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casuallyanidiot · 3 months ago

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Yandere FarmBoy

[Yandere M. x F. AFAB Reader]

it's a bit longer than i initially wanted this to be, but i had fun writing it! it's a bit more rushed towards the end so sorry if it shows. this was supposed to be for october, but i ended up not finishing it in time, so i'm very happy to have it finally done

TW. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Noncon, fingering, baby trapping, yandere, slut shaming, victim blaming, bullying, non consensual touching, misogyny, gaslighting, manipulation, implied future forced relationship, abuse of power

The local golden boy your father has hired has taken a keen interest in you, an impoverished farmer's daughter, and you can't seem to shake him off. As he doubles down on pursuing you, and you continue to refuse him, the lengths he goes to ensure you'll be his increase drastically with one autumn night and a chase through a wheat field.

7.2k words

You didn’t know why Daniel insisted on working on your father’s farm. It wasn’t like his family wasn’t well off. In fact, out of all the families within the valley, his was the most successful by far. Hell, they were the only ones who could actually afford to employ other people. He drove a shiny new truck just like the rest of his kin, and lived in a big, multi story house at the top of the hill.

Your daddy could only really pay him scraps. The land you lived on was rough to say the least, all overgrazed and tough, untenable soil that had a Ph level that could’ve come straight out of hell in your honest opinion. Basically, there wasn’t shit to be earned, and the only reason why your folks even tried to desperately keep growing crop after failed crop was because if they didn’t, then you’d be flat out homeless and starving. The stock your family produced wasn’t worth a dime, either. Milk too sour, corn too small, eggs so dull and tiny people thought that they weren’t even from chickens; you were surprised people even bought from your daddy at all.

The poor state of your homestead was reflected in nearly everything else around you. You always looked some kind of mussed up: Wild, unkempt hair, dirt under your nails, clothes that looked either too small, too big or way too out of fashion. You got bullied quite a bit by the other young ladies in town. That is if you could even be called a young lady. There wasn’t a lick of lady in you it seemed.

You and your family were always on the edge of going broke, going hungry or some other kind of misfortune, so you found it increasingly odd why the Petusky boy was so keen to get his hands dirty when there was nothing he could get in return.

Daniel Petusky, or Danny as he would so kindly remind you to call him, was by most accounts the sweetest, most eligible young man in town. He was a tall, stocky sort of guy with large, rough hands and a handsome smile. You’d be stupid to say he wasn’t quite the looker, and not to mention he was all muscular and strong lookin from all his time working. When you were in highschool, he’d been the star of the school’s football team, and there were even rumors that he was getting offers from big, fancy schools in big fancy cities. You remembered how blooming with jealousy you were back then because of that. But, as you were so constantly reminded of through seeing his working boots that had to be worth at least a couple hundred bucks, he was wealthy too.

He helped out around town, was sweet to older folks, and made all the ladies swoon with a flip of his sandy blond hair. He charmed your father just as easily, asking him if he could work his land for him, or at least help him with it. Of course your daddy would say yes. He needed all the help he could get, and lord know you weren’t nearly enough to actually keep this place afloat. Plus, who else would accept such low pay? It wasn’t like there was a line out the door for a chance to work at the [Last Name] farm, now was there?

You sighed as you hauled a bag of feed over to the chicken coop. It was mighty heavy, and you grunted as you nearly slipped in the mud. Hands shot out and grabbed your waist, and you gasped in surprise as the bag landed on the ground with a large thud.

“Careful there, wouldn’t want you to take a tumble now,” Daniel chuckled softly. His voice rumbled in your head like thunder on the horizon. He steadied you and pressed you close against his chest. Your heart thumped wildly in your ribcage, though only part of it was because of your little fall. No, it was the way his fingers inched over your curves, toying with the waistband of your jeans. You swallowed thickly.

“Thanks…” You mumbled out before you stooped down to pick up the feed once again. You didn’t miss the way his gaze stuck to you when you did.

“You really shouldn’t be doing heavy liftin’, you know,” He said and pushed you to the side to grab it from your strained arms. He made it look so effortless, and it annoyed you to no end. You followed after him into the coop, an encasement of wire around it. “That’s what I’m here for.”

You frowned and didn’t respond to him. You just kept on going as you ripped open the sack to spill out all the seed. The birds rushed around your feet to get their meal, and normally you would’ve laughed and indulged in petting a couple of them, but normally you didn’t have company. Daniel had been getting better at finding you it seemed. Day by day it felt like you saw him more and more.

You tried not to be one of those people that held onto their younger years, but whenever he was around, all you felt were the lingering memories from highschool. You were mocked on the daily. Most of the adults thought you were lost cause, always late to classes and struggling through the course material. You were called all sorts of names: ugly, stupid, slow. While he never bullied you directly, you always felt him staring. At games, in class, when he would drive slowly by you while you walked home everyday. You shuddered to think about it.

You always remembered a very specific moment that happened back in highschool. Especially now that you saw Daniel everyday again.

“What do you think about the farmer’s daughter?”

“Which one?”

He sounded so innocent, so sweet. Like he didn’t know.

“Don’t go fuckin’ with me, Petusky,” One of the guys chuckled, a cruel hint in his eyes. “You know which one I mean. The trash.” Oh… they were talking about you.

You were sitting in the diner eating a small plate of fries. You couldn’t really afford to eat anything more than that with your limited allowance and pay. You clenched your fist in your lap as you listened to the group of guys speak harshly about you. You were just out of view around the corner, all alone in the tiny booth usually reserved for couples and the like. The waitress shot you a pitiful look, and she slipped you a milkshake for free. It should’ve made you feel better, but it did more harm than good. She knew. Everyone knew you as trash.

“Come on, don't talk about her like that. She just ain’t got the means,” Daniel laughed. The sound rang in your ears, and you felt sick to your stomach.

“Or the looks.” A chorus of snickers erupted.

“She ain’t that bad,” He started, but he stopped short and just let out a playful sigh. “Hey, if y’all hate her, then y’all hate her. Can’t stop you from not wanting to fuck her if you don’t want to haha,” He joked. You could hear the strain in his voice and just imagine his blinding white smile. You busied yourself with the milkshake and tried to ignore how gross it felt to swallow down.

“Yeah, no way I’d ever touch that bitch without a three foot pole. Probably got fleas or somethin’.”

“Haha yeah…”

They sat there chatting shit for a while longer, and you sat there miserable, shaking, and on the verge of tears. You wanted to sink into the checker patterned floor and disappear forever. You knew people didn’t like you, but was it really that bad? Were you that awful? Your eyes stung, and you just stared at the empty seat in front of you.

Eventually, the group of guys, all clad in their Ariat branded clothing and snap back hats got up and got ready to leave. None of them spared you a glance, too busy filing out to their trucks to look around them. But Daniel did.

His hazel eyes swiveled over towards you, most likely just out of habit, and caught on you. He froze. The two of you stared at each other, and his face morphed from quiet shock to anger. The planes of his features, so normally joyous and polite, shifted into something so ugly and unfamiliar that you flinched.

No one else had seen, and no one, not even him, had ever brought it up again.

Daniel liked to follow you around when there wasn’t really much work to be done. The property wasn’t the biggest, so he could find you quite easily if you weren’t by the house. Like now, while you were lounging in the barn and reading a book while hidden behind some shelving. You clutched onto the pages of the novel (some old faded copy of a Jane Austen book that you had plucked from a free bin at the local thrift store), and looked up nervously as you heard his heavy footsteps thudding against the concrete floors. He loomed over you and hummed softly.

“What you got there?” He asked and crouched down to your level. You flinched back and glanced between the small, hard to read print and him.

“A book…” You mumbled out. It was always hard to speak when you felt so embarrassed. Everyone and their mother knew that you struggled severely all through school. The teachers pretty much gave up on you, and you stumbled your way through graduation. You’d never been very smart, but sometimes you wish you were. When that happened, you tried to push yourself and learn.

“Seems like a might hard for you,” Daniel chuckled and plucked it from your hands. You let out a noise of protest as he thumbed through the pages with a low whistle and patted the top of your head. You bristled a bit. “I’m sorry? Whaddya' mean by that?”

“Just that there are all sorts of fancy words in here,” He shrugged as he cozied up beside you. You could feel the warmth of his skin, burning from all the sun he soaked up, through the fine cotton of his shirt. It was long sleeved so that he wouldn’t get burnt during the heat of the day, but it didn’t make you feel any less flustered.

He was so confusing. Did he act like this with all the other girls in town? It was stupid to picture him as some robot who had his settings permanently flipped to flirt mode, but you genuinely couldn’t figure out why else he would be slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

“Daniel-”

“Danny.” He interrupted quickly, and you flinched from just how barely concealed his annoyance was. You tried to get up, you really did, but he was just so much stronger than you. You squeaked as he yanked you over his thighs. His strong bridged nose was pushing itself in the crook of your neck. “You call me Danny, you hear?” He murmured. His breath was so warm. All of him was just muscle and heat. You’d never been with anyone like this, never felt a guy’s chest pressed against your back.

Your daddy would skin you alive for this, surely. There wasn’t a single chance in hell that you wouldn’t be punished if not run out for fooling around with a respectable young man who you weren't even dating.

“The only thing we got is our dignity. It don’t pay no bills, but it do keep us in good graces. You do anythin’ stupid- and hear this well, girl. You do anythin’ stupid, and you’ll be out of this house before you can even pull your pants up.”

The threat was always so clear to you that it was impossible to not whimper and tremble as he groped you over your clothing. He chuckled, a soft sound that made you feel all sort of sick, and held you tight.

“Now honey, you don’t have to go all spooked on me.” He was kissing your shoulder, all tense and rigid. You felt like a piece of wood being bent far past what it should. Your bones were about to splinter, your heart about to fly out like shrapnel and just crack all over his insistent, firm hands.

“Don’t… It ain’t- ain’t right,” You stammered out. The spell was broken, and you started to grab at his wrists to get him to slow down. “ I’ll get in trouble,” You tried to reason, to hope that those golden boy manners would win out. Hope that he’d get off of you and leave you alone.

“Trouble? Hon, who you gettin’ in trouble with?” He laughed and reached up to cup your chin and face. Your head was pulled up in a craning stretch, and his fingers squished your cheeks in a playful, humiliating gesture. “With your folks? Don’t be silly [Name].”

“You’re grown, I’m grown… this is just normal between two grown people,” He hummed and started to tug up your shirt.

“H-hey! Quit it! I’m serious! I don’t want to,” You repeated, gaining your voice as he wriggled his way under the band of your soft, worn bra and began to knead your breast. He picked up the book while he pinned your legs underneath his own heavy ones and forced you to look at the random page he opened it to, completely ignoring your plea.

“Tell me, honey. What does this mean?” He asked

“What?”

“Read for me.” He drawled in a demanding tone. Your eyes flitted around nervously. “I want to know what you think you’re doing when you’re not with me. Hon, you really shouldn’t be wandering alone like this.”

“This is my farm-”

“Your Daddy’s farm,” he corrected and tugged on your nipple. You whimpered as a bolt of arousal coursed through you. Your cheeks flushed with heat. You’d never had such need dripping from between your legs before, and it got worse and worse as he pinched and rolled the sensitive nub between the rough pads of his fingers. You could feel the way his smirk felt against your skin.

“This ain’t your land, but that’s okay. I could buy it for your folks, make it so y’all don’t have to work so hard. And you’d get to sit pretty in the house all day, reading these books and whatnot. Now wouldn’t that be nice? Not having to work to the bone? Not having to get your pretty little face all mussed up?” He whispered and nipped at your cheek. You were on the verge of tears, watching helplessly as he threw your beat up novel to the side. You watched in detached horror as the words and ink were smudged and bled out by the small, dirty puddle it had landed in. Your hands curled into fists.

“Just say yes, honey. I’d treat you real nice. Promise.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and your entire body thrummed with shame, fear and arousal. You didn’t want to admit it. You’d rather have your heart torn out than ever in a million years say that it felt good, or that the attention he was sneaking you made you feel fuzzy inside sometimes. Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he made you feel like this weirdo for ignoring him when he was, in fact, an actual, honest to god threat.

“No.”

“Hm? Repeat that for me now, would you honey?” He purred.

You gritted your teeth and with a burst of strength, you shoved off of him. His molten caress was gone in an instant, and your thighs shook as you scrambled to crawl away. Your chest heaved in little short bursts, and he looked at you with genuine surprise. He looked at you as if it was the first time he’d considered you could even do that.

