pair of panties

white cotton is boring!!!

also you know this is the wrong time to be thinking this but you’re wondering if it would be possible to rope yoongi into a shopping spree at victoria’s secret next week because you’re going to need better looking panties if namjoon’s going to keep springing these spontaneous sessions on you

“cute.” namjoon hums, poking at the little blue bow that sits at the centre of the waistband

your breathing stills as he slowly lowers himself to his knees in front of you and you feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest at the sight alone

“soaked right through…” namjoon observes quietly, turning his head to press a kiss to the pillowy flesh of your inner thigh, “i’ve barely touched you, baby.”

you jolt in surprise when he runs his thumb slowly up your slit through the thinned fabric of your panties, though he stops right as he’s about to reach your clit

so close yet so, so painfully far

you nudge him with your foot, “you’re teasing.” you swallow thickly, namjoon offering you a boyish grin as he tilts his head, pushing his bottom lip out in a mocking pout

“aw… am i?” he coos, and you shiver when he leans in to press a kiss over your clothed clit, “i’m sorry, darling… that must be so hard for you…”

“and you’re being mean.” you murmur, namjoon chuckling to himself as he pulls your panties down your legs

“am not.”

“are too.”

“am not.” namjoon perks a brow, pushing your thighs apart gently, “take it back.”

“no wa-!” your back immediately straightens as if a jolt of electricity just shot straight up your spine at the first feeling of namjoon licking one long stripe up your centre, and you fight back the urge to snap your legs shut

that’s.,., new!

very new

very new feeling

you’re certainly not against it and it’s not a bad feeling

it’s just…

new

“good?” your breath wavers when namjoon hums against you, your eyelids fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue slowly pressing in deep, “hm?”

namjoon slips his tongue in between your folds before sliding it flat and straight up to your swollen clit, grinning to himself when you finally give in to pleasure and lie back on the counter

you whimper, rolling your hips down towards his mouth as he drags his tongue over your slit in repetitive strokes before flicking his tongue over the top of your clit

it’s too much and not enough at the same time, your legs instinctively starting to squeeze shut around him

“nuh-uh, baby…” you find that you can barely move, namjoon’s fingers digging into your thigh as a warning as he keeps your legs open, “keep them spread for me.”

namjoon watches your reaction intensely, finding pleasure in the way that your chest rises and falls quickly and in the way you twitch every now and again

from here, he can see the way your brows furrow and the way you bite and tug at your bottom lip in a poor effort to keep yourself quiet

“you can use your words like a good girl, can’t you?” namjoon teases, two fingers rolling tight little circles into your clit as he watches you, barely blinking, “tell me how good it feels…”

“good- ungh, feels good-” you whimper, hips bucking up against his fingers desperately

namjoon looks down to see you practically dripping onto the counter

jesus

he would’ve done this a lot sooner had he known you’d be acting like this from his touch

“fuck me,” namjoon groans suddenly, and all of a sudden it seems like everything’s moving ten times faster than before, “you look so fucking hot right now-”, he wraps his strong arms underneath both your thighs before yanking you closer to him, practically burying his entire face in between your legs

your right leg gets hitched up over his shoulder and you quickly sit back up, digging your fingers into the soft strands of namjoon’s hair as his tongue laves back and forth against your folds

your back arches and you tilt your head up towards the ceiling, namjoon instinctively pushing his clothed crotch against the bottom part of the counter for some kind of relief

he’s so painfully hard from just hearing you hold back moans and watching you squirm and twitch

you remind yourself to loosen your grip on namjoon’s hair because you’re worried that you might accidentally rip some strands out and leave him with a bald patch, but namjoon obviously doesn’t seem to mind as he doubles his efforts and starts to lick and and suck with tremendous fervour

“fuck, you taste good-” he curses, his right hand sliding underneath your sweatshirt to cup your bare breast before he pinches and rolls your nipple in between his fingers

he drags his tongue down to circle around your tight hole and you jerk immediately, “oh my god-” you pant, overwhelmed by all the different feelings your body is experiencing at this moment, “that feels so-”

your bum is teetering on the edge of the counter at this point because namjoon’s basically pulled you off of it and you reach down to grip at the edges so you don’t fall off

“gonna cum?” namjoon murmurs, eyes locking on your face almost immediately as he feels you starting to squirm underneath him

he really wants to watch you cum

“j-joonie, god, don’t stop-” the arm wrapped around your waist tightens around you and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues his torturous onslaught of pleasure, “i-i- nngh- namjoon-!”

“i’ve got you, baby… you can cum…” namjoon feels himself twitch in his sweats upon hearing you moan his name like that

the thought of gagging you with your own panties to mute your moans briefly flits through his mind but... he wants to hear you moaning his name over and over and over again

he wants to make you scream for him

when it happens, you practically bite your bottom lip off trying not to cry out in ecstasy

namjoon has to hold your trembling thighs open to keep them from snapping his head right off

your hips buck lazily as you quiver around namjoon’s hot tongue, your body glistening in a sheen layer of sweat as you bask in the slow, rolling waves of ecstasy

you lie back down against the counter, chest heaving beneath your sweater as you stare dazedly up at the ceiling

oh, wow

you watch as the ceiling fan whirrs around and around and around

you feel like you’re not physically here right now

like your soul left your body and you’re just floating in the air like a bunch of particles

“-!” you twitch when namjoon carefully wipes you off with your panties before setting them onto the counter next to you

you slowly prop yourself up onto your elbows so you can look at him, feeling your cheeks flush when you see that he’s looking right at you

you’re not sure why you’ve gone all shy again as if his tongue wasn’t licking you out ten seconds ago

“hi, pretty girl...” he smiles, his dimple popping up in his right cheek, “welcome back.” he jokes, rising to his feet while keeping your right leg propped up onto his shoulder

he turns to give your ankle a kiss before gently bringing your leg down and helping you sit up

“that was really something...” you wrap your arms loosely around his neck as he grasps your hips before leaning down to give you a sweet little kiss

“oh yeah? did i live up to dreamjoon?” namjoon teases, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before pinching the apple of your cheek

“you did a much better job than dreamjoon.” you hum, and it’s only then that you’re aware of the very prominent bulge pressing into your centre, “but i... i wanna make you feel good, too…” you murmur, namjoon biting back a groan when you nudge your bare centre against him, a darkened splotch now staining the front of his sweatpants “and…” you lean upwards to whisper something into namjoon’s ear

...

holy shit

yes please

“yeah, shit, we can definitely do that-” namjoon hates to admit to how horny he is but he can’t help it when you go around saying stuff like that to him, “we-” he pauses suddenly, eyes going wide in panic, “oh, shit!”

“wh- what??” you look around the kitchen frantically before grabbing the closest thing to you as a form of defence (a silicone whisk)

“friggin’ yoongi-!” namjoon hisses in pain as he adjusts himself in his sweatpants, “i forgot about yoongi-”

okay

a little weird of him to be thinking about yoongi while he’s touching his-

“oh my god, yoongi!” you hiss quietly, hopping off the counter with wobbly legs

namjoon hands you your shorts and you quickly wiggle into them before pulling your sweatshirt down

you completely forgot that yoongi was in the room right next to you guys and that last moan of yours wasn’t exactly quiet

and you know that yoongi might not have a lot of knowledge when it comes to baking, but you’re sure that he knows enough to know that practically screaming namjoon’s name out loud isn’t a key step in achieving a fluffy cake batter

“we weren’t doing anything!”

the two of you stumble out into the living room and you file through your brain to come up with some kind of a logical excuse as to why you’re hot and sweaty and why namjoon’s hiding his lower half behind a kitchen towel and how in the world those two facts are related to his precious carrot cake cupcakes

you pause when you notice that yoongi’s nowhere to be found

the documentary’s still playing on the TV, the boxes of tinsel and baubles have been completely abandoned, and there’s nothing but a blue sticky note sitting on the couch

taking a nap in my car. text me when you guys are done being horny. also - you’re welcome.

christmas with cee 2020 masterlist

🎁what would you like from ceenta this year? 🎁

966 notes · View notes

watevermelon · 4 years

Text

Jealous | Eita Semi x Reader

✧ Summary: You thought you were content with your relationship so far - Semi was your best friend and these past few years were some of the most memorable. But all of that quickly changes with some outside forces. ➳ Tags: Angst with a happy ending; some humor

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—xXxXxXxXxXx—

Four years ago, it would have been a strange sight to see you, an up-and-rising wing-spiker, sitting on the sideline of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team. Being the female team’s manager was nice, but just as ambiguous as the adjective. You sorely ached to be back as an active member on the court and you seemed to radiate that very thought throughout the schoolyear.