“I said no!” You didn’t think it was proper for a lady to be hollering at a ‘nice young man’ like that, but you did. You didn’t care who heard you, not that it mattered. The barn you were in was a decent ways away from everything else on the property. You smoothed your hands over where he had touched and kissed you, like it would get rid of the pure lust he was heaping onto you.

Daniel’s pretty face scrunched up into a glaring, furious version of itself. You could see the way his veins bulged in his neck and the way he flexed like a predator getting ready to pounce. You swallowed thickly, but you managed to wobble up onto your feet, to for once be able to look down on him.

“I don’t know what you think your talkin’ about, but I am not some- some easy girl that- that you can just sweet talk into giving you some,” You spat out. He moved to stand, and you took a step back. His hands came up in a placating gesture.

“Now, don’t go rattlin’ off about nothin’ you don’t understand,” He said, voice sharp. There was an undeniable frustration to the way he carried himself, to the way he huffed slightly and never took his narrowed eyes off of you. “I’m not talkin’ about foolin’ around, honey. I wanna have the real thing. Kids, a nice wedding, to come home to you every day… I wouldn’t just leave you,” he nearly spat. His lips curled in anger, but it wasn’t directed at you. No, it was more the suggestion that he was fucking around.

“You and me, [Name], are going to be a proper couple one of these days. And you’re gonna be my wife, I’ll tell you that.”

You shuddered. There was a slimy feeling working its way up your body, through your guts and through the tips of your stood up hairs on the back of your neck. He was crazy. A downright maniac. There was that similar look in his eyes, the one he had given you years back in that diner, and you wondered how deep this went.

How long did he spend stalking you through the fields, hoping to have you pressed under him? How long had he been trying to worm his way into your life? More importantly, when exactly did he decide that just faking nice wasn’t going to cut it anymore?

“Like I’d ever let that fuckin’ happen,” You spat and ran straight out of that barn all the way home.

There was a fall festival happening in town. Your daddy was preparing to sell things at the market, though there wasn’t much interest in buying fresh produce this close to winter.

“Now there ain’t enough to go around for you to go. Just stay here and we’ll bring you back something real nice,” Your mother had said with a small, pained smile before they packed up the truck full of goods and lumbred off into the orange painted sky.

You were left standing in front of your empty house with the porch light fighting off the oncoming darkness of night. It was quiet when your family wasn’t here to fill out the house with sounds of cooking, arguing and just life in general. There was a weird sense of unease that settled in your gut now that you were on your lonesome. It felt like shit to just be abandoned like that, to know that your kin was out there having fun and interacting with the rest of the town while you were stuck closing up the farm for the night. You sighed, fists curling at your side as you kicked idly at the gravel pebbles on the path.

Well, there wasn’t much use in throwing a pity party. The coop needed to be locked up, the heaters in the barn needed to be turned on, the gates all had to be checked. It wasn’t all that much work all things considered, but it was enough to have you pushing through the shadowed fields at a hurried pace.

You carried out your tasks, floating through the empty farm with a goal of relaxing down in your cozy bed to read more of that novel you had been so desperately trying to finish. The cool autumn breeze brushed past your skin and made you shiver. Goosebumps. How strange… it wasn’t cold enough for that.

It was nearly silent save for the rustle of leaves and the crunch of your feet against the ground. You hummed softly and rubbed your arms as night finally fell over your quaint home.

“It ain’t supposed to be this chilly yet,” You grumbled to yourself as you walked down the path to get back to your house from the back of the property. You eyed the wheat field and stopped in your tracks. Hey now… there wasn’t any harm in taking a shortcut, now was there? It wasn’t like your father was there to holler at you for walking through the crops. You knew your way through it pretty easily, didn’t get turned around or nothing even if it was completely dark. The moon was full and practically beaming down onto the golden stalks, now painted pretty and silver.

You weaved through the field with ease, sighing softly as you could see the roof of the house through the leaves. You caught sight of the peeling paint and nearly slumped in relief. Well, you were being excluded from the fall festivities, but at least you could get all cozy for once. You stepped out past the edge of the field and now in the open, eyes fixed low on the ground as you tried to not trip over your own damn feet, but when you looked up you couldn’t help but freeze.

There, standing in front of your porch, was a tall imposing figure silhouetted in the hazy yellow light buzzing above the garage.

You came to a halt instantly, your breath hitching right as your heart stuttered. “What in the…?” You whispered to yourself as you took in the sight of the stranger. He was looking at the spaces where the truck would normally be, and you had half a mind to not just run up and start hollering at this stranger. What if he needed help or something? You didn’t see any car around or nothing, so maybe he was in trouble. You squinted, and you couldn’t help the little gasp that left your lips as you realized that he had on a burlap sack fitted loosely over his head. He had gloves on too, the nice leather kind that you knew cost more than what you spent on groceries in a week. But no good man wore gloves when he wasn’t working, and this guy wasn’t doing anything but staring at the front door.

Your fingers twitched as you just stood there wide eyed and slack jawed. What the fuck should you do? The kind, ladylike thing to do would be to ask if he needed anything or if he was lost, but there was something stirring in your gut that was telling you to go and hide as quickly as you could. You slowly began to back away, one footstep at a time. It was like everything was frozen around you, your breath stilling in your lungs.

You couldn’t look away from him, even as you retreated further and further. His head swiveled slightly as he examined the porch of your house, and you were sent further and further into a frozen spiral as he finally turned to finally look at the fields. The fields where you were inching towards, to be specific. Of course you couldn’t see his features, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was searching for something. And when he finally turned so that you could fully take in the way his muscles tensed and his posture hunched into something more haggard and eager than you’d ever have expected, you realized that something was in fact you.

A scream tore out of your throat as he barrelled towards you, his hands outstretched and ready to catch you. You could hear him calling your name, but you just started running. How did he know you? It didn’t matter though, not when you could practically taste the danger in the air with every ragged breath you inhaled.

Leaves whipped against your face and arms, leaving faint red lines from how harshly they scraped you, but you kept going. The man’s heavy footfalls thundered after each of yours, and you shrieked in pure horror as he reached up and grabbed the back of your shirt and roughly yanked you back. Your feet skidded in the loose dirt as you thrashed and tried to fight him off.

“Stop fussin’ and behave!” He commanded, his voice gruff with annoyance. It sounded like he was purposefully speaking deeper than his normal voice would allow. He followed his words up by clamping his gloved hand around the back of your throat and shoved you down to your knees.

“Ngh! Let me go! My folks will be back any second, a-and then you’re gonna get it you fuckin’ spineless little-!”

Your snarling was cut off with another cry of fear as he squeezed down on your windpipe for a fraction of a second. He grappled with your shaking body as he pushed you up against his chest and pressed you down into the earth. Your eyes were wide and your nostrils flared with panic at the feeling of soil against your cheek.

“Your family ain’t here. They ain’t gonna be here for a while. Quit cryin’ before I give you something to really cry over… shit and I’m tryin’ to be all romantic. I know you’re stubborn but shit…” He grumbled and nuzzled his face against the crown of your head. The burlap of the sack was rough and unpleasant, just another layer upon the mountain of shit you were in. He inhaled deeply, sniffing your neck and shoulder through the barrier of fabric. You shuddered and balled your fists up.

That voice, that touch: it was all so horribly familiar.

“Daniel?” Your voice carried a hint of betrayal you wish wasn’t there. You disliked him, thought of him a creep, but this was beyond anything that you would’ve ever thought him capable of. But then again, when had he ever given you the chance to actually trust him. If anything, you should’ve expected this. Should’ve known. Should’ve done something.

He stilled behind you, his feverish panting ceasing all at once and replaced with eerie silence. Sweat beaded on your forehead as the moment seemed to stretch on forever. Slowly his hands slid over your belly, pressed between the ground and your soft skin and ruching up the fabric of your shirt.

“Daniel,” You repeated his name, more panicked. It was like you were back in the barn again, but this time you felt no warmth from his skin. His sun kissed boyishness that had you squirming with unknown feelings was now replaced with simple cold dread, bathed in silver moonlight and casted with iron resolve. “Daniel, stop it.. Please,” you croaked out as tears gathered in your lashes.

“... You can still say yes [Name]” He whispered, nearly as desperate as you were for a brief moment. You flinched at his voice, but you found no sympathy in his rigid form. You opened your mouth again to beg, but you squeaked as he covered your mouth with his thick, gloved hand. You squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m tryin’ to give you the world here, and all you have to do is be a good girl for me and take it, alright?”

The sound of your clothes ripping filled your ears, and he yanked the tatters of your sweater away. He grunted at the effort, shoving you further down to secure you while he reached underneath your squirming form to unbutton your jeans. The denim burned your thighs as it scraped past, leaving your skin sore to his kneading of the soft skin. His breath hitched once his fingers wormed their way past your clenched legs to cup your pussy through the worn cotton of your panties.

“ Oh…” He sighed, sounding so dreamy and fascinated. It was like he weren't about to do the worst thing that had ever happened to you. “Would you look at that,” Danny murmured and fucking squeezed. You kicked against him as hard as you could, and he only laughed softly. “You’re already wet.”

You screamed in protest at that, but he whispered shushes into your ear.

“No use denying it, honey,” He almost sounded amused as he dragged your underwear down to finally reveal what he’d been after. He finally let go of your face, and you gasped for air, letting out a string of curses so foul your father would've surely beat you for even uttering them. He ignored your profanities and wrangled your pelvis into his lap, your thrashing legs on either side of his thick waist. Your nails dug into the dirt as you tried to crawl away, but he shook you harshly. “Quit squirmin’! I deserve a good look at my future wife…” he grumbled, annoyance muffled by the burlap sack. It was even worse that you couldn’t see his face.

Suddenly, your cunt was burning. You hissed, and your fingers curled around the earth. “Ow ow ow!” You cried. Daniel made a curious noise.

“Hm, was hopin’ you’d be a bit looser… relax honey, I ain’t gonna hurt you. You just gotta relax a bit,” He cooed and stroked your lower back, squeezing the globe of your ass and holding you in place with one hand while the other was currently trying to stuff its digits into your tight, clenched walls. You squeaked as his thumb pressed harshly down on your clit, and you jerked at the sensation. “Shh, shhh, it’s okay …” he murmured. It was the same way you would speak to frightened livestock before it was sent for slaughter, all placating and sweet despite the animal knowing something was obviously wrong. Your dry walls clenched around the leather, pulsing as he worked at the little bundle of nerves until pleasure sparked like embers. Slowly, but surely, he worked your hole into a leaking, slicked up mess, his glove covered in your juices.

After a while of prodding and trying to roughly finger you, he finally stopped. You were crying, your tears mixing into mud now smeared across your cheeks. Instead of relief, dread took over your gut.

“I think you’re ready, honey…” He whispered, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Your thighs trembled as he stroked them and moved you once again. His arms wrapped around your waist, his muscular chest pressed against your back. His breath was hot against your neck and ear, the burlap sack rubbing against your skull. The sound of a zipper flying and denim rustling flowed into your frazzled brain. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to say no anymore, your head rolling forward limply to try and avoid his heady gaze that you could feel burning into your skin.

Something hard and hot pressed against your ass cheek, and you jerked away. He fumbled around for a bit, trying to line himself up with your clenched entrance. There were no more hushed promises or niceties, just rough grunts and the strain of his muscles against you.

The first thing you noticed was how much it burned. It wasn’t like that of being burned, though you wished it was. No, it was more like the stretching you would do in gym class way back when. It was past the point of comfort, feeling muscle thin out and weaken while you breathed deeply to stop feeling it so much.

He groaned in your ear, loudly too.

“ Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He rasped. “To have a moment like this?” You gasped as he bottomed out. Your guts were all squished up in places that you didn’t even know existed before. You moaned softly, partly out of pain and out of surprising warmth. Something stirred within you as he drew back, shuddering and stilted.

It took him a few moments to get it right, and he laughed in boyish glee when he finally managed to keep up a steady pace. He burrowed his head in the crook of your neck, joining you in the mud. Warmth spread through your gut as he pumped into you. At first it was just harsh prodding that hit the wrong angles in your stupidly wet cunt. Every blubber of fear, every hiss and whimpered ‘no’ only pushed him to find different places, find different ways to make you see stars and gasp when you should’ve been screaming.

“You’re always- fuck, you’re always fuckin’ teasin’ me,” He bit your earlobe through the thick fabric covering those charming, poisoned lips. “If it ain’t your goddamn folks around to stop me, then it’s you,” he practically spat, breathless and heady. “You ain’t got not right to say no to me when you know damn well that I’m the only one who can treat you well,” he snarled as his hips met yours roughly.

You felt so full, and when his hand dipped down once again to find your clit, you could do nothing but squeal as he pinpointed those spots that had you seeing blurry from both inside and out. Your back arched despite your muscles feeling like they were pulled thin to the point of no return, flexing and twitching with every slap of his balls against your thighs.

“You’ll see- hngh- you’ll see how good you have it,” He promised ominously.

He picked up the pace all of a sudden, emboldened by whatever was going on in that thick skull of his. You let out a strangled cry, your scuffed shoes kicking up dirt everywhere as the pressure in your belly finally started to rise into a frightening, all consuming pulse that rippled up your entire body. It was like nothing you had ever felt before, and it was fucking terrifying. Your eyes were blown wide, and you began to shriek and buck your hips not to meet his pace, but rather to seek and escape from the impending climax that was gripping your limbs and locking them in aching pleasure.

Danny shoved you further down, wrapping over you like he was some kinda snake. It felt like an apt comparison considering that this was the closest to being eaten alive that you could imagine anyone going through.

“ [Name] [Name] [Name] “

He chanted your name as he pumped his cock further and further into your pulsing heat. He was lost in the fervor of it all, too caught up to make his words coherent anymore. Not that anything would register through the haze of your tears and impending doom, but at least you didn’t have to pretend to listen.

“Ngh! Fuck!”

He had to be close by now. Your thighs were a mess of your own juices and smeared with his precum and sweat, and the two of you writhed together in some mockery of tenderness. Daniel gasped and tensed, his muscles locking together as he finally spilled his release inside of your waiting walls. His voice became high pitched and whiny, and then, in a moment of pure heat and desperation, he finally spilled within you.

You didn’t know when Daniel left your side, but it had to have been a few hours at the very least. You hadn’t moved, too shocked and sore to do anything but bleakly stare into the thick maze of wheat stalks just beyond your fingertips. But he did leave at some point, and when your folks came back, you were alone.

As you had suspected, your father was livid.

“ HOW COULD YOU BE SO FUCKIN’ STUPID?”

It was awful. Almost as awful as what had been done to you, but it was somehow even more shameful. It had been terrible, sitting there on a rickety dining room chair that screamed and groaned everytime you flinched and shuddered. Your mom at least had the decency to wrap a towel around you while you were torn into.

You had tried to tell them, “It was the Petusky boy” and “It wasn’t my fault”. None of your words seemed to hit.

“Danny wouldn’t do something like that.” Your Pa’s response was immediate, and you shut your mouth quickly, gaze boring into your hands curled in your trembling lap.

“Did you see who it was?” Your mom tried to coax out of you, though you got the impression she didn’t believe you either.

“No he had a mask but-”

“That settles it then,” Your dad cut in as he paced the room, his jaw was set tight, and your stomach churned uneasily. “He’s a good boy. A smart one too. He wouldn’t do something like that, and certainly not with you. Be honest [Name], you had to be askin’ for some shit. I’m not stupid. I swear-! We leave you alone for a goddamn second and you’re spreadin’ your legs for the first fool that comes by. And you have the nerve to blame it on an honest man,” he hissed out, and you felt tears brimming to your eyes.

Your mama glared at him, but she did nothing to say anything against her husband. She merely shushed you and rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“From now on, you ain’t settin’ a foot off of this farm, you hear?” He snapped. You sank further into yourself, wishing you could just disappear. “Now, we’re going to keep this quiet. You’re going to keep your trap shut about this, and you’re not going to say a word about this to Petusky boy. And if I find out you did or if you managed to knock yourself up? You’ll be out on your ass before the sun comes up.” The ultimatum was laid bare, and you could do nothing but bite your lip and nod.

In the next few weeks, it felt like you were living in hell. Daniel still worked on your family’s farm, and you tried everything in your power to avoid him. It was strange, though. Even though you could feel his eyes following you everywhere, he hardly spoke to you since that night. You almost could’ve mistaken yourself for having imagined it if it weren’t for the warning looks your Pa shot you nearly every hour. Honestly, it probably would’ve been better if you had just made it all up.

Of course, you couldn’t just forget, but you wish you could.

“Shit…” You murmured as you looked down at the faded calendar you had stashed in the barn along with your collection of paperback romances. It had been your escape recently, but now you once again were forced to face reality. You were late for your period. Pretty late at that, by at least a week in and a half. It was hard to ignore the reality that you could be pregnant, especially since he’d finished inside.

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

You screamed and tried to spin around, but Daniel quickly reached out to grab your arms and pin them in place, holding you still as his lips brushed against your earlobe. Revulsion and fear coursed through you, and your heart beat rapidly as he plucked the calendar from your trembling fingers.

“Hmmm,” His voice hummed low in his throat, a sweet noise that should’ve put you at ease, not on the verge of a breakdown. “You’re gonna have my baby,” He announced, smiling against your neck. Panic coursed through you, and you tried to squirm away as he snuggled up against you and dragged you over to some old crates to sit down. He played with the hem of your shirt, positively beaming with excitement.

“N-no I ain’t!” You protested with a face full of terror. He just laughed and hugged you.

“ I know… I know…” he murmured soothingly and pulled out a box, something rattling around inside. “But there’s a chance, ain’t there?” Pregnancy tests. A fucking two pack. You bit your lip, you couldn’t deny that you needed to know if you were or not. You silently took it from him and walked over to the run down bathroom. He waited, giving you space for the first time. Probably because he knew that even if he did, you had nowhere to run.

Two lines on both tests. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose as Daniel smiled softly.

“See? I told you I was going to make you my wife,” He reminded you, and you felt sick.

“My folks don’t believe that you did it.”

“Really? Well ain’t that something… don’t fuss too much, honey. I’ll just work my charm, and you’ll be up in my house with a rock on your finger by the end of the month,” His promise was firm, and he squeezed your side, careful not to press too hard on your lower belly.

“And what if… what if I don’t want to?”

The question was quiet, desperate even. His eyes burned a hole into your skull, digging around in your brain and trying to pull on your thoughts and feelings. Slowly, he reached his hand up and grabbed your face. It was just rough enough to make you stumble forward, and you gasped.

“ You think that anyone out there is gonna believe you over me?” He asked softly, deceptively so. “That anyone gives a damn about what you think and feel, [Name]? I am the best option you’ve got. I’m the only option you got,” He continued, entwining one of his hands in yours as he walked you to the door.

“Your folks don’t care, no one in this town thinks of you as anythin’ but a tramp, and, shit- when you start showing? You think anyone is goin’ to give you a chance to prove you’re anythin’ else? Now I know you ain’t stupid, honey. Come on, you know as well as I do that this is the best that you’re ever gonna get,” Danny’s words were mocking, and his handsome face was obscured in shadow by the light pouring in from the barn door. You swallowed thickly as he wrapped his fingers gently around your throat.

“And…” His voice lowered as he leaned in to look you in the eyes. “ If you decide you want to be dumb, then I don’t mind tryin’ again to set you straight. Matter of fact, I’ll keep doin’ so until you get it in yer pretty little head that you’re gonna be mine.”He dragged you out of the barn, down the dirt path, and up onto the rotting porch of your house. Daniel flashed you a dazzling smile, his fingers digging into your own. As he reached for the doorknob, you thought of a million ways of how you could get out of this, could leave and run for the hills, but in the end you could only stand there. He seemed to notice you lost in thought and pause, raised your hand to his lips, and planted a swift kiss to your knuckles. “Don’t you worry, honey. I’ve always got you.”

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quickestgold · 3 months ago

Note

Okay but LISTENNNNN. Reader and Jack having feelings for eachother but he pulls back (she’s still new , too young , etc) he’s been cold and she decided to take that day off work and go to Pitt Fest and …oh no…. (Still lives but it’s BAD)

Strip Her: Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

Synopsis: Amidst a mass casualty event, Jack’s medical instincts clash with his personal life when the woman he loves risks her own life to save another. Is he about to watch you die?

Warnings: Canon-typical depictions of trauma/gun violence, mass shooting, GSWs, blood; Reader basically does what Santos did, but in the field hah! > No "good girl" energy from Jack, just anger for putting yourself in danger lol

Word count: 2k+

A/n: Thanks so much for sending this in, so sorry it's taken so long!! Lmk what you think!! ♡

This is not exactly in our mass casualty plan.

Blood is for the ones we can save.

Ten other patients will die if you put all of your energy into saving this girl.

Jack’s own words haunt him, playing through his mind on a torturous loop.

He looks at Robby, pleading for something. Then back at you, watching you fight for your life.

"Hi, handsome."

"Wanna come over after your shift?"

Read.

You huff out a humorless laugh. The old man really left you on Read.

You know Jack isn't a big texter, making the age-gap between you hilariously obvious. But today it gets to you.

Jack isn't your immediate superior, but you wonder if this is why he's been acting cold. More than usual.

The ER staff love to talk. Of course they do. But neither Jack nor you care about that. You’ve made it clear there’s an undeniable connection between you.

So, you’ve acted on it.

The last couple of months have been bliss, an unspoken understanding of exclusivity.

But now, Jack's been distant. Swapping shifts, avoiding working with you.

Was it something you did?

You've already double texted him today, wishing him a good shift and letting him know that Robby's asked you to 'babysit'.

How embarrassing. But you draft another.

"Heading to Pitt Fest now, will be up for some fun when you get home... ;)"

You delete the last part. God. Don't show your age!

"Heading to Pitt Fest now, see you soon."

You hit send.

Code Triage. Emergency Department Now.

The mass casualty event is in full swing. Patients come and go. Green. Yellow. Pink. Red. Black and White.

It's a haze of coordinated chaos.

Jack keeps trying to reach you in-between treating patients, leaving you countless voicemails.

Of course he would.

"Hey, Y/N. It's Jack. Call or text me the second you get this message, okay?" His voice trembles. "She's not picking up."

"I can't reach Jake either." Robby mutters.

"I'm sure they're ok." Dana offers gently.

Time slips away, minutes turning into hours. Their shift was supposed to end a while ago, but they've stopped keeping track.

"I'm going to check on triage." Robby announces, stepping out to help Shen and Ellis assess incoming patients. "No pulse. Black and white. Pink zone. Strong pulse. Unresponsive. No obvious GSW. Red zone GSW left chest."

A familiar voice cuts through the noise. "She was talking when we first got into the truck. T- There was so much blood."

"Jake!" Robby's at his side in a flash.

"Robby! Leah got shot. It's really bad...", Jake cries out.

Robby is at a loss for words, his medical instincts fighting the fatherly ones in a gruesome match.

"I've been putting pressure on the wound the whole time", Jake stutters.

"That's good. You're good", Robby reassures him, more for himself than Jake.

The team rushes Leah into the ER. Jake follows closely behind. "You can't stay with her. There's no room and we need to work on Leah right now", Robby says firmly, getting to work immediately.

Jack spots them and hurries over, panic rising in his chest.

"Where’s Y/N?" he asks, voice tight.

"I- I don’t know," Jake mutters. "She stopped Leah’s bleeding, then went back in."

"What do you mean?" Jack growls, trying to keep his voice calm.

Robby looks up, taking in Jake's words. The lines on his forehead growing deeper.

"People were screaming. The shots were so loud. She- She went back to see if others needed help." Jake's eyes well up, before he is wheeled off to get treated.

Of course you would put someone else's safety over your own.

Others might see it as noble, but Robby and Jack think it's reckless.

They exchange a look, knowing there's nothing they can do to reach you. To make sure you're okay.

Jack is called to another patient, while Robby proceeds to work on Leah.

Despite their best efforts, it's not enough.

Minutes pass. Jack watches Robby closely, his desperation becoming more evident by the second. Dana gives Jack a knowing look, recognizing the only person who can reach Robby right now is him.

Jack steps closer, glasses off, his voice gentle.

"The bullet tore through her heart", he says softly, giving Robby time to process.

"Anyone else with a wound like this is pronounced dead in the field. You can't keep up with the blood loss. If she was our only patient, we'd do a thoracotamy, maybe ECMO. But even then, I doubt we'd get her back." Jack's words hang heavy in the air, but he continues.

"We're gonna lose ten other patients if you put all your efforts into saving this girl." Jack doesn't let it show, but it pains him to see Robby hurting like this.

Robby does one final pulse check. But Leah's heart is no longer beating, the realization shattering his own.

"Okay, we're done", Robby whispers, breaking.

"We stopped at 19:47", Dana declares. "Move her to Pedes?", she asks gently.