At the end of your first-year you were switched from official wing-spiker to sub-pinch server. That was a huge demotion in your eyes, but a position you would gladly accept now. You knees were deteriorating from overuse and it was only facilitated at the Spring Tournament during your first-year. A bad-land from a spike and you tore your ACL. From that injury, there was no going back. That took you off the regular team for the rest of the year, since your doctor recommended six-months of healing.

Torn ACL’s do not heal and you did not want to undergo surgery, since it would only prolong your time away from the court. That decision was terrible in itself, but you reasoned that your volleyball career would end after high-school. So the long-term implications did not affect your future in sports since you did not envision one.

But your career ended sooner than you thought.

You did not seek the advice of the athletic trainer or even your coach and attempted to do the same work-outs as the rest of the team. And for a good amount of time, they bought your act. It seemed you were a miraculous healer, despite the urgings of both your parents and physicians. Dates set aside for physical therapy were skipped and you opted to make yourself useful to the team.

But you were doing just the opposite.

The women of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team had their eyes set on nationals and it seemed that you were on the right track. The team earned their spot in the finals of the Interhigh Tournament, garnering attention against Niiyama High. You were set to serve, aiming directly for the serious face of Amanai Kanoka. Mid-stride, something did not feel right and you landed, not on your feet, but on your front-side.

You looked up from your prone form on the ground to see the horrified faces of your teammates and opponents. The usually loud section of Shiratorizawa’s student body was stunned silent and everyone’s eyes were fixated on your figure. First aid was able to hoist your motionless body onto a stretcher and time seemed to momentarily stop. You could still distinctly recall the perturbed faces of your friends and family. In that very instant, you felt your heart crack and silently whispered goodbye to your beloved sport.

Your torn ACL developed into a long-lasting chronic deficiency and you were slowly losing control in knee movement.

Pity.

That was the only word to describe the certain expression other people gave you after the fact. Volleyball held a large amount of prominence on campus and the fact that nearly everyone saw your fall – it was humiliating. You were taken completely off the team and instead ushered into surgery and rehabilitation for your knee.

Many of your teammates attempted to show compassion and understanding for your situation, but they would never truly understand. You had accepted, deep in your heart, that even if you had undergone surgery early your knee would continually depreciate. It was only a matter of time.

The coach could understand your reasoning, but cursed your insolence. It hurt her that you desperately wanted to help the team, to the point of sacrificing your future. If she had known, she would have taken you off the starting-line in an instant. But there was no second chance, no benefit in asking what if’s.

The previous manager of the women’s team was leaving with graduation and you inherited her spot. On more than one occasion, you wondered if staying on as manager would really help you emotionally. It was your own personal hell, watching your previous teammates engage in volleyball and never getting the chance to join.

Graduation liberated many of your friends and majority of the people who observed your deterioration first-hand were gone. New volleyball teams were forming and you missed most of their names. Without the use of it on the court, it was harder to connect and really converse with the fresh first-years. You knew the names of the promising few – Goshiki Tsutomu was a hard one to miss. There were also two exemplary female wing-spikers, but Shiratorizawa’s team ran both deep and wide.

With all this distance, you would often miss much of the drama from those outside your year. Many of the other volleyball players made an effort not to bar you and updated you daily on news. Tendou was the number one instigator and you would often hear a warped version of the gossip from him first.

None of the male players were in the same class, ironically. There was one in each class and you shared yours with Eita Semi for the past three years. You were the closest to the mom of the group and he would usually clarify new gossip to you.

The groupchat shared amongst both the men’s and women’s volleyball team usually went ignored in your pocket. Once in a while, you would contribute a dank meme or comment. But for now, you tended to silently witness the drama unfold. Amongst the newly minted third-years was a groupchat just for you guys, both the girls and boys teams, which was the one you and Tendou seemed to haunt.

As such, you were texting away in the middle of class. You sat with Semi, who was diligently writing notes and following along with the teacher. Neither had yet to see you, but no matter who it was, they would pluck the phone right out of your hands.

GC: We’re the captains now. <(￣︶￣)>

12:43 From:s u f f e r i n g (。□°） I’m just saying, we can fight him.

12:43 From: Ushiwaka-sama I would prefer to leave the setter intact

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Are we ignoring the problem of Goshiki????

12:43 From: Captain-Sama! He’s a wing-spiker not a middle-blocker. You don’t have to worry about your spot

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） ExCuSe youuuuuuuuuuu

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ) I wouldn’t be afraid even if he was

It was severely clear to all volleyball members that your spot as a regular was never safe (unless of course your name started with a U and ended with -shiwaka.)

The coaches of either team were relentless in their words and would drop a team member if they showed enough weakness. And you would not be surprised even in the slightest if the essential vice-captain of the men’s team was benched for the newfound first-year. The anomaly of Goshiki Tsutomu could be found in the fact that he seemed to be the complete foil of his older teammates. Despite this, he showed the most promise and you almost wanted to bet money that he would be a regular by the Spring High Tournament.

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama Your numerable amount of question marks show your lie.

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Why don’t you shut the fuck up

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama But I didn’t say anything

12:45 From: Captain-Sama! LMAO but seriously Soekawa has nothing to worry about

12:45 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□°） Even if he does I think we can take the coconut-head.

12:45 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） O mi god good one (f/n) I’m about to set his nickname as that

12:46 From: Okaasan/Eita Why don’t you take your own advice and stfu salami

12:46 From: Captain-Sama S C R E A M I N G

Okaasan/Eita has changed “Guess Monster (▼へ▼メ)” ‘s nickname to, “the most tender Salami”.

12:46 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) I can’t breathe

12:47 From: Ushiwaka-sama Lol

True to your word, you were laughing with almost no control while Semi was trying not to have his smile break his stern façade. You covered your mouth to stifle the giggles and the fact that the literal volleyball idiot wrote “Lol” you had no doubt he was laughing as well a few classrooms over.

Those in your immediate vicinity subtly turned to look at you and you had to pretend to bend-down to pick up a pencil to hide your laughter. You thanked Semi for the umpteenth time for grabbing these seats in the back that were far from the teacher’s reproach.

Once you were settled, Semi commented, “The aim of my remark was to calm you all down.”

It was hard to focus in class usually, but after a morning like that you were done. English was your forte and you had no problems with the subject, even in an advanced class focused on the western world’s literature. The Great Gatsby was your shit.

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I have detention now Eita. I hope youre happy

13:34 From: Okaasan/Eita What did I do????

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I literally started screaming at the name

13:34 the most tender Salami At least someone else is suffering too

13:34 the most tender Salami My ass is getting blasted on the shared gc help

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Hey remember that time you locked me in the men’s locker room

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Karma beyotch

13:35 From: the most tender Salami LMAo thanks for that reminder ugh that was the funniest day I almost feel better

You frowned at your phone and Semi noticed your reaction, “That’s your fault. You brought it up.”