Robby just nods.

"You want me to go with you to talk to Jake?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, thanks. I got it."

But another gurney is wheeled in. Robby notices first.

"Jesus Christ", he mutters. "What's going on?"

"Female. 30s. GSW to the right inguinal region. Retroperitoneal bleed", Dr. Mohan declares. But there's someone else kneeling at the end of the gurney, holding the patient's leg up. Robby and Jack's eyes widen, when they meet yours.

"The bullet must have tracked north and hit the external illiac", you state nonchalantly, ignoring the stunned looks from your colleagues.

It was supposed to be your day off.

"Dr. Y/LN did a REBOA in the field to stop the bleeding", Samira continues.

"You did what?!" Robby gasps, incredulous but unable to hide his pride.

Jack is by your side in an instant. "Are you shitting me?"

"Hello to you too, Dr. Abbot", you smile weakly, still focused on the patient’s wound.

Another time, your smile would’ve lit a spark. Not now.

Jack's anger is palpable.

You’ve seen it before, his cold, stone-faced demeanor, always one existential crisis away from breaking. But never directed at you.

"Are you hurt?" Jack’s voice is dangerously low.

He's scared.

Robby and Jack scan your blood-soaked clothing. You quickly dismiss their concern.

"Uncontrollable bleeding from a pelvic artery, no other options. I blew up a balloon in the aorta to stop the bleed. Going in a few inches, zone three, below the kidney. I just needed to hit the femoral artery."

You hesitate, but go for it anyway.

"Piece of cake", you grin, weaker than usual, but you hope they don't notice. They do.

"Radial's stronger." Mel confirms.

Robby and Jack both notice your uneven breathing but chalk it up to the stress and trauma you've experienced.

"Also, GSW to the chest, left hypochondriac region. Probable internal bleeding", you continue.

"No. That's not true-", Samira objects.

You direct everyone's attention to your own chest, your breathing becoming erratic.

"What?!" Jack's voice cracks, disbelief, shock and fear hitting him all at once.

You feel like you can hear your own heartbeat, the ER growing eerily quiet at your confession.

"Okay. Let go of her leg", Robby orders in an intimidating tone.

"Gurney!" Jack barks.

"I need to lock the balloon first." You stare directly into Jack's eyes, knowing he won't budge. You turn to your friend and mentor, pleading.

"Robby." He knows you're right.

"Do it." Robby nods, ordering Whittaker to check the wound once you're done.

"BP's 110, by palp", Donnie announces.

Jack remains frozen, his mind racing a million miles a minute.

"The balloon can stay up for an hour max. Get IR and Vascular on the case." Robby directs, before drawing everyone's attention back to you.

Your patient is stable.

You've done what you can.

But the blood loss is catching up with you.

"I- I think it's a through-and-through. My back hurts like hell and my legs feel funny." Jack snaps out of his trance, his training kicking in.

Robby lifts your top, shocked at the severity of the injury. Jack shuts his eyes, unable to stomach the sight.

It must be bad.

But it doesn't hurt too much.

Not a great sign.

"Okay. Stabilize her", Robby orders, multiple hands are on you immediately, steadying you. Grabbing the base of your neck, your shoulders and hips, securing you in place.

You're still sat on the gurney, but have now let go of the patient's leg.

"Strip her", Jack commands, voice low and firm, eyes dark and unreadable.

You try to lighten the mood. "Gee, buy me dinner first, won't you?"

A few giggles from the team, but Jack's lips are tightly pressed together in a fine line, facing downwards.

Dana cuts through your top, leaving only your bra. Unusual. But you're relieved to not flash your coworkers. You'd rather like to maintain the mysterious vibe you've got going on.

"Cowards", you tease. More chuckles, but worry growing on everyone's faces.

You whisper to Jack, "I'm sorry."

He doesn't respond. Can't look at you. Instead he orders a chest tube and a unit of blood.

A sharp gasp rips through you, the weight on your chest suddenly making it hard to breathe. "Fuck, that hurts." Any last traces of playfulness vanish, replaced by something else.

Fear.

Jack realizes he has to save his anger for later. "Hey. It's okay", a slight smile now tugging at his lips. "I've seen you worse", but the vulnerability in his voice betrays him.

Shit. It must be really bad. He's cracking jokes now?

Your anxiety spikes.

Is Jack about to watch you die?

You shiver at the thought. Or maybe it's the blood loss. Probably both.

Your vision blurs. Your thoughts get foggy.

"J-Jack?" You're not sure he hears you. Or anybody really. Did the words even come out?

Your eyes flutter shut. There are no more thoughts.

Only darkness.

Robby orders Jack to step back, the roles tragically reversed.

This is not exactly in our mass casualty plan.

Blood is for the ones we can save.

Ten other patients will die if you put all of your energy into saving this girl.

Jack’s own words haunt him, playing through his mind on a torturous loop.

He has been distant with you. But not because of your age, or your careers.

No, it's because letting you in means risking losing you and he knows he can't survive that kind of pain. He’s seen too much death, too much loss. And loving you only makes that fear stronger.

He looks at Robby, pleading for something. Then back at you, watching you fight for your life.

"I know." Robby is laser-focused, but shudders at the thought of Jack up on that roof again.

Painfully aware of the inevitable cost of losing you.

They won't. They can't.

Monitors and machines beep in a faint rhythm.

You wake, eyes heavy. A familiar figure is propped up in the armchair beside your bed.

He looks like shit.

Jack's wearing the same bloodstained scrubs, dark circles beneath his eyes, hair dishevelled. On second thought... it's a look.

"Hi, handsome", you whisper, unsure if it’s the relief of being alive, the pain meds or just seeing Jack, but a wave of comfort floods you.

He leans in, eyes wide with tenderness.

"Hi, beautiful."

His gaze radiates a warmth that kept you alive, even when your skin grew cold.

"How are you feeling?" His voice is soft. So unbelievably soft. The anger has subsided, but you know there’s a conversation you’ll have another day.

He takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"Peachy", you exhale, giving him a warm and genuine smile. He returns it, his shoulders relaxing more with every steady breath you take.

You hesitate, but finally go for it. "So, about you leaving me on Read." Your smile turns into a familiar smirk. "You know only old people leave voicemails, right?"

Jack's breath catches in his throat, caught off guard. He chokes out a strangled laugh.

"You're unbelievable", he says, before leaning down, his lips brushing gently over yours.

The grip this man has on me I swear... Also, I'm still in shock from ep13 and I fear it's only getting worse... Jack being so rational about letting Leah go was So Painful, so writing this was very cathartic. Pls comment/share your thoughts below. ♡

#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #dr abbot x you #dr abbot x reader #shawn hatosy #the pitt hbo #michael robinavitch #dr robby #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #dr abbott x reader

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allllium · 8 months ago

Text

Just an Accident

~ Jason todd x reader who was accidentally hurt

~ Fluff, Jason being dramatic, WC:

~ Inspired by @mostly-imagines

[Thank you guys for being so patient while I finished this and thank you for all likes 💓💓 I really wasn't expecting anything till this was finished. Hope this meets your expectations <3]

Jason tried really hard to keep his secret secret from you but let's be honest, he's very obvious about it. Especially once you meet his family.

After he finally came clean to you about everything, he became even more protective. More protective than you ever thought possible.

He would freak out anytime he didn't know where you were or if you got hurt in any way.

"I'm so so sorry." Bruce says, following you through the mansion repeating his apology.

"It's okay, Bruce, it was an accident." You reply, "I should've known."

Honestly there was no way you could've known that Bruce was creating some elaborate booby trap on the kitchen counter that would fail and smack you in the face when you walked into the kitchen.

It didn't hurt too bad, luckily Bruce was testing things with plastic and not the real materials.

From the look of it though, you'll definitely have a mark on your nose and possibly a bruise under your eye.

"I had no idea it was gonna do that." He continues defending, knowing how Jason will react.

"It's fine, I swear. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." You walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. Bruce sits next to you.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. Obviously freaking out.

"No, it's alright. It really doesn't hurt."

"Oh shit." You hear Dick gasp. Coming in through the front door with Tim.

"Oh, what did you do!?" Tim asks, "Jason is gonna kill you."

"It was an accident, everything is fine." You try to calm everyone down.

Seeing that you're okay, Dick can't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Jason is never gonna trust you again Bruce." Tim hits Dick on the arm and rolls his eyes. To the side of you, Bruce leans forward to hold his head in his hands.

"I think you guys are being a little dramatic. Jason isn't gonna kill him."

"No you seriously underestimate how Jason will react to this." Tim tells you.

"Yeah, remember he almost killed me for making jokes about you when you first got together."

"What?" You turn to Dick in confusion, "I don't remember that."

"Not important," he waves it off, "The point is, we need a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"A plan to hide this from Jason" He tells you, in a tone that screams obvious.

"How would I do that, Dick? I live with him."

"I don't know yet, that's why we need a plan!" He exclaims, pacing in front of the couch.

You roll your eyes, "You're being dramatic."

"No he's not." Bruce says. You fall back into the couch and cross your arms over chest.

"Bruce please. I need at least one of other person here to be an adult."

You can hear Tim laughing as he sits in the chair next to the couch.

"Well, he's right. Jason's gonna be pissed." Bruce shakes his head at you. He stands from the couch and starts pacing with Dick.

"They're gonna make me lose my mind." You mumble under your breath. You run your hands over your face, this childish behavior you're watching isn't what you were expecting from Batman and Nightwing.

Okay to be honest you were definitely expecting this from Dick.

Tim leans over to whisper to you, "You should make a break for it, they're too busy plotting to notice you leave."

"Let me guess," you whisper back, "you've had to make a break for it a couple times?"

"More than you know." He shakes him head and has a serious look on his face.

"Well, have fun with that." You laugh and walk out the front door. Tim was right, both the guys were so busy trying to figure out how to hide you from Jason, they totally forgot to hide you.

You rush home to meet Jason. You were supposed to meet for dinner but obviously you got a little distracted.

"Hey baby." You sigh when you walk through the door. Jason is in the kitchen cooking dinner. Whatever he chose to make, made the whole room smell amazing.

"Hey. What took you so long?"

"I stopped by the mansion to borrow that thing from Alfred but he wasn't there." You tell him, referencing some cooking tool you wanted to make desert for after dinner.

"Where did he go?" You want into the kitchen to see him while you talk.

"I have no idea. I got distracted by something Bruce was doing." You walk over and take a piece of food that he's cutting.

Without looking, he softly smacks your hand away.

"Rude." You laugh.

"This is my sacred space." He puts the knife down and gestures over the whole counter.

"You're ridiculous." You laugh again and kiss him on the cheek.

"How dare you." He puts his hand on his chest in fake offense. Only then does he turn to actually look at you. "What happened?" He immediately asks.

"Oh it's fine, just got smacked with some plastic " Which is apparently not the answer he wanted.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He grabs your face gently and examines the marks on your face.

"It means I got hit with some plastic. But it doesn't hurt." You quickly explain, but he doesn't let go of your face or stop freaking out.

"What plastic?"

"Bruce was experimenting with something and it didn't work."

"He did this?" He lets go off your face to run his hands over his own.

"It was accident. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose and you know that."

"I don't care if it was an accident, you're hurt."

"Jason." You say firmly. He's obviously surprised considering you never use his name to address him. "An accident is an accident and you're not gonna hold this against Bruce. He already apologized and clearly felt bad."

"But you're hurt" He pouts.

You step forward and wrap your arms over his shoulders. "It doesn't hurt. It was just some plastic."

"It left a mark."

"I promise I'm okay. And I want you to promise you won't hurt Bruce for this." You look right into his eyes and do your best to give him a puppy dog look. Which isn't necessary because he can't say no to you anyway.

"Fine I promise I won't hurt him." He presses his forehead to yours, "I'd rather leave him to stew in fear anyway."

You chuckle at his words. "As long as no real harm comes to him I won't stop you from having fun."

"Good." He kisses you once and heads back to make dinner. You have no doubt Jason would ever actually hurt Bruce over something so small but you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Hopefully this'll stop Dick and Bruce acting like absolutely children in the future.

Yeah that'll never happen.

Not even 10 minutes after finishing dinner you get a call from Dick.

"How dare you?" He asks the moment you answer the phone. "You're a traitor."

"Again with the dramatics Dick. You can't stop me from going home."

"Let me guess Jason's on his way here to get some revenge right now." He says in a very childish and fearful tone.