The two of you were done with class for the rest of the day and were casually lounging around his dorm room. His roommate, Reon Ōhira, was in class 4 and had a different schedule from the two of you.

You were laid-out across his bed, backpack carelessly thrown on the floor against his desk. Semi was previously occupied with whatever he does on his laptop, but now he was catching-up with the groupchat. This was incredibly normal and it was almost second-nature for you to lounge in his room. Your roommate, the captain of the women’s team, often noted this with certain intentions.

It was no secret that you and Semi were something.

You flirted nonchalantly and he had an overall friendly personality — it seemed entirely natural. Your relationship had blurred lines and no clear mutual understanding. The two of you could hold hands and he could get away with the occasional kiss on your cheek. And if anyone asked if you were in a relationship, you would say no. Semi would do the same.

There was one occasion during your second-year that pushed Semi’s buttons to the point where he made your relationship known. You could count the amount of female third-years on your hand and still have fingers to spare. This, in Tendou’s eyes, left barely any possible suitors that he would seriously be interested in. And of all people, the eyes of the guess monster settled on you.

Tendou was a somewhat of a Kuudere, in your words. He was not cold, but incredibly blunt and cared on the inside. He had the type of attitude that would not seem to care if their crush noticed them. Instead, he took it a step further, to compliment said crush to other people and claim not to like them. And because he was so damn loud and incredibly obvious, the other male volleyball players seemed to notice and their gazes would casually linger on you.

You would dismiss their sudden interest as only aesthetic-deep and not take any other crushes seriously, especially Tendou. His crush bounced from girl to girl and this was a well-known fact, simply because he could admire a good looking person and not get emotionally attached. However, this was easier when the girl was in his class and not as immediate as on the volleyball team.

Tendou would highlight the specific beauty of your smile or hair casually and the other third-years would calmly agree. Semi could see it all. He was in a private groupchat with those boys and you were the topic of their conversation more than once. He would see the friendly pat on the head from Reon as he complimented your cross-spike. Or how you would converse with Ushijima and his eyes would loiter even after you walked away. Or how you would smile brightly at Yunohama’s jokes.

Tendou and Ushijima’s shared dorm was secretly party central, the later surprisingly okay with socializing on a daily basis. But you normally hung-out with Semi, in his room. And recently you had been getting more and more invitations to their room. He was hella annoyed and would often drag you right after class to chill with him instead.

This did not change the fact that Tendou was aggressive and this led to the day of Semi’s snapping. Tendou was waiting outside of your classroom and once he spotted you, he stepped right between you and Semi to sling a lazy arm across your shoulders.

“Finally we are graced with Friday. No homework to worry about for tomorrow and even better, it’s a rest day for volleyball!” Tendou was narrating the day as the three of you walked, Semi pushed all the way to the side. “Shall we let go of our inhibitions to celebrate this rare occasion?”

You lightly attempted to push off his hold on you, but he did not budge. “Sorry Tendou, not exactly in the mood to go off campus tonight.”

“That’s perfectly alright with me,” He deflected the rejection, “Waka is leaving tomorrow morning so we can chill in the dorm.” Certain ideas were undoubtedly forming in the minds of two growing teenage boys and Semi did not hide his disapproval. Instead, he sighed loudly and had the urge to grab you right out of Tendou’s grasp.

“What do you plan on doing with just me tonight, Tendou?” You teased.

He only laughed and ignored your question, “So how about it?"

“I prefer to get my homework done before the weekend, so that’s what I’ll be preoccupied with tonight.” You answered and Semi smirked at your response.

He bristled at your retort and kept pushing, “Well. I know you like that cheesecake place downtown—”

“Can’t you take a hint, Tendou?” Semi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, but once I lay my eyes on a beautiful girl there’s no way I’ll let her go.” Tendou affirmed and tightened his hold on your shoulders.

You blushed at his confidence, “Ha. Well, determination is a dangerous thing.” Semi noted your flushed appearance and the fact that you had not pulled away from his hold.

No way, not on his watch.

Your flustered looks and affectionate embraces were meant for him and him alone.

Was Tendou’s unwavering resolve really getting to you? The red-head would constantly shower you with compliments and it was only a matter of time that it would infiltrate your brain. Meanwhile, he would offer you vague responses and a sparse amount of sentiments.

With his mind made-up, Semi grabbed you right out of Tendou’s filthy arms and into his own. “Sorry. But she’ll be busy with me.” You were nestled underneath his neck and his arm was wrapped lightly around your waist.

The message he was sending was clear and if it was not, Semi sure as hell would be ready to provide more.

Instead of being heart-broken or defensive, Tendou immediately turned the situation around, “Busy doing what?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Staying the hell away from you.” Semi sassily replied and attempted to walk away with you in his grasp.

Tendou took the message in stride and went further to ship the two of you together for the rest of the schoolyear. The others must have received the message and they laid off from their previous flirting. Well, most of them. The only person unaffected by Semi’s wrath was the great volleyball idiot himself. But it was generally understood that he never really knew the implications of his actions.

Since then, there was no real progression in your public and private relationship with Semi. You hit every milestone with stride: prolonged hugs, kisses on the cheek, and even a sleepover when your roommate was away with her boyfriend. You were happy with how things were now and you feared if you talked about it, it would end. With no real reason to address the subject, the two of you continued with your relationship. He was there when you were sad and you surely did the same for him.

The second-year of high-school was your turning point. Your first-year friendship could be described as average, simply two members of the same game. Classmates and admirers of volleyball, you were cordial for ordinary reasons. After your injury, it was hard to personally connect with anyone.

But Semi could do what the others could not. Your second-year came with the introduction of Kenjirō Shirabu. He was a salty little douche and before the Spring High Tournament he was the official setter for the men’s volleyball team. The teammates that Semi had fostered and grown with since middle school were suddenly dragged away from him. And there was nothing he could do. His best was suddenly not good enough and he fell short to a first-year.

You connected on a level that the others could not understand. Being cut from a team was like being abandoned, but it was no one’s fault but your own. And that fact hurt more than anything. Try as you might, there was nothing either of you could really do to regain your prominence.

You found comfort in one another and it was highly noted by the other team members.

“What’s with the face?” Semi asked, noting your saddened facial expressions.

You paused and then sat-up, “We’re graduating this year.”

“Just because we’re leaving this school, doesn’t mean we’ll stop being friends.” Semi comforted. Friends… That word would continue to haunt you. You were friends, incredibly close with few secrets between the two of you. Your relationship was once in a lifetime and soon there would be more than emotional barriers separating you two.

It was not until the autumn formal that you recognized first-hand the complications of desire.

Someone asked Semi to the formal. And it had not been you. But he still said yes.

You heard this secondhand from Reon, a week after the girl had initially asked. Did he hesitate? Did he even think of you? Did he… have feelings for the girl?

She was someone unrecognizable from Ushijima’s class and you had spotted her after having lunch with just the ace. Social Media was a big thing and of course Shiratorizawa Academy had a team-spirit page that highlighted all sorts of shit. And of course, there were the posts about who was going with who to the formal. ((promposals cough))

You were unsure if you had ever seen her before. But after noticing her, you seemed to see her everywhere. She was beautiful in every way you were not – incredibly feminine and keeping up with her appearance. Flowing blonde hair that went past her elbows and she seemed to always sport a dress. Semi was not distant in any way and it seemed like he was never going to bring it up with you unless you took the initiative.

You asked once or twice about the girl and he waved off that she was very pretty and very determined. She seemed to exceedingly fancy him and would not take no for an answer. And he had no real reason to say no. No real reason. Your heart ached at his simple words. If you were no “real reason,” then you sure were not going to continue this way.