"No! I was right, you guys are way more dramatic than you should be and he has no intention of killing anyone." Jason looks at you as you talk to his brother. Clearly wondering what he has to do with this situation.

"I don't believe you. You've shown where your loyalty lies."

"Why are you talking like I'm an enemy or something?"

"Maybe you are! How should I know?"

"Okay you're right." You decide to play along, "I couldn't stop him from wanting to kill Bruce, he's on his way there right now."

Jason furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"I knew it! Mark my words one day-"

His voice cuts off when you hang up.

"There is something severely wrong with your entire family." You tell Jason with a blank face.

"Yeah I know." He puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into him.

Hmm you wonder how long it takes till Dick realizes you lied.

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livinghalfway · 6 months ago

Text

Younger Years

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 1541

No one was prepared for the event that occurred a mere hours ago. Nightwing and Robin had been investigating an unknown target that had recently been causing trouble near the docks. There wasn't supposed to be an altercation, but when the person of interest showed up they weren't going to just let him walk away.

This target had a trick up his sleeve though; literally. The moment he was cornered by the two vigilantes he had thrown a magical blast at Robin that managed to hit him square in the chest. By the time Nightwing had reached his side it was already too late and the magician had used that as his way to sneak away.

“Robin?” Nightwing's voice is hesitant and soft as he peers down at the very small passed out child that lays in a pile of clothes. “Oh no.”

As soon as the now tiny Damian is into his arms he’s rushing back to the cave. “Oracle, Robin and I ran into some trouble during our investigation. Alert Batman that he needs to get back to the cave as soon as he can.”

“What’s happening? Do I need to get Dr. Leslie to the cave as well?”

“No, not yet at least; neither of us is injured. We’ll need to contact Zatanna or Constantine though. It seems Robin got hit with some kind of de-aging spell.”

The line on the other end was silent for a few moments before a soft snickering sound filled the comm line. “... I’m contacting everyone. How young would you say he is?”

“If I had to take a guess I’d say he’s 6 maybe 7.” Nightwing says as he glances down at the sleeping boy in his arms. He is taking so many photos as soon as he’s back in the cave Dick promises to himself.

"So we have a baby assassin who's still deep in the LoA mindset. Is he awake right now? I can't imagine you'd be talking this calmly if you were trying to settle a Damian who doesn't know you and seemingly woke up in a new location."

"He's asleep right now." He couldn't help but let out an exhausted sigh knowing that it wasn't going to be a fun time when Damian eventually wakes up, "As long as Robin doesn’t kill or hurt anyone by the end of this I'll count it as a personal win."

"That'll count as a win for all of us." She hums, "Everyone available tonight has responded and should be waiting for your arrival. Good luck."

With that sign off the comm link went silent. He looks down at Damian's sleeping face once more and can't help but can't help to mourn the fact that this is the youngest he's ever seen his baby brother. He loves Damian at his normal age of 14 years old, but he also knows that he's going to enjoy having him this young as much as he can.

It only took a few minutes after that to finally reach the cave. Dick took note of Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Jason, and Duke who were also in the cave, but ignored them for the moment in favor of rushing Damian to a med bay bed to lie him down.

Before Dick can even fully settle Damian down he feels the familiar looming presence of Bruce standing behind him. "I hope you have a camera with you; I want to fill a photo album before this whole thing is done."

"We need to confirm that this is actually Damian first." Bruce reaches out, running a hand through the child's hair before gently plucking a couple hairs and turning away back to the computer.

With Bruce occupied on the other side of the cave Jason, Tim, and Duke all shuffle in around the bed. Predictably, Tim does have a camera at the ready and immediately snaps a picture of Damian as soon as he's in the room. "I'm never letting him forget about this."

"Just make sure you send me all your photos of this before trying to blackmail him to do anything with them." Dick is quick to say; he's getting his photo album one way or another. Knowing Damian he's going to try and destroy all evidence of this occurring.

It is then that Alfred walks into the room as well, "Before we continue with the photos I insist we dress Master Damian in clothes that will more properly fit than the ones currently wrapped around him."

After that was said Alfred gestured for all the boys out of the med bay room while he got Damian dressed in what must be some of Damian's smallest clothes that the older man was able to find. While waiting to be allowed back in the room a ping sounds out from behind them. It seems the DNA test is complete.

"Well B, is it a boy, or are you still paranoid that the demon brat in there isn't actually Damian?" Jason questions as he walks forward and snatches the report. "Let's see! Yup, the boy is Damian alright; Bruce was being paranoid for no reason as usual."

"How funny would it be though if the spell did just replace Damian with a 6 year old look alike though?" Duke grins as he takes a look at the report as well.

"… You think there's a spell that does that?" Jason looks far too interested in knowing that answer if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

"We could ask-"

"You will not be asking anyone that question." Bruce quickly interrupts that conversation from continuing. If Dick had to guess though he'd say that it wasn't over based on the look Jason and Duke share with one another. "I've already contacted Zatanna, and she's on the way now to assess the situation; nothing more."

Tim scoffs and gives an exaggerated eye roll, "Oh, might as well let them ask otherwise-."

It was just then the zeta tube pinged and Zatanna was then standing in the Batcave with them. At the same time Alfred also exits the med bay room. "Well Batman, I'm sure you don't want me to be here more than necessary so let's go ahead and take a look at the little Robin."

"Hm."

With nothing else said Bruce turns and walks to where Damian is sleeping; Zatanna follows silently behind him. Dick and the others follow as well, not wanting to not hear what she has to say about Damian's situation.

Everyone watches silently as she examines Damian, saying a few magic words before addressing Bruce. "Well the good news is that this isn't permanent. The binding magic surrounding him is pretty weak."

"And the bad news?" Dick is immediately asking.

"The bad news is that this isn't something I can just undo right here right now. De-aging magic is always complicated, and the less risks we take the better." Zatanna tells him, "Which means you're just going to have to wait this out. It looks like it'll only last a couple of days."

Perfect! Dick can't help, but think that is a perfect amount of time. He can definitely get a photo album of the amount of pictures in that time, and they all get to spend time with Damian as the youngest they've ever seen him! The only thing they need to do is make sure the baby assassin doesn't hurt anyone.

The group after that naturally filters back into the main area of the cave. Zatanna and Bruce share a couple quiet words before she enters the zeta tube and it is only them in the cave once more.

"Guess the only thing to do now is to wait for the demon brat to wake up." Jason gleefully exclaims, "I for one am excited to see how B handles the little terror."

"Should one of us be there when he does wake up?" Duke asks; clearly thinking about the kid possibly waking up and trying to attack them.

Tim immediately shouts out, "Not it!"

"I'll do it," Dick assures Tim, "I still need to write my report anyway. I'll let you all know when he wakes up."

With no complaints Dick gathers his things, and goes to take a seat next to Damian while he writes up an official report of the events that occurred tonight. As he does he makes sure to look up every few minutes; he's not sure when Damian might wake up, and he wants to be ready when he does.

After half an hour Dick was just finishing up, and he could still hear his brothers loudly talking about something. It warms his heart to think about the three of them getting along; with that in mind he takes another glance at his littlest brother. Damian is of course glaring at him with the cutest little pout.

Wait.

Damian's awake!

"Hey Damian," he makes sure to speak as gently as he can, "do you feel okay? What's the last thing you remember?"

Now, Dick expected Damian to attack one of them at some point during this; what he didn't expect was for him to do it immediately to the first person he saw. He probably should have though.

#dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #batfam #damian and danny are twins #de-aged damian wayne

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sweetcalebb · 21 days ago

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Bad Fight

⋆˙⟡ you and caleb have a fight after he decides to put some stranger in his place, stripping you of your autonomy. again

cw: angst

a/n: this is for my avoidant girlies 🫶🏻

──★ ˙

The tension was suffocating. Tonight was supposed to be a fun and relaxing—a rare break from both of your jobs. But Caleb had ended up telling some guy off for looking at you and ruining the whole night.

God.

What right did he have to just.. do that?

You sounded like an asshole, but Caleb was always hovering, always trying to play the knight in shining armor. But you weren't the little girl that needed saving anymore and he didn't seem to get that.

Now, you were silently walking up to his apartment a few steps behind him, your chest tight and your cheeks burning from frustration.

When he let you in, you didn't even thank him. Just walked past. And it killed him. He sighed, running a tired had through his hair before shutting the door and following after you.

"Hey, are you seriously still upset?"

Heat shot up your spine. It was that 'seriously' he threw in there that really made the churn in your stomach worse. He said it like he couldn't believe you were mad at him, like what he did was so noble.

But you pressed your lips into a hard line, refusing to answer.

"Okay. So that's a yes."

Still nothing.

Wordlessly, you shrugged off your coat, then draped it over his couch. You knew you were being a bit childish. The cold shoulder? Yeah. That was never the way to go, but you didn't trust your voice right now.

Caleb let out another sigh, taking a few steps forward. "I'm sorry I screwed up our evening," he breathed out, hand twitching at his side like he wanted to touch you. "But I'm not sorry I told that weirdo to back off."

You paused, desperately trying to swallow back the thousands of angry words trying to spill out.

Stop it.

For a moment, it was silent. Just you trying to hold it together, and Caleb, standing there, waiting for you say something. To snap at him, yell at him, anything.

But you never did.

"Can you at least..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Can you at least look at me? Or say something?"

You licked your lips, the words just on the tip of your tongue.

Reel it in.

He means well.

Slowly, you turned around. You stared at him for a second, thinking of your words carefully before finally opening your mouth.

"I.. I know you mean well, but what you did back there—it didn't feel good. It felt.." you paused, afraid of what this might cause, "humiliating."

A flicker of hurt passed through Caleb's eyes.

Humiliated?

The word rang in his ears, made his jaw clench and his brows pinch together. He humiliated you? Him caring humiliated you?

He couldn't help the small scoff that slipped past his lips. It wasn't mocking. Wasn't angry. Just disbelieving. "So me caring about you was embarrassing?" The hurt crept in unbidden and he hated it, but he couldn't stop it.

"Did you even see the way he was looking at you?" he asked, voice edging on something rougher.

You sighed. "Caleb—"

"He was being disrespectful," he continued. "Basically undressing you with his eyes."

Your breath quickened, your stomach burning with frustration. "And I could've handled it myself."

"How?"

For a second, you hesitated. How would you have handled it? Would you really have said anything? Sure, you could say you would've, but if Caleb hadn't stepped in back there, would you have? Really?

"I would've said something," you responded, the words weak, even to your own ears. And Caleb caught it. The waver in your voice? He didn't miss that—the sound that told him you weren't sure, but still answering just for the sake of argument.

"Right."

Heat rushed through your veins at that single-word. Right. Right, as if it was impossible for you to defend yourself.

"This is the problem," you spat, instantly regretting the bitterness that laced your words, but committing to it anyway.

"What is?"

"This!" you said, exasperated, hands making some incomprehensible gesture between him and yourself. "You don't even let me try to protect myself."

The words felt like a punch to the gut. This? As in him? Something hot and ugly was crawling up his throat. He should've stopped it. In any other circumstance—where he hadn't seen some stranger ogle you like you were some piece of meat—maybe he could've been calmer.

But he had watched some guy ogle you, and now he was the one in the wrong for standing up for you?

"You think I like always being the one to step in?"

Caleb should've shut his mouth right then and there, but the words were already out. He couldn't stop now.

"You think it feels good to always be on edge," he continued, voice rougher than he intended, "wondering if I’m crossing a line or just doing what you won’t?"

The last had more bite than the rest and your breath instantly caught in your throat.

Then, in a fresh wave, it all came back, frustration washing over you.

"You're not listening!" you seethed. "It doesn't matter what I can and can't do! I'm not asking you to play hero!"

Your voice shook with the weight of your emotions. "You choose that on your own, and I keep asking you not to!"

Caleb huffed, shaking his head as he took a small step back. "Okay, so next time I should just watch?"

Your throat closed up, angry tears welling in your eyes.

Not now.

Please not now.

"No, that's not what I'm—" You paused, trying to swallow back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You hated this.

You hated crying out of frustration.

"That's not what I'm saying," you finished, your voice losing the bitter edge it had just seconds ago.

Caleb let out a soft exhale. He caught the slight shake in your voice, the way you'd silently pulled back.

Fuck.

He was being an asshole.

Caleb softened, but for a while, neither of you said anything. You wouldn't even look at him, and that alone was devastating. Caleb hated that he'd done this, that he'd let himself get carried away, trying to prove he was justified rather than listen to you.

His voice came out quieter when he spoke again. "What do I do? I mean, I can't—I can't just watch people do shit to you. But I also can't defend you." He let the words settle before continuing, "So what do I do?"

You ran a shaky hand down your face. "Forget it. Just—" You shook your head, turning on your heel and rushing toward the guest-room, the one that was reserved just for you.

Panic flared in Caleb's chest. "Pips—"

But you were already gone, slamming the door behind you.

Caleb stood in the doorway, his heart pounding in his ears. The apartment was suddenly quiet. Empty.

You always slept in his room when you were over. Even after fights. Even when things got messy.

So he waited up in bed for you.

10 minutes had gone by, and nothing.

15 minutes. Still nothing.

Then 30. And it was becoming painfully clear you weren't coming to bed with him tonight.

He knew he should give you space, so he tried to sleep, but he kept replaying your fight, kept replaying the way the angry set of your brow softened the moment he'd gone too far.

Then he thought about the tears in your eyes—

God, the tears.

He was horrible.

Caleb couldn't stand this. With a heavy breath, he reached toward his nightstand and grabbed his phone, thumbs moving shakily across the keyboard.

Caleb: i messed up.

Caleb: i didn't hear you.

Caleb: i'm sorry.

Caleb: can i still kiss you goodnight?

Meanwhile, you were in bed, cheeks puffy and eyes rimmed red, staring at his texts. You wanted to say yes. Wanted him to come in through the door and fix everything with a little kiss and a few sweet words.

But the fight kept replaying in your head. The bitterness, the almost mocking lilt he couldn't quite hide.

It hurt.

Too much to just let him in again.

You: not tonight.

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #reader insert #lnd caleb #angst #angst with no comfort #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #miscommunication is my fav angst trope #love and deep space angst #caleb angst

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running-with-kn1ves · 1 year ago

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Okay but a darling who tries their hardest to "fix" and train their yandere. They put up with every bloody, obsessive shenanigan in the hopes that they can have a semi-regular relationship with the person they thought they were dating. You see, everything was fine the first month of the honeymoon phase-- regular cute dates and normal presents like bouquets and nicknacks-- even if they were overly frequent. It didn't take long for Yandere's true colors to show, possessiveness chaining Darling to their home and rushes in relationship milestones that normally take years to achieve.

By the third month, Darling has moved into their Yandere's home. Sure, it's fast, but how else are they going to alter a bloodthirsty stalkers' bad habits? But Darling didn't realize how much of a chore it would be to handle their Yan 24/7. Other than the constant reassurances of love and physical affection, they have to talk them down from murdering any coworkers or adding a military-grade security system to the home in an event of Darling trying to escape break up with them.

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

" I love you, there's no one else, how could you accuse me of that!"

Even with Darling complying continuously, wearing the ankle bracelet their Yan begs them to keep on, not leaving (or atleast, not telling Yan when they do) the house without their loving spouse-- Yandere still has paranoid visions, imagining footsteps at night, clothes that belong to them that they think are from another. But Darling is persistent, denying any sort of sneaking around and consoling their Yan in the process. I mean, who could sneak around when all they do is think of and take care of someone else continuously? And even when Yandere gets threatening, drugging takeout that was supposed to be a fun surprise and keeping Darling in the basement for a week, Darling always waits patiently for them to come back to their senses, to negotiate and bribe their way back out when Yan brings meals and requests cuddle time.

Maybe once or twice they've worried about being murdered, but they know their Yandere just loves too much, has too much affection for them to rationally contain. So they see the beast as tameable, talking them down off ledge after ledge, never bolting even with open doors and free feet. But will that be enough to convince their Yandere, to satiate their fear of abandonement and desire to trap before their prey can even think of escaping?

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materia-girl88 · 29 days ago

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Late Night

18+, minors dni

warnings- smut as usual😭 Bucky's stressed and reader wants her man to feel better

this whole thing happened purely bc of this gif. the tank top, the slicked back hair. i can't handle it 😔

You were heading down to the kitchen when you heard a soft swear, Bucky's large frame sitting at the kitchen island.

You leaned against the door frame as you watched him look over some paperwork, knowing he was displeased with what he saw on the pages.

Bucky loved being a congressman, loved trying to make a change to better his home, but it wasn't without difficulties and there were often nights like tonight when you woke up alone to just find him out of bed stressing over work.

You walked up behind him, hands sliding up his tense back to wrap around his chest, your chin coming to rest on his shoulder.

"You're supposed to be in bed with me, Congressman Barnes," you whispered against his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there.

He sighed, his right hand which held a pen falling to the countertop where his paperwork rested.

"I know, doll. I just wanted to look over a couple things I couldn't get my mind off of. I just wanna do well," he said, frustration clear on his face and in his voice.

You wanted to help take the stress away.

"I know, baby. And you are doing well. The people love you, your fellow congressmen respect you. And I happen to think you're the sexiest government official out there," you teased, hands rubbing over the firm muscles under his white tank top he had worn to bed.

He couldn't help but chuckle at that, finally sitting up to turn and look at you, causing you to pull back just a bit before he caught you and pulled you in.

"Well, I'm glad to know I'll always have your vote," he said, leaning in to kiss you.

Even with him sitting on a stool and you standing, he had to lean down a bit to reach you.

You let out a soft hum as you tasted sweetness on his lips and you knew he had broken into the candy stash you both had in one of the drawers, probably needing something to nibble on to keep stress away.

"Let me show you just how much I support you, sir," you teased against his lips, causing him to groan as you fell to your knees.

You encouraged him to stand and lean against the countertop, your hands coming to rest against his large thighs.

Your lips met the line of his waistband, feeling the soft fabric of his pajama bottoms against your chin as you kissed along his abdomen.

"Fuck, doll," he huffed, blue eyes darkening as they met yours. You looked up at him through your lashes as one of your hands traveled to cup him through his sleep pants, feeling him hardening already.

He never was able to resist the sight of you on your knees for him. Especially now that you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties.

"Let me have my fun and maybe you'll get to," you told him, grinning as you began to pull his pants down.

He hadn't worn boxers to bed and his hard cock slipped out of his pants, tip already red just from feeling your hand through his pajamas.

You loved how worked up he always got over you.

You didn't lose eye contact as you licked your right palm, bringing it to wrap around him.

His breath rushed out of him as you began stroking from root to tip, letting your thumb pass over the head when you got there.

"Now focus on your wife and forget about work for just a bit," you told him, voice sultry, before you leaned in and let your lips wrap around the tip of him.

Your eyes closed as you slowly began to bob your head on him, the familiar taste and feel of him in your mouth more than welcome.

Before Bucky, you never really enjoyed going down on men but once the two of you finally became intimate in your relationship, it easily became one of your favorite things.

You loved the weight of him in your mouth and the slight saltiness of the pre-cum that he expelled.

As you continued, his flesh hand came to cup your cheek, thumb moving to trace the line of your lips around him.

He liked holding your hair when the two of you were rough, but when it was slow and intimate like this he loved to stroke your cheek, trace your pretty lips and truly take in what you were doing for him.

Your eyes fluttered at the feeling and your thighs squeezed together, but you ignored it, not ready to pull focus from him yet.

You swallowed around him at one point when he reached the back of your throat and his hips stuttered, his vibranium hand clamping down on the counter.

You giggled around him, the vibrations causing him to swear.

"You're killing me, doll," he panted, head tilting back just a bit.

Your free hand came up, cupping the balls hanging at his base, and you knew before long he would be putty in your hands.

Your thumb came to rub at the seam between them, and he swore, unable to stand the feeling of what you were doing.

"I'm gonna come, baby, fuck," he huffed as he let go.

Your eyes opened, knowing he loved to see them water as you swallowed down his release.

You continued suckling at him gently until he pulled back in overstimulation, licking your lips before smiling at him.

"Feeling better?" you asked.

He gently pulled you to your feet before lifting you to the counter, swiping away his stack of papers and pens, causing you to laugh as he set you on the cool marble.

"Absolutely, doll, but I'm about to feel even better," he rushed out before leaning in to kiss you, hands coming under your shirt to grab at your panties and pull them away.

Needless to say, his work may not have gotten finished that night, but the two of you sure as hell did.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes

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i-starcreamed · 9 months ago

Note

Can I request how Megs would feel if he fought his beloved, reader needs to beat some sense to him and help him from being blinded with hatred. (Tf one plz) Also I want a good ending cuz I'm still sad about the movie. And if it isn't obvious cybertronian reader.

MEGATRON X READER

Obviously Tf One spoilers! God this was so fun to write, I just hope I got their personalities right. I haven't written anything this long in a while !! Also I never knew I'd be so much of a Megatron enjoyer until this movie...yeah, it took me this long.

[ cybertronian! reader Angst and eventually fluff, could be pretty rushed tbh but I just want him to healll. Very NOT canon to the movie

You knew it wasn’t your D-16 the moment his optics changed. Or maybe it was the way he distanced himself from you and your friends in a matter of hours--maybe minutes. It was a subconscious, subtle shift, but one you wished you could have talked him out of.

You suppose you saw the changed D-16 once you made it to the hideout of the High Guard fliers. Your once-kind, responsible lover was gripping Starscream by the neck, his hold tightening with every word from the flier beneath him.

You glanced at Orion, Elita, and Bee, all frozen in horror. You panicked and you stepped forward, placing your servo on his shoulder. Before you could continue, he whirled around, optics burning with a cold, harsh light—practically glaring at you.

“Y/N…“

“D, what the hell are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice steady despite his glare. “This isn’t like you, this isn’t the way, come on.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his optics locked onto Starscream again. He was seething, the flier grinning through the pain wasn't helping your case either.

“Come on, do it! Do it, don’t be a c-coward!” Starscream sputtered through glitching vocal processors, even as D-16’s servo squeezed harder, threatening to crush the life from him.

D-16 narrowed his optics, “I’m not a coward!” He roared as Starscream’s cackling turned into garbled screeches

You attempted to push him away, roughly shoving him by the shoulder. “D, stop it!” He shoved you back. The sudden force sent you stumbling, and when you steadied yourself, you found yourself staring down the barrel of his arm cannon. His orange optics were locked on you, but for a fleeting moment, they softened. It was like he didn't recognize you, but then he hesitated.

“Stay out of my way, from now on.” He said lowly, as if his words pained him. “Please.”

His hesitation vanished as the cannon swung back toward Starscream. You stood there, stunned, until Orion and Elita rushed over to pull you up. Then you just stood and did nothing.

You watched in horror as D-16 continued to declare himself as someone they should follow to victory. Oh, you knew how much he wanted Sentinel dead now. Hell, you did too. But you weren’t sure if this was the right way. You weren’t a bad bot. Neither was D-16, he never was. You had to do something...before things got bad.

You recalled the moment just before he…snapped.

___

“Y/N, don’t you see? He’s been lying this whole time.” “Yes, D. I see, I know. But—“ “I want him dead. I just-I need..I need to see him suffer. Look what he did. To you. To me. To us. We could have been..so much more.” He placed his servo over your spark, right above where your transformation cog was. He used to dream of you two racing together, having fun. Hell, flying even. Back then he didn’t know what he would transform into. “We can still be more, D. We have a bigger purpose now, we were given the ability to transform by a prime himself. We just need to..show everyone the truth. And we will. Then we can—“ “It’s not enough.” He blurted out, pulling you closer as if it was the last time he’d hold you. “You deserve so much better. I promise you, Y/N. I promise you he will pay.”

___

Things only got worse from there. You reached your breaking point when you saw D-16—no, Megatron—vanish Orion himself. You couldn’t believe it. They were like brothers. And now, your beloved had become something else entirely. And yet, you still felt helpless.

You rushed over, avoiding and pushing the other bots as you made your way to where D-16 stood. They all cheered him on as he was trying to lift Sentinel into the air. He was going to kill him. He really was.

“D, stop it! Look what you’ve done!” You shouted, stomping your way forward, frustration boiling inside. You slammed your shaking fist into his shoulder. Primus, you were pissed at him right now.

“Please, please! Tell me what the hell you’re doing. This wasn’t a part of the plan.” You pleaded with him, hoping you’d somehow get him to react. Instead, he inched closer, the same stance you’d expect of someone challenging you. “No, you’re wrong. This was the plan. It was what had to be done. How can I get you to see that.” He visibly calmed for a moment, reaching out a servo to brush against the side of your faceplate. Despite everything, it’s still him. And he loved you.

You hesitated, then stepped back. Oh, how it pained you. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand your goal.” You said, barely above a whisper. Time seemed to freeze, and he slowly lowered his arm. In an instant, you watched his gaze darken.