There was a month until the formal and that meant an entire month with having this loom over your head. Semi never indicated he wanted more than friendship and it seemed that was not enough for him. So you pulled away. This was hard since you sat together, but it was definitely different than usual.

You would brush off his invitations to hang-out, which was increasingly hard since you literally spent every waking day together. It hurt you, but it was a good wake-up call. If he did not think more of you, then it was about time you lessened this heavy dependence you had on him. It was an eventual problem that he would find a significant other, but now it was finally before you. You were no masochist and distanced yourself from the constant sorrow. On one occasion, you replied, “Why don’t you hang-out with your date instead?” It was petty and low, but true. You were being replaced. Why would he hang-out with you if he’s got another female on his line?

You addressed this with Reon, but he defended Semi saying that the two were only friends. Semi agreed on a whim, with no real intention of dating the girl or progressing as far as he had with you. But you denied this and stopped talking about it with the two altogether.

You were gleaning out the window, ignoring your lunch and sitting with the guess monster and his ace. “Stop frowning, (F/N)-chan. If it bothers you that much just talk to him.”

“Why should I even bother? He already made up his mind.” You pushed your already minute lunch away.

“Wow, giving up already?” Tendou mocked.

“It’s been three years. If he wanted to do something he would have.”

“You’re wrong, (F/N)-chan.” Salami countered, “Semi has already done something. He told me off, that’s for sure.”

“That was so long ago.”

“What have you done?” Ushijima interjected.

“I’ve never accepted any other man’s affection - not dates, chocolates, late-night talks.” You outwardly groaned and nearly slammed your head on the desk, “I’m about to graduate high-school and I’ve never been kissed.”

Even Tendou laughed at this fact, “Wow, (F/N)! I’d be willing to volunteer.”

You lifted your head to glare at him, “That is unnecessary.” Ushijima stated. “You have proven a great loyalty, it seems.”

“Great.” You mocked, voice dripping with sarcasm, “And this worked out so well for me.”

“It is a rare quality, one that I surely admire you for having.” You sat-up completely, back straight from surprise and eyes glued to the auburn-haired ace that continued eating like his words meant nothing. Even Tendou paused from his causal demeanor to narrow his eyes at Ushijima.

A grin reappeared on his face, one that surely spelt trouble, and he proposed, “Why don’t you two go to the formal together?”

You both paused and shared momentary eye-contact. His eyes appeared mostly impassive, but you had spent enough time with him to notice his questioning gaze. His left eyebrow was slightly upturned and you tilted your head in question.

“I cannot see an immediate reason not to.”

“Me neither."

“Then it’s settled!” Tendou got up to stand by the middle of the table, flippantly placing his hands on both of your shoulders, “Let’s send a post to the Shiratorizawa page so it’s official. Ah so cute, Waka and (F/N) at the dance together!”

Ushijima commented that was extremely superfluous, why should anyone care/know? You reasoned the same way, but Tendou claimed that it was not official until it was on the social media page. You both shrugged and prepared to pose for a picture over lunch.

“No, no. This looks totally lame.” He ended up dragging the both of you outside, in the middle of the quad during common hour. Tons of students were walking by and watched as Tendou modeled the two of you.

He settled on putting Ushijima’s hand on your waist and angled your front facing the ace. Your head was turned back towards the camera and you had a hand on his chest. This position was entirely intimate and even the dense Ushijima commented this, but Tendou waved it off. You wondered what crazy things Tendou could get his roommate to do.

Tendou was having a blast, taking multiple pictures from different angles on his phone. You wondered: how good could it possibly look? You were sporting your Shiratorizawa uniform and Ushijima was in his usual track-suit. You could hear the whispering and it seemed that posting the picture would be redundant, almost everyone saw the two of you posing like this!

The three of you returned back to your lunch table and upon sitting down, you received a brand new notification.

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Looks like the two most elusive volleyball bachelor/ette’s have snagged each other! Be sure to check-out this cute couple at the fall formal! Tagged: Ushijima Wakatoshi and (F/N)(L/N)

Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg, 3.jpg, 4.jpg

“Was it really necessary to send in all those pictures, Tendou?” You asked.

“They tell us to send multiple and they’ll pick the best one! Whoever the account owner is, they are the ones who decided on showing all of those!”

“But four?”

“I sent in ten. And four is the max they can post, so they must really like you guys.” Tendou teased. Almost instantly, you were getting more and more notifications.

People you had never met before were liking the post and it was embarrassing at how much attention this was garnering! You weren’t even dating! Your phone was constantly vibrating from Instabook and you muted the app entirely – you’d return to it later at the end of the day. Sadly, the volleyball team was quick to react too.

GC: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! um wtf is this Attached: THEpost.jpg, receipts.jpg, wtf.jpg

14:57 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) Not the otp but I still ship it

14:57 From: Coconut-head Senpai’s gf is so cute (๑꒪▿꒪)*

14:57 From: the most tender Salami You can thank me

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! y tf would I do that

14:57 From: the most tender Salami I got the ship sailing

14:57 From: the most tender Salami And got usiwaka to ask (f/n)-chan

14:58 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ And u stil cant get urself a date??

14:58 From: the most tender Salami I’m going to ignore that and show off this CUTE COUPLE Attached: lunchdate.jpg, imthechaperone.jpg

Tendou was showcasing photos he literally took then and there, of you and Ushijima conversing over lunch. It could be viewed entirely as innocent, but after the previous posts it seemed to imply something. Tendou noticed that Semi had seen the chat already, but had yet to respond.

14:58 From: Captain-sama! Are they dating???????????????

14:59 From: the most tender Salami Nah, but theyre too busy to respond to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

14:59 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ OH SHIT

14:59 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) WE’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH ( ಠ - ಠ )

15:00 From: Captain-Sama! I WANT PICS

Reon and Semi were discussing the subject in the comfort of their private dorm. It was clear to the tan boy that you were bothered by Semi agreeing to go to the formal and not even telling you! It was only now that Semi was understanding this and he looked to his roommate for guidance.

“I already told that girl I’ll go with her…” Semi was attempting to sort his thoughts, “But I don’t want to hurt (F/N).”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Reon interjected, “You already did that.”

Semi burrowed his head into his hands, “Does (F/N) think I’m replacing her? She means so much to me, that’s absurd.”

“You didn’t exactly tell her that you were going to formal with someone else.” Reon explained, “How would you feel if your closest friend was going to an intimate dance with a date that you never met before?” Semi massaged his temples further, feeling the oncoming migraine that usually came associated with a certain second-year setter.

His thoughts were unclear and the constant vibrating of both their phones were not helping his mental state, “What is happening?”

Reon browsed through his phone first and frowned, “Well. It seems a certain someone’s affection never fully disappeared from last year.”

Semi narrowed his eyes and picked up his phone to see your face splayed across the screen. A smile graced your face and it was clear who was the cause behind it. Ushijima’s smile was rare and came at random moments, but it was encased in memory through the photograph. He almost screamed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Semi threw his phone on the bed before collapsing face first into it.

“On the chat, it seems Tendou was the one who pushed them together.” Semi punched his pillow at the mention of the brash Salami. “And they’re not dating, just going to the dance together.”

Semi let out a string of incomprehensible words into his comforter. “This is Ushiwaka. He’s not like Tendou, with the endless list of crushes. He’s genuine all the time and complimented (F/N) without hesitation. As in, I’m fucked.”

Reon was inwardly rolling his eyes, it was only when Semi was entirely comfortable with the other person or very enraged that he let loose his short-tempered side. And it seemed Semi was both, right at this moment.

You broke off from Tendou and Ushijima to retreat back to your dorm room. Ushijima agreed to have dinner with you later, in hopes of coordinating your outfit for the formal. It seemed the post of the two of you was the most popular on the entire page and you would have to dress to impress the audience.

Upon entering, you were ambushed with questions from both your roommate, Reon, and strangely Shirabu.