“Then you’re just in my way.”

Your hopes were revived as Orion, now as Optimus Prime, came back, the matrix of leadership implanted into his chest. Optimus had saved the life of Sentinel (perhaps a little undeserved), knowing there was another way to deal with this. But now he has to save..practically all of Iacon. Maybe just maybe, between the two of you, you can stop Megatron.

The fight between the two friends wasn’t solving anything, you only feared they’d end up killing each other. You got rid of your fear, inserting yourself in the fight just as they managed to gain some distance from eachother. He grunted as you shoved him harder this time, his footing a bit unsteady from his existing injuries.

“What are yo—“

“I told you, stop. This,” you punctuated every word with a shove. “Is. Madness!” You panted, glaring up at your lover. “Come back to me, D. This isn’t the real you. I know it isn’t.” You pleaded, he responded with an irritated grunt.

“I, am Megatron. Not D-16, I am not that bot anymore. Y/N, stand down-“

“No! You stand down! You’re acting foolishly right now! I won't just stand here and watch you destroy yourself and--” You yelled, going straight for him to push him again, but he stopped you with a raise of his cannon. You froze in your tracks.

"Back down, Y/N." He said with a growl. You narrowed your optics, leaning your frame right up against the barrel, hearing a light clink.. The glow illuminated your armor. For a second, you saw his optics widen. He paused, licking his teeth. "I don't want to fight you. But I-"

"But you will if you have to, right? That's what you were going to say? Do it then," Your voice cracked, "I have nothing left to lose."

He huffed, so be it. He lunged towards you, and you raised your arms, blocking the strike. You opened up to move his blaster out of the way, leaving your side open to his incoming fist. It collided with your side, sparks flying from the contact. You grunted, stumbling back. When he came at you again, you caught his arm, pulling him close until you were face to face.

"We're both being foolish right now, are you happy yet? You panted, he grits his teeth.

"Quit saying that!" He growled, shoving you away. He shot his cannon, the blast flying past your side. You slid to avoid it, earning another blast from him. He fired his cannon, but the shot missed. He was aiming wide on purpose. You blinked, you knew his aim wasn't that bad...primus, he really was missing on purpose. If you weren't fighting right now, you'd swoon.

"Are you missing on purpose?" You asked incredulously.

"No! I.. yes..no! Listen to me, Y/N. We can end this now, if you let me do this one thing."

"You've already done enough. D..."

"Don't call me that."

He lunged again, but this time, you sidestepped, charging into him and sending him crashing to the ground, the side of his face hit the ground. You managed to pin him momentarily, struggling to keep him from standing.

"This isn't what you want. Trust me.." You paused. "Megs. Please."

He tensed beneath you, then slightly loosened as you called him 'Megs.'

"This is revenge, it won't help you feel any better. Not long-term. You'll only continue hating and hating, I can't bear to lose you like this. It's...it's tearing us apart." You shuddered, loosening your grip.

Eventually, you felt his breathing slow to a decent pace, slowly, you climbed off him, kneeling beside him. He sighed. "I..I don't know how to stop." He quietly said. You leaned forward, placing a servo against his jaw. "I can help you. I will help you. Megs, you have me with you. You have..Optimus with you. We're all with you."

You both knelt silently for a moment, gathering each other's thoughts. Finally, he had the courage to look up at you. You might never see those big yellow optics of his again, but at least now they weren't so cold. They held some type of sincerity. "I'm..so sorry." He breathed out.

You almost sighed in relief. "You're still angry, and that's okay, alright? Now it's my turn to promise you, we'll deal with this differently. It won't feel fair at first, but it's the right thing to do. Stand up." You gently said, extending your servo out to him. He slowly took your servo, his grip as gentle, almost afraid of breaking you. Primus, how he regrets hurting you. You can see it written all over his face. He was blinded by rage, he was indeed acting foolish. His optics briefly flicked to Sentinel, still on the ground and honestly, grateful to still be in one single piece. He turned away before the anger could return.

"I didn't want to hurt you," He whispered.

You softly scoffed, gently nudging him. This time, without any defensive intent. "You controlled yourself better than I did. I wanted to beat your aft, D-- Megs." You joked, earning a small, bittersweet smile.

You took your servos in his, softly smiling at him. You turned to Optimus, who was just as relieved as you were. "Optimus, do you think Megs and I can help rebuild Iacon? The way it's supposed to be?"

Optimus smiled gently, looking proud. "Of course you can. We all can." He looked at Megatron, his gaze firm but kind. "I am glad to have you back, friend."

Megatron nodded, still tense but..accepting. One day, they'll be as brothers again. You just know it. "As am I." He said, turning to you. His gaze softened. "Y/N...I love you."

"I love you as well, Megs."

#grahhh #i need him so bad #transformers #maccadam #transformers one #transformers x reader #transformers one x reader #d 16 #d16 x reader #transformers d16 #megatron #megatron x reader #megatron transformers #cybertronian reader

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shiny-jr · 2 months ago

Text

from SCARABIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hey! Hey... How y'all doing...? I know it's been nearly two years since I updated this.

Pomefiore | Scarabia | Octavinelle

Jasmine. The scent of freshly ground jasmine tea leaves permeated the air, an attempt to cast a relaxing affect. However, it only had the opposite affect, as you knew enough to determine where the letter might've originated from. A vertical envelope sealed, with no wax seal or string to hold it shut. A perfectly normal envelope but labeled urgent.

Each word seemed so carefully planned, the ink creating coils and lines like woven fabric as if printed. It nearly felt too unnatural, from the formalness that spiraled into quick and rushed writing. After this many letters, you've picked up by now that the neatest ones likely have something to hide, but they likely got tired of hiding it. Pretty penned words and apologies in ink were used to conceal what the writer truly felt.

To the player,

Do not leave Ramshackle dorm tonight.

Mondays you visit Mr. S's Mystery Shop for the essentials. Tuesdays you sneak into the botanical garden. Wednesdays you spend time with Professor Crewel as he stays late to grade exams in the Alchemy Workshop. Thursdays you hide in the Coliseum as Coach Vargas rearranges equipment. Fridays you slip into the back of the library where Professor Trein is reading. Weekends you're either with Headmaster Crowley in the Hall of Mirrors or guarded in Ramshackle.

They know you leave Ramshackle at midnight. I just want to warn you. No one is supposed to be around at midnight. It should have remained a short moment away from the confines of Ramshackle, but, the same people you've been avoiding have heard about your nightly escapades.

I know I'm one of those people you're avoiding. Know that I'm not upset at you. I don't fault you for it. You've known my true nature for a while now, but you could realize that even I'm not twisted enough to stalk you and get your schedule all on my own. All that above? Information I heard. I don't approve of tracking you, not when you deserve to have peace and quiet if you want it. But I don't mind influencing a classmate or two with magic to hear what's going on inside each dorm when they're threatening your brief moments of peace. There's the obvious happenings, and the not so obvious ones.

That being said, you do know that I am willing to do what it takes to protect your space and to advance my standing above the rest. That's something I don't bother to hide around you. So, I'll tell you the happenings. The obvious that others have probably yapped about already... Malleus and his cohorts have taken up the task of guarding Ramshackle, so they know about your trips. Ignihyde is mostly quiet, but Ortho has been talking to Kalim a lot about "fun" plans to involve you in. Pomefiore maintaining their refined image to impress you when I doubt that it's all real.

The Leech twins have been particularly prone to violence recently, and Azul lacks his usual confidence although he tries to hide it. In Savanaclaw there's been multiple brawls because of the tension but Leona seems to be sleeping in more than before. Heartslabyul is as chaotic as ever, but it seems like they feel the most responsible for what happened. I've seen those two first years, Ace and Deuce, try to visit Ramshackle all the time but never get past the gate.

That's not all, but that's all I'll say about that for now.

I'm not trying to bother you, I can promise you that. I managed to put a stop to about ten plans Kalim was ready to set in motion just this week to grab your attention.

You realize what this is by now. I know you do. A warning from me, an attempt to redeem myself. Although "redeem" doesn't seem like a suitable word, because I don't really believe true redemption is possible. Not with what I allowed to happen to you. But I only care about myself, and you. No one else. So I don't care if their plans fail. In fact, I'm glad to tell you this, just so they won't see you.

Don't let them see you. They don't deserve it. None of us do. My advice to you: avoid your usual destinations for about a week or two. After a while, they'll start looking elsewhere. Give me a few more days, I'll start planting false rumors soon to throw them off. Like how you were spotted in the woods behind campus or the sports field. That will get them off your back for a while. If you plan to go to the cafeteria eventually for a meal, take the long way through the back. Hardly anyone goes that way. If you want a home cooked meal, let me know. I'll send something your way if you just ask.

One last warning. You're going to get a letter around the same time you'll get this one you're currently reading. It's an invitation from Kalim. Don't go. He's planning a surprise party with the exact people you're avoiding.

Anything you tell Kalim will eventually be told to others, you should know that. Anything you say to me will be kept a secret I will closely guard. If you want more information or greater details, something to be delivered since I imagine you'll be in Ramshackle for a while, or just desire new company for once... I'm here. Even if you don't want me, I'm here. With just one response from you, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Tell me whatever you wish, and I'll see to it just to be back in your grace.

Awaiting your response.

Best wishes,

Jamil Viper

A chill traveled up your spine as you processed the message you just read. The window was right beside you, so you reached up to pull the string of the blinds, blocking out the sights in fear of someone watching through those very windows.

"Grim, we're going to have to take a rain check on our trip to the cafeteria tonight." Once you dropped the letter, you went window to window, closing and locking each one, pulling down the blinds and readjusting the curtains.

"Aww..." The feline watched in confusion as you moved around to check the locked front and back doors. Normally he would've immediately whined and complained about the canceled trip to the place with food, but he sensed your reemerging paranoia. Following you, his tail swished behind him as he walked on all fours. "What's with you? Was it something in that letter?"

Pulling on the door handle, you were only satisfied when it didn't budge. "Yes."

When you handed him the letter to read, his little paws grasped onto it and he handed you a second open letter that was unfamiliar. Sniffing the jasmine scented letter, Grim pulled away and plopped down with it. "I was reading that other one while you were distracted. It sounds fun and it would be worth going if they weren't crazy obsessed, you know."

Fun?

When you took a closer look at the letter Grim handed you, it was evidence that Jamil had told the truth in this instance.

Even from where you stood, you could make out the shimmer of the torn envelope forgotten in the living room floor feet away from where you stood. Grim has throughly torn through it, the exterior was white with a corner accidentally stained by black ink. The interior of the envelope shined like gold. Was it real gold? Probably not, but at this rate, anything was possible.

The letter was clearly perfumed, and each word was written far more casually than in other letters you had already read. Each word was written in clear black ink, and there seemed to be a doodle marking the end of every paragraph. There was a heart, a smiley face, and a star, just to name a few. Just by a glance, it didn't carry the same heavy content like the others did. There was only one person you could think of who would have written this.

Hi, Player!

You are invited to a celebration in your honor!

That's right. Tomorrow, at the Scarabia dorm, I'll be hosting a party just for you! There's gonna be every type of food you can think of, the best songs to dance to, and invitations have already been sent out. It's gonna be the biggest party this place has ever seen! I even imported some gifts from off campus to give you later. I'm sure you're probably wondering why throw a party after everything that happened, huh?

Well, I had two reasons. One, I wanted to use it as an apology. I'm sorry. I really really mean it. I know I keep saying it with every gift and letter I've sent you. I don't even have a clue if you've read the ones I sent before. I hope you've seen them. Did you at least like the bracelet I sent last time? It's real gold from my homeland!

The second reason was because I just really want to see you. Even if you just come by for a minute, just one dance or have one plate of food, that would be enough. It would make me happy. And maybe it might make you happy too? Jamil said it isn't a good idea, but its worth a shot! And really, we're all miserable without you. I figured that it would be a way to cheer everyone up, not just you and me. Right now, I think everyone could use a bit of festivity to lift their spirits. Especially you, and honestly, me too. Ever since you shut yourself in Ramshackle, everyone's been worried sick.

I hope you're doing better now! Admittedly, I still feel guilty about what happened. Whenever I think too much about it, I get scared when I imagine what you went through and what could've happened. I wish I could turn back time to when you walked into Scarabia and pretended to be someone else. My heart recognized you before my brain did, and I was too happy with you to even realize that the joy I felt in that moment was so familiar. It was familiar because I was with you, and I'm only that happy when I'm hanging out with you! I think about that day a lot, you know. But you didn't tell me it was you for a reason.