“(F/N), what the fuck.”

“You better not hinder his abilities as ace!”

“Did you just come from lunch with him?”

You blinked at the assault and then sat-down. “One, we’re not dating. So I will not be a distraction for him, I assure you. This is mostly Tendou’s doing anyway.”

Shirabu nodded at the explanation and then walked towards the door, stopping to put a hand on your shoulder first, “Good enough. Have a good time then.” And with that he walked out of the room. Shirabu was a special type of kid, everyone knew. At least he had the best intentions at heart?

“Seriously?” Your roommate and captain of the female volleyball team asked, showing off her impeccable vernacular.

“Come on.” You threw your bag to the side of your bed.

“How did this even start?” She sat down on her own bed as Reon rested on your desk chair.

“I was talking about y’know, what’s been bothering me recently. And Tendou suggested that there was no real reason to stop Ushijima and me from going to the formal together.”

“And what? Ushijima just asked on the spot after that?” She asked.

“Yeah, pretty much. And then Tendou made a big spectacle of it by making us pose for a picture.”

“A top three ace in the entire country and 190 centimeter of pure man, and you are the one to have tamed him. Holy shit, good job.” She commended.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head and Reon could not stop his sudden coughing fit. “We are not dating.”

“Just the pure fact that Ushijima had no reason to not ask you, wow.” She commented. “If it was any other girl he would have scroll of reasons that would hit the floor with a speech to go along with it.”

“There’s no way.” You countered.

“Do you honestly think there are no implications?” Reon asked.

“Yeah, if anything he’s doing it as a favor.” You answered offhandedly, realizing your mistake instantly. It was natural to speak candidly to the two. However, it was clear that Reon would die defending Semi and thus you stopped speaking to him previously about the situation.

“A favor?” He asked, just as you had thought.

You hesitated. It was not in you to lie and it was only a matter of time before Tendou gave further details to the rest about the situation. “We were talking about Eita-kun before he asked me.”

“What about Eita?”

“Just how really messed up this situation is.” You decided on being vague.

Reon did not take the hint and continued to push the subject, “Why is it messed up?”

“You know why,” You gave him that look, like really bro, “I guess that’s what I get for assuming.

“What did you assume?” Your roommate asked, this time.

“I stayed loyal to him and I never gave into anyone. Never accepted chocolates or dates or anything. And I just assumed he would do the same?” Reon sat back in the chair, obviously mauling over your words.

“Well that is mostly true, with the exception of one person.” Both you and your roommate shot him questioning looks, unsure where he heard that from. “Isn’t it true you did extra practice with Wakatoshi for a whole month?”

“I don’t think volleyball counts as accepting affection.” Your roommate countered.

“Do you see who we are talking about?” Reon explained, “Our beloved ace lives and breathes volleyball. And he shared a good amount of that time alone with you. If you wanted to practice so badly, why not with Eita? He was the official setter.”

“Because Ushijima asked me personally.”

“And you accepted. You voluntarily spent an extended amount of time with him, engaging in the sport he loves and you didn’t think anything of it?”

“Of course not! I would have accepted practice from anyone else on the team.”

“I think that’s where you do not understand.” Reon paused, attempting to fully devlop his next few words before conveying them to the two of you. “You’re treating this extremely casually. But these are all boys who had no problems with showering you with compliments last year. Take a step back and really think about the situation.”

Your roommate interjected, “Okay, hold on. So Tendou and the boys tried to carelessly compliment (F/N) and after that she accepted one of those boy’s request to spend time with him.”

“We are not talking about some irresponsible boy. This is Wakatoshi, the most serious and straight-forward idiot to exist.”

You were sat on the bed, hands currently encasing your head in obvious stress and over-thinking. “But that’s not how I saw it! Ohmyfuckinggod.”

“I suggest you amend the situation, (F/N)-chan.” Reon advised, “I left him alone in the dorm, please talk to him.”

But you were already out the door. You had a growing list of reasons why you were an idiot and this misunderstanding definitely topped the list. You had to tell Eita that Ushijima would never hold a place in your heart like he did. It was impossible for Ushijima to have feelings for you, that was definite. Ever since your unofficial parting from Eita, you had spending more time with the ace. However, you would often be expressing your sadness about Semi and he knew entirely about your feelings. Wakatoshi was a bro.

And it was important that Semi knew that.

You tapped on his door, rapid and loud enough that you were sure other people in the hall heard it. There was a light shuffling inside and it seemed like there were multiple voices.

Semi opened a slight crack of the door with narrowed eyes, but when they landed on you they widened with obvious shock. “(F/N), what are you doing here?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was talking with Reon and I think I need to say something before I regret it. Can I come inside?” Semi scratched the back of his ear in thought and did not move to allow you in.

“Who’s at the door, Eita-kun?” And right before your eyes was the blonde date he agreed to go to the formal with.

Semi could literally see and feel your heartbreak. When your eyes traveled from her smiley disposition to him, he saw the narrowing – the pure anguish written across your face. It was something he never wanted to see ever again. The poor boy would do anything for you and it physically pained him that the cause of your sorrow was from him.

You swallowed your pride and yelled out, “I’m sorry for interrupting!” You ran down the hall, not caring that the door to Tendou and Waka’s room opened as you sprinted past it.

“Did you hurt her?” Wakatoshi asked a stunned Semi, who was standing in the middle of the hallway with a hand outstretched.

“I hate my fucking life.” Semi slapped a palm to his forehead. He had something to do first before he addressed you. He slammed the door behind him quickly, so neither volleyball players could throw questions at him.

“What was that?” The blonde girl asked, still standing and silently waiting for Semi. He had called her here a few minutes ago, saying that they needed to talk.

“We can’t go to the formal together.” Semi stated. “I’m really sorry if I’ve led you on.”

“Is it because of (L/N)-san?” She asked, smile still evident on her face. He nodded lightly. “You two honestly suit each other. Even I was surprised when you said yes to me.” She moved to the floor to grab her bag and leave, “May I ask, why did you agree to go with me?”

“I don’t know.” He sat on his bed and wanted to scream, it was rare for him to be so confused.

“You better get your shit together, Eita-kun.” She gave a small laugh and then exited the dorm.

There was no way that you were returning back to your dorm. You knew that your roommate and Reon would still be there and expecting details. You should have known! If you kept distancing yourself from Semi, it was only a matter of time that he found comfort in another person’s arms. You deserved this, really. You had been so petty and jealous without actually affirming your feelings to him.

Text Messages:

17:32 From: the most tender Salami What was THAT?!

17:29 From: Ushiwaka-sama! Where are you???

The only place that you knew would be free of any volleyball idiots would be the on-campus café outside of the nursing building. It only accepted money and not swipes from the meal-plan, which in itself was a turn-off from most of the volleyball teams. It was on the complete opposite side of campus from the gyms and you were sure that none of the people you knew were enrolled in medical-specific programs. Of course, everyone except from her.

It had been a full hour of dodged texts and missed calls when she neared your table. “Hi. You probably don’t want to talk to me of all people.” The blonde started, but still made a motion as if asking if she could take the empty seat across from you.

“You can have the seat. I was on my way out.” You grabbed your various things from the table, readying to leave.

“Wait, please just listen.” You paused in your movements and nodded, “Semi called me to his room to call off our date for the formal. He never meant to upset you and I’m sure he’s looking for you as we speak. Please give him a chance.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You interjected, “He said yes to you and I don’t want to take him away from you just because I am the one who is upset. You asked and he accepted your affection, something we never did. We’ve only ever been friends. With Semi, all I want for him is to be happy. He deserves all the happiness in the world, even if it’s not with me.”

Your eyes were wandering around during your speech, jumping from behind the blonde and your surroundings but never focusing on her. When you gazed back at her, she was holding a hand to her nose and lightly sniffling.

“You two deserve to be together!” She shouted, “Oh god I am so sorry for getting between you guys.”

Behind you, Semi was scouring the café in an attempt to find you. He spent too damn long thinking and not acting, it was finally time that he made his feelings known. Grabbing his phone on the way out, he called Tendou and Waka and neither boys knew where you were. A quick text to Reon and your roommate and they both asked why you were not with him. Semi sighed and continued in his search. Finally, he received a text from the blonde that she found you moping around here.

Semi could spot you in a crowd of rowdy volleyball players within seconds. He found your luscious locks of hair across the very person he left. Damn, he really owed that girl. She took rejection like pro and even took it a step further to keep you here until he arrived.

“Please, you have nothing to be sorry about.” You responded.

A pair of large hands slid to lightly weigh on your shoulders, “Can I interrupt?”

“Please do.” The blonde replied and quickly gathered her belongings. “I wish you two the best.”

Semi quickly took her seat and reached across the table to hold your hands in his. “You said you wanted to clear misunderstandings before you ran off. I need to do the same.”

His grip tightened and you squeezed back. “Let me start, since I owe you an explanation.” He nodded. “Eita-kun, you’re the only man I’ve ever had eyes for. Even if I spend time with Waka-kun or Salami, they’ve never meant more to me than just friends. You’ve always held the most special and largest piece of my heart.”

Semi smiled and moved his chair closer to yours. “I want you to know that I feel the same way. It’s rather small of me, but after you spent so much time with Wakatoshi… I wanted to test if you felt the same heartbreak I felt when I saw the two of you together. I realize now how spiteful that was of me, to the very girl I had feelings for.”

You placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, rubbing rather affectionately and he seemed to lean into it. “Looks like we’re a pair of idiots.”

“But now you’re my exclusive idiot.” He staked his claim and you wondered how his seat suddenly was right next to yours!

Semi nuzzled your nose with his own, smile enrapturing you for the oomph time. You closed your eyes and leaned forward, bumping noses until you felt the gentle touch of his lips against yours. You were entirely receptive, even moving further into his body to get the full scape of his silky lips. The tips of his hair were tickling the sides of your face. And you would kill to feel this sensation for the rest of your life.

His hands lost themselves in your hair, preoccupied with keeping a steady hold on the back of your head. You returned the embrace and he took that as an invitation to glide his lips against yours, silently asking for entrance. You moaned in answer and opened up slowly, but he took it entirely in stride – not skipping a beat.

It was only when a flash went off that the two of you broke apart, gasping for air.

“Holy shit!” Tendou yelled, Wakatoshi clapping not too far behind him. You flushed with embarrassment. God you moaned in public! “This one is for the page.”

You were about to interject when Semi stated, “Finally. Maybe now you bastards will get the message.”

New notification:

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Hot momma! Finally, it seems as though the couple everyone shipped together are finally official~ Hopefully we don’t have to mark this page as 18+ Tagged: Eita Semi and (F/N)(L/N) Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg / 3.gif

Semi led you back to his empty dorm, your roommate and Reon were bro’s and willingly offered to have a sleepover to give you two alone time. You were currently encased between his arms, legs tangled and speaking in low voices. He had you nestled beneath his chin, but most of your weight laid across his chest. Semi did not want this moment to end. He waited three years for this, it was a moment of love in the making. You laughed lightly in his arms, not a care in the world keeping you from him. You were both on cloud nine, basking in each other's presence. You never took Semi as a closet cuddle-whore, but you were not complaining. His arms encased you perfectly and you could not hold back from placing butterfly kisses across his chest. You loved him, it was only a matter of time that you found out.

—xXxXxXxXxXx—

➳ A/N: This fic may seem familiar because it’s being brought up over from our earlier Deviantart account! <3

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boredandelusive · 3 years

Text

15.

♞

The morning after, Spencer had to get to work. Seeing as he knew to bring a spare change of clothes, he got dressed before leaving for work. His mind still racked everything last night. Even if he doesn't remember it well, he admitted his feelings to her, and she said she loved him, too.

As he walked into the building and scanned his ID, he noticed some of the others sitting at their desks. However, the smile plastered on his face caught almost everyone's attention. "Uh oh, the pretty boy's got a smile on his face," Derek teased, which Reid dryly laughed at his comment.

"Come on, Spencer, did something interesting happen last night?" Luke asked, which he pretended to think about his answer.

"I don't know, I mean, I told Kiara I love her, and she said it back," he was happy, genuinely happy, and that was the first time JJ's seen him like that in a while.

"Congrats!" They cheered, which caught Hotch and Rossi's attention.

"What's goin' on out here?" Rossi asked for both men.

"Spencer confessed his feelings to Kiara, and apparently the feeling's mutual," Alex clarified, which the unit chief cracked a smile.

"Congratulations, Spencer. Does that mean you two are dating, now?" Hotch asked next, which the others shifted their glance to him.

"I think it does. I'll have to ask her later, but for now, it's safe to say me and her are dating."

♞

"And you're hacking into her security system, why?" The woman asked as she looked between the Angel and her computer.

"I just need a month's worth of footage, maybe? Something to scare the doctor into thinking I've watched her for months. Then, once I send him that same video, and with the note I have telling him to keep away, he won't have a choice but to do it." Angel answered as she moved to grab a note from her backpack.

"Did you manage to get the FBI off your tail, at least?" The woman questioned, which Angel nodded with a sucker in her mouth.

Moving it to her cheeks, she answered, "I had to stop killing, unfortunately. It gives them no new leads, which means I can work without having to be on the run all the time." Seeing as the woman nodded, she thought for a moment. "Name?"

"What?" The woman didn't expect that sort of question, and she needed more clarification.

"What's your name? I mean, all pretty faces have one, and I'm curious about you," the Angel answered, which the woman thought for a moment. "I heard the brunette call you G, but there has to be something else there more than a letter, right?"

"For now, you can just call me G," she didn't want to reveal anything about herself to the murderer. "Have you tapped in yet?"

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna record thee footage until she gets home. What are her hours? I'm assuming you know her so well," hoping to get more on Kiara, she needed to build enough of a video feed to spook the FBI.

"9 to 5 on the weekdays, 12 to 6 on Saturdays, nothing on Sundays. The Lotus Bloom has hours like any other job, and the profit is good." G responded, which the Angel nodded before pulling up the video feed from inside Kiara's house. "Is this it?"

"Yeah, for now. When her alarm goes off that she's inside the house, start recording. It's not the only one that day, so I'll leave this to you and give you the charger with it, too." She admitted with confidence.

"Thanks, Angel," she muttered as she took the laptop off the car's hood.

"You can just call me Eva," she greeted with a hand extended. Seeing as the blonde took the hand, they shook before letting go. "You have soft hands," she complimented.

"Don't make it weird. I'll tell the other woman about this, then I think she can continue with her plan," she admitted with ease, which made Eva look at G with confusion.

"Has she told you her plan yet? Her actual plan, and not some watered-down version of the plan?" The woman clarified, which G shook her head.

"Do you know something I don't?"

"No, I just wanted to know if she has something planned with Kiara. After all, one can't get revenge from far away," riddles, G never loved hearing them.

"Don't worry, she has something planned, and it's gonna exact revenge against Kiara for how she hurt her. That's all I can say, though. What's with the mask in the passenger seat, by the way?" G could tell Eva had something planned, but what it was? That was the mystery.

"You have to think of it like dominoes, G. The Lord has shown me how to get what I need, and it'll be done later today. Besides, I'm sure it will help with the friendship between you and Kiara."

♞

"So Eva Sinclair hasn't done anything recently? Why would she stop killing people so soon?" Emily pondered out loud, which made them think about their answer. "That woman couldn't go through a change of heart if she tried."

"Do you think she would be the type to work with someone? Unless Eva upped and left, there wouldn't be a reason for her to stop killing." There had to be something here, some sort of ulterior motive. If not, and Eva changed, she would still need to be brought in for questioning.

"I doubt it. If she worked with someone, that would mean there's another killer somewhere, and if that were the case, don't you think they would've made themselves known by now?" As profilers, it was their job to find out everything about the unsub, and in doing so, let them study the behavior as if they were the unsub themselves.

"Well, in the past, Eva took a kill order from someone back in 2010, but we couldn't find any evidence of there being a wired transfer," Tara spoke up, which the others thought for a moment.

"Maybe Eva was manipulated into doing it? After all, with the right words, religion is easy to use against someone." Derek remembered some of the past cases, and how the killings were to "prove themselves to God." Either way, this entire thing was concerning, and seeing as she went on a murdering spree before, there was something behind this.

"Which would mean there's someone else to look out for," Alex added, which meant there were more people who possibly shared the same goal.

"Well, until we can find out more, the safest thing to do is go home and relax. For now, we're working off of stubs," Hotch announced, which everyone got up from the conference room and separated.

"Hey, Spence, wait up," JJ called as she rushed toward him. Hearing her voice behind her, he turned around to see what was going on. "Try to have some fun tonight, alright? Take Kiara out, take some time off work."

"I will, don't worry," he started, but she knew he probably wouldn't live by that rule for long.

"I'm being serious. I know you tend to plunge yourself so far into cases you don't sleep. Don't do that tonight, at least." She clarified, which Spencer thought about it before nodding.

"I won't, promise," he assured before going to leave the building.

♞

The first place he went was home, and not at Kiara's, but home. Walking up the stairs, he looked around to see one of his neighbors walking inside their apartment. "Hey, Reid," they greeted simply.

"Hey, Harris," he greeted back before moving into his space. Looking around to make sure nothing changed, he set his bag down and walked toward his bed. For now, as JJ said, he needed to relax. Knowing Kiara didn't get off work for another hour, he had nothing to do for the time being.

Seeing as he bought a mirror recently, Spencer moved to the bathroom and took off his shirt. Looking at his chest, he could see some of the newer marks from Kiara on his chest. She was always so rough with him, and some masochistic part of him loved it.

Most of the red marks faded to scratches, and because most of the bruises were gone, he didn't like how quickly they healed. He wanted them to last forever, but he couldn't focus on that for now. Hearing a knock at the door, he put his shirt on and walked toward it before looking at the peephole.

Opening the door, he saw Genevieve, which caught his attention. She was supposed to be at work, but if she wasn't, then something was wrong. "Genevieve? How did you get here?" He asked in confusion.

"Kiara sprained her ankle, and neither of our phones is working. She kept telling me not to get you, but I insisted." It sounded believable, and her body language told the same story. So why couldn't he believe her?

"Alright, just give me a second to get my phone, then I'll go with you." Something felt off, and he just couldn't tell what it was yet. Either way, he went along with it, and in doing so, walked out the door with her leading.

"I know you're better at the medical thing than she is, and she wouldn't shut up about not wanting to go to the hospital." Genevieve continued walking until they got downstairs, which she opened the door for him to follow her. As both got into the car, she got into the driver's seat and Spencer in the passenger's seat.

"How come she couldn't call me, again?" He asked as a test, which Gen looked at him through the rearview mirror.

"Because her phone doesn't work, and neither does mine. She was attacked earlier, some mugger tried taking her things, and when she fought back, they sprained her ankle. When I tried intervening, they shot my phone out of my hand." She said with annoyance as she held up her phone. Seeing as a large chunk of the top of her phone was missing, there was a bit more belief in it.

"Did you leave Kiara there, or did you take her home?" Though it was a stupid question, Spencer had to ask to see what type of friend Genevieve really was.

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't take her home? I helped her into the bath with Epsom Salt. It may not do much, but that's why I came to get you." As they pulled up to her house, she walked inside and let Spencer move to his girlfriend.

Seeing her in the bathtub, he rushed over to the side. "Gen told me what happened, are you alright?" His concern was easily noticed, and as such, she lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"I'm okay, it hurts a bit, but I'm alright. I should go to the hospital, probably, but that costs money, and the bills aren't something I want to deal with right now." She admitted truthfully before moving up to get out of the tub. "Can you help me to my bed?"

"Of course," he answered as he slung her arm over his shoulder. Instead of going to the bed, however, they went to her chair and helped her sit down. Watching as he examined her ankle, he could tell it was fairly fresh, and as such, knew his examinations wouldn't be enough.

"You need to go to a doctor, I can't tell how bad it is. I mean, it feels like it's swollen, tender, and there's a chance it hurts when I touch it."

"That's because it does, I have bandage tape in the bathroom, and I have some old crutches in my closet. I'll be fine," she assured before walking toward the bathroom and grabbing the bandage wrap. Coming back to her, he wrapped her leg before moving to grab the crutches.

As he handed them to her, she stood up and leaned on them. "See? Makeshift help with a doctor," she said with ease as she watched him stand up straight.

"I'm not a medical doctor."

"You're a doctor enough, right? You have the Ph.D. in your name, and you've done a lot of studying for nursing, right?" Kiara wouldn't argue about this with him, as he still helped her with her injuries. "Hey, Gen, if you're still here?" She called out as she watched the blonde walk down the hallway to her room.

"I was just about to head out, but what is it?" She asked calmly.

"Could you take over some of my shifts until I get better? It might sound selfish, but-," Kiara started, but Gen waved her hand to stop the thought.

"It's alright, I'll take over your shifts."

"Thank you."

#spencer reid #suspense #spencer reid smut #spencer reid stories #sub spencer #pegging spencer reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds angst #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Alex Blake #behavioral analysis unit #Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

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deniigi · 4 years

Note

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

@blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

Silence.

MM: oh no

Yeah. Fuck.

MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

Two hours. One text.

MM: >:/

Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

GL: good news?

MM: [image]

He opened it.

SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

What.

MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

No way. Siblings were wild.

GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

Miles took a long time to respond.

MM: yeah

Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

Oh, nice. That was a relief.

MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

GL: sure

[GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

That—

Sounded kind of nice?

GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl

That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

#fic #inimitable verse #blindspot #samuel chung #miles morales #ganke lee

189 notes · View notes

ktheist · 4 years

Text

02 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content. oral (f receiving).

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.

“can we have morning sex?”

“not today.”

“is that my brother’s shirt?” is the first thing kim taehyung says to you after a whole night of you declaring war against him for choosing his girlfriend over you.

your body clock’s designed in a way where no matter how late you go to sleep, you’ll always wake up at 8 in the morning. the question of whether you can go back to bed or not varies. like right now, when your stomach is grumbling because it’s decided to deem that the spicy carbonara ramen you had has lost its sustaining-abilities.

“uh, is that a woman-choosing, best friend-abandoning human i see?” you say, eyes squinted at said human.

“whatever,” that seems to have taken taehyung’s interest off the creme colored sweater hanging off your shoulders and way past your butt. you could’ve not word shorts when you went out to get yourself a bowl of cereal. mainly because the brothers have a similar habit of sleeping in until the sun’s shining directly into their faces and they’d have no choice but to wake up - that is, in the event that they forgot to shut the blinds.

“what are you doing up anyway?” you ask but it’s a no-brainer because every friday night, kim taehyung and you would never fail to release a week’s worth of pent up frustrations over playing video games until the crack of dawn, “don’t tell me you haven’t slept.”

“unlike some people, i’ve got things to do,” he steals away the bowl of cereal you just finished preparing for yourself, “places to be.”

you can’t even get mad at his brazenness, not when those eyebags make him look like he’ll pass out with one swing of your punch. and you do punch like a girl - besides the fact that you are one, it’s already a settled fact that you’re really not fond of the idea of wasting your energy on something pointless - so you tend to give the least amount of energy for, for instance - if you do choose to - punching kim taehyung who’s walking away with your bowl of cereal.

so you fix yourself a new bowl, savoring it while watching an episode of the tale of nine-tailed and spending the entire morning catching up to the latest episode. it’s only until half an hour past noon, do you strut back into seokjin’s room, noticing the lump under the sheets now shifting with a sign of wakefulness.

“morning!” you greet, hearing the sound of hymns trickling into chuckles as seokjin pushes the sheet off his face and steals a glance at the uncalled for being that’s perched on top of him.

“you’re up early,” he remarks, arms stretched over his head, muscles flexing deliciously.

“can we have morning sex?” you put on your best smile, lashes fluttering in what you hope to be a coquettish manner rather than someone who looks like they have dust in both their eyes.

“not today,” he says but his large hand latches on your right breast, massaging with a expertise before pinching on your nipple and making you jump in surprise.

“ah!”

but before you get to complain, he’s pulling you down and engulfing you into a warm but shirtless hug (on his part at least).

“not fair,” you pout but snuggle closer anyway, forehead leaning against his chest.

but it’s short-lived because thunderous footsteps start echoing in the hallway and sounding dangerously close with each passing second. for a split second, you watch seokjin watch you, panic spreading across his face before your hands instinctively push him away. then the panic dissolves into alarm as he calls your name, accompanied by another timber-like voice that’s shouting out the same syllables.

“___!”

and then your butt hits the ground, then your back and your head at the same time.

“whew chile, that sounds painful, you okay?” taehyung sounds concern, but he doesn’t take any step towards you to further assert your head - you could’ve had a concussion for all he knows!

“um, gee thanks for making sure,” you want to roll your eyes, but you’re too busy rubbing the spot where your head made contact with the floor.

but seokjin, ever the thoughtful person, is already climing over the bed and pulling you up with one heave.

“why are you shirtless?” taehyung suddenly inquires.

the cozy creme sweater clinging onto your body feeling immensely inadequate as you ice up. he looks between you and his brother, screws twisting in that head of his before he asks another question.

“is that really my brother’s shirt?” his eyes scream concluded assumption.

well, it’s true, but-

“would you give me your sweater if i said i was cold?” you don’t give him a chance to respond, “no. right. so shut up. what do you want anyway? hurry up cause i wanna take a nap.”

“let’s play, the squad wanna go one more round with you before we all go to sleep,” he says, the matter of why seokjin is shirtless or if it’s really said man’s shirt you’re wearing now no longer a matter of importance.

you like how his brain works.

“the fuck? you came all the way here just for that?” you narrow your eyes, as if visually asking him if he knows whether he’s making sense or not but you get up anyway, walking towards your laptop that’s perched on the desk where you left it last night.

your friends greet you with less enthusiasm than they did last night - everyone sounded like they either need sleep or need a fuck. there’s no clear answer to what they need but you guess you’re up for one game.

“alright losers, let’s geddit.” your cheer is met with groans and tired version of ‘wooo’s and ‘yeah’s.

five minutes into the game, you feel a peck on your cheek and a smiling kim seokjin gazing down at you with bed hair and puffy cheeks. the smile you offer him back is fleeting because you have a character to maintain and a team to support. this time, you choose the supporting role while hoseok takes on the fighter role.

once you realize that the figure casting a shadow over you remains still and unmoving, you peek up at him for the briefest seconds to ask ‘what?’.

you’re only met with a higher tug of his lips.

and then he falls down on his knee - and you don’t even have the chance to wrap your head around it when he grabs hold of your ankle and spread your legs apart. lifting your ass up as he pulls down your shorts seem to be a muscle response than your brain actually understanding what’s happening. but by the time it does, seokjin’s face is already buried deep between your thighs.

“wah- yikes!” you manage to divert your surprise to the enemy that came on screen, forcing out a laugh, “th-that was a close one, whew i was about to die.”

“the fuck? you already had 8 hours of sleep what are you messing up for?” taehyung says into your headphone.

seokjin licking a strip up your love nub.

but that doesn’t stop you from retorting, “oh my god, did i tell you to play all night and not sl- sleep?” you bite back, barely managing to end your sentence with a consistent amount of sarcasm when the tip of seokjin’s tongue slips into your entrance.

“okay, okay, we’re all a little sensitive here,” jeongguk, the most competitive and non-losing-accepting out of the five of you actually tries to placate.

oh, you’re sensitive alright.

then he says something about how “we’re a team” and “if you wanna fight, fight the enemy team.” or something. you’re not so sure because you’re too busy clasping your hand against your mouth whilst trying to dish out healing powers to your team that’s fighting a few feet in front of you as seokjin tugs on your thighs, positioning them in an angle where his tongue can reach deeper inside you, so much so that your ass is almost hanging off the air.

“fine,” you almost choke on your supposedly vindictive reply as your toes begin to curl, back arching as the only sound that manages to escape you is a sob-like whimper whilst sparks erupt from the depth of your stomach and course through your veins like sweet, sweet poison.

seokjin kisses the inside of your thigh once your breathing slows down and you’re slumping on the chair like you have no energy left in you. jimin’s voice demanding you to cover for him barely registering in your brain as you click an ability that showers him with a protection spell.

“sorry, got distracted,” you say into the mic simply before hearing jimin’s “it’s okay, nobody died.”

literally.

if anyone of you died, it would’ve definitely been on you. last night, you got away with saying you weren’t in your ‘zone’ but today, your underperformance will be the reason you get kicked out of the squad for good. probably.

and because you’re under fire, you can’t stop seokjin when he slips away and out of the room, leaving you to make up for your mini blunder.

the game lasts a good 20 minutes before the golden symbol of victory flash across your screen and more energetic sheers erupt in your headphones. everyone starts bidding each other farewell and ‘good night losers’s before the headphones go quiet.

only then, do you bound down the hallway and into the kitchen where you know the reason of the sizzling, salivating scent is because of kim seokjin. a still shirtless kim seokjin with his beautiful, broad back on you as he chops something on the chopping board and gracefully pours it into whatever he’s cooking.

“that wasn’t fair - you should at least give me a warning,” you stand with your arms crossed over your chest.

“did the enemy you go against give you a warning before ambushing you?” he asks in a matter of factly, teasing smirk on his lips that makes your heart go flip flop.

he’s never smiled at you like that before.

“that’s- that’s different,” you refuse to back down, “they couldn’t even if they wanted to because the system doesn’t let us communicate with the enemy team.”

he nods whilst stirring the - you’d peeked - fried rice that’s sizzling in the pan, “i did give you a warning.”

“um where?” you can fee your eyebrows knitting together.

“the kiss,” he taps his cheek twice before shutting off the stove, devious smirk playing on his lips.

“i thought that was a bona fide peck!”

“that’s on you,” he shrugs, pouring the fried rice into four plates, “like namjoon says - never assume.”

“okay, maybe he did say that,” you concur, taking a seat across from him where he places the plate and offers you a fork and a spoon that he took out from their respective drawers under the counter.

“something smells good,” taehyung comes popping out from the hallway, bowl of empty cereal in hand as his eyes light up at the sight of the two other plates placed between you and seokjin, almost as if knowing that the only other thing that coud summon the kim brothers out from their dwelling is seokjin’s cooking.

“i’m starving,” namjoon announces, seconds apart from taehyung’s assertion.

so you have breakfast - or lunch, really - together like you would. just four kids from the same hometown who found home in each other’s presence.

you might’ve found something else that you like in seokjin’s pants - but that’s besides the point.

note. and here we go for the 2nd installment! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @scalubera @aretha170

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