You were scared, weren't you? That's why you kept looking around so much back then. At first, I thought it was because you were curious of the dorm, but I was wrong. You weren't scared of me, were you? I hope not. You know I would never ever hurt you, right? Even when you were known as the "imposter," I didn't want to cause you any pain at all. I just wanted to ask: why? Why was this happening? Why had they caused Yuu to break down? Why were they doing it and causing us so much pain?

Because without you, we were hurting. Badly.

I was hurting, and I don't ever remembering feeling a pain like this. It feels worse than any sort of bitter poison or heartbreaking betrayal. I'm so, so, sorry.

I don't want to dwell on the past too much. It hurts to think about. I hope you'll be willing to at least consider forgiving me? It seems like a lot to ask, and I have no idea what you're thinking. I really want to see you, and hanging out again, and forget all this ever happened. But I can't do that, because I have to consider you, your thoughts, your opinion on everything.

Sorry, sorry, I don't want this letter to sound depressing. It's supposed to be an invitation! Everything's gonna be okay, it has to be. Soon, maybe, I'll get to see you again and everything will be right. I won't feel this pain in my chest anymore, once I'm with you. Right now, let me take this chance to just try and explain how much you mean to me... Uh, I never thought I would actually get this opportunity. It doesn't feel real. I don't even know if the right words exist that capture my emotions. Let's see... When I wake up in the mornings, you're the first thing on my mind as the sun comes up. When I fall asleep at night, you're all that's in my dreams as the sun goes down.

People think I'm too hopeful, too naive, when it comes to you. But I'm not! One day, I know we'll be together again, and we'll be happy! I'll get to just live beside you, the real you! That's been my wish ever since I've met you through your vessel, Yuu.

We're already halfway there! You're here, in our world, I've met you, I've spoken to you, I've been so close I literally touched your hand! Yeah, we messed up along the way, but we'll make up for it! All that's left is to earn your forgiveness, and my wish will have come true once you allow me to be next to you again! I'm so so close, and yet you seem so far away. Just out of reach, but I'll get there, don't worry. I'll make up for everything. All you gotta do is guide me. Tell me what you want. Please.

I'll check up on you soon, okay?

See you tomorrow,

Kalim Al-Asim

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst imposter au #i didn't ask to isekaied #we just got a letter wonder who it’s from #jamil viper #yandere jamil viper #twst jamil #kalim al asim #yandere kalim al asim #twst kalim #scarabia

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satorusugurugurl · 10 months ago

Note

jjk men taking care of u in ur third trimester of pregnancy when things get too hard for reader???

JJK Men: When You’re Pregnant

Pairing: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Pregnant!AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: language, pregnancy themes, hormones, insecurities, fluffy!

A/N: This request was so much fun Nonnie! I love me some fluff! (I haven't had kids yet so I'm going off of movies and stuff I've read! 😅 the craving thought 100% mine from my bean I lost) 💚

Nanami Kento:

“Ugh!”

Kento heard the shout of frustration and looked up from his laptop. That sounded like his lovely wife. But it couldn't be because you were supposed to be in bed. With a soft sigh, Nanami followed the disgruntled groans from the nursery, where he found you pacing the room.

You were stunning, your baby bump straining against the fabric of your maternity shirt. A tiny onesie was resting on your bump, and you used it as a makeshift table to fold clothes. You were a stunning, glowing vision of beauty. But you should be resting in bed.

“Love, just what do you think you’re doing up?”

You jumped, dropping the onesie you held in your hands. “Ken!” you sighed, placing a hand on your lower back as the muscles strained. You scared me!” Your husband's eyes widened as you grabbed the crib, spreading your legs slightly to bend down.

“No! Darling, stop!” Nanami quickly rushed in, dropping down to pick up the onesie. You heard the doctor say you need to be resting. What are you even doing in here?”

“I need to prep the nursery.”

The keyword was needed. Not want or desired; need. And it was a word Nanami had come to know very well over the last eight and a half months. Just like you needed sauerkraut and how you needed tart frozen yogurt at two in the morning. This was your hormones and maternal instincts.

“Ah, you're nesting again.”

The nesting started simple: when you were making the nursery, building the crib, and preparing for your daughter's arrival. Not that you were so close; it seemed you were nursing again, even more now. Glancing around the room, Nanami took in the small load of fresh, dried baby clothes he had planned on folding before finding the diapers and wipes on the changing table.

“She’s going to be here soon. I know it, so I need to hurry up and get ready, " you said, feeling out of breath, which is standard these days.

Nanami could see the exhaustion on your face. He said nothing as he gently took your hand and led you to the rocking chair, helping you sit. You have a breath as you ease into it, watching your husband kneel next to you.

“Love, I understand you have this primal need to nest, but you also need to rest, and that’s the doctor's order.”

“But there’s still so much to do.”

His gentle hand reached out, copying your cheek. “And I’m here to help you. I helped make our darling girl, so I fully intend to help you with everything else.” His tongue gently caresses your cheek, sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach.

“Kento.” You whisper as big tears, dreaming down their cheeks, followed by a hiccup. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Now tell me what I can do to help.”

“I want to put all the clothes in the dresser and stock the changing table.”

Nanami wasted no time in precisely what you asked, and once that was done, he looked over his shoulder at you. “What else?”

“I wanted to clean and organize the living room.” Nanami headed to the living room, leaving you with tiny socks. Thirty minutes passed before Nanami came back into the nursery.

“All clean out there; what’s next, Love?”

For the next two hours, your husband helped you with your motherly instinct nest., no matter how minimal or massive the task was, from cleaning the bathrooms to opening all the baby bottles. Nanami never complained or looked like you were asking too much from him. He was so helpful that you felt yourself relax more until you sank back into the bed with a smile, relaxing with the pillows.

Nanami fluffed the pillows for you and covered you with a blanket. His smile was so gentle, and his eyes slowly trailed to your stomach. Seeing him smile so fondly melted your heart.

“Come here.” You tugged on his shirt, padding the spot next to you. Without asking why, your husband kicked off his slippers and hopped in bed beside you. “Thank you for all your hard work today; you put all my nerves at ease.” Gently took his hands and placed them on your baby bump. “The two of us appreciate everything you’ve done.”

There was a furnace in your husband’s eyes as he rubbed your tummy gently before leaning down, pressing a kiss between his hands. “I would do anything and everything for my girls.” Because I love them both very much. Much more than words and actions can describe.” You were about to start crying when you hissed out a wince as your daughter kicked your husband.

“I think that was her telling you she loves you too.” You whispered, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“I love her too.” Honey, brown eyes met yours. “And I love you.”

“I love you too, Kento.” That evening, you lay in bed, the house cleaned to perfection, as you and Kento lovingly waited for your darling little girl to arrive.

Gojo Satoru:

“Damn.” You cursed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You ran your hands down the white and blue floral print maternity dress you wore. People talked a lot about the first and the second trimester: the morning sickness, the cravings, the growing baby bump. But the third trimester had you looking at yourself in a different light. Your body had changed so much while you carried your son; sometimes, you barely recognized yourself, and it did not often make you feel like staying in. “Toru— do we have to go out?”

Your husband suddenly stood by your side, hand held in front of him, and eyed you up and down. “Why? Do you feel alright? Dizzy? Contractions?” You couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but he was eyeing you as if you were going to shatter. “Do I need to call the doctor?”

“No, no, no, okay, baby.” Relief tag at his mouth as he pushed his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

“Oh good, but why are you asking if we must go out? Do you not feel like going out on the date?”

Going on a weekly date has been recommended by your OB/GYN. She pretty much told you to have as much fun as you could for the next nine months because when your little boy came around, alone would be a thing that was scarce for the first few months. So, of course, you made it a point to go out and do something every Saturday morning. Your little dates were so much fun; you’d have breakfast, shop, and maybe watch a movie. But those fun little dates were beginning to make you feel more like a hassle, especially now that you were nine months pregnant and felt like the size of the house.

Every time you leave the house, the hospital bag must be loaded with you. It took you forever to put on your shoes, and every time your son decided to play kickball with your bladder, you were waddling off to the nearest restroom. Saturday morning dates were less fun, and you felt like they were more of a chore for your husband.

“I want to go, but—” you said out loud, your hands rubbing your baby bump. “I’m having a hard time putting on my shoes.”

“Oh, well, that’s a simple fix!” Your boyfriend has led you to the kitchen, where he pulled out a chair padding the cushion. “Mi, you love cheesy, my Cinderella.” He lifted your sandals, slowly slipping one on before he turned your other foot and slipped the other shoe on. Now we head to our carriage and find the finest breakfast restaurant in Tokyo.”

And you weren’t sure what it was. It could’ve been him calling you his Cinderella, or the fact your shoes were fitting a little too tight nowadays, or maybe it was the fact he was taking you to breakfast, which was something you had been craving all day yesterday. Or it could just be the damn hormones. Satoru blinked, looking up at you, and you didn’t bother to answer his question, and when he met your eyes, he was a mess with a blubbery, teary face.

“Baby? Oh sweetie, what’s wrong?” His concern only made you cry harder. “Sweetheart!”

You wiped your eyes, but no matter how hard you tried to stop, the tears ran down your flushed cheeks. “I—” hic, “I’m sorry—I just feel bad!” The chair beside you scraped against the floor, and when you could look through blurry eyes, you found Satoru sitting right in front of you, gently holding your hands. “I’m not a burden anymore. Always needing more time, I slow down is just, ugh, I’m sorry!” Satoru sat back, nose wrinkling at your words.

“Baby, what are you talking about? You’re not a burden.”

“I-I take too long to walk. You have to put my shoes on, and I constantly have to pee!”

“Sweetpea! Honey, I don’t care if I have to put your shoes on, and I’ll wait for you as long as you need me to. Plus, I hold your bags when you go to the bathroom. I don’t mind doing all those things and one million more because you’re carrying our child. You’ve been through so much: the cravings, hormones, and changes to your body. You truly are incredible.”

Satoru held his breath, watching as tears streamed down your pretty cheeks. “You don’t mind waiting for me? Even though I look like a walking house?”

“Okay, no.” Your husband’s hands flew up, copying both sides of your face. “You are not the size of the house. You’re beautiful, and I love your body. I’m not sure what kind of guy cares about shit like that. But I would love you no matter what. Whether you gain or lose weight, I love you for you.” His thumbs brushed away your tears. “You might not see it, but you are stunning.”

You sniffed, relaxing, leading into his touch. “Really?” Hesitantly, the tears finally stopped.

“Yes! My goddess, you are a radiant vision, sunshine, and human form. And you are a perfect vision.” Satoru’s continue to caress your flushed cheeks. “If I’m being honest, I love our dates on Saturday mornings because I get to be seen next to a beautiful woman like you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I think you’re confused because I feel like that with you.”

“Is that so?” Smiling as he dropped his hands to your tummy, caressing it lovingly. “Looks like our kid locked out. He’s got two hot parents.” The teasing in his eyes faded. “And he’s going to have the best mommy in the world.”

“And the best, Daddy, " you added, placing your hands on top of his.

“And he’ll be loved immensely.” Satoru pressed against your tummy before kissing your hands. “So what do you want to do, sweetheart? Do you want to go out, or would you prefer to stay in?”

“Well, seeing as you went through the trouble of putting my shoes on for me, let’s go on our date.”

Satoru fist pumps the air before placing his hand on your lower back to help steady you. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll take you to eat wherever you want.” You enter your fingers as you slowly head out of the house towards the car.

“Seeing that it’s your son, he wants French toast.”

“Yep, there’s no denying he’s mine!” Proudly announced as he squeezed your hand tightly.

Geto Suguru:

“Ow, ow, ow!” You paste around the kitchen, hands on your hips, trying to focus on anything other than the ache in your back.

Upon hearing your cries of pain, your boyfriend is around the corner, slipping on the hardwood floor. “What?! Are you okay? Is she okay?” Suguru grabbed your waist, surveying you for any injuries.

“No, we’re both okay.” Suguru visibly relaxed at your words, dropping his head slightly as he tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

“Then why were you saying ow?”

The muscles in your back, your boyfriends, they seized up, screaming in pain. “Nngh!” Your teeth together, grabbing Suguru’s wrist and squeezing as your back twitched and strained. “I-It’s just my back; our little bean isn’t so little anymore.” There was nothing but pure sympathy on your boyfriend’s face as he watched your face contort with pain.

“Oh baby,” he sighed slowly, stepping behind you. “Let me help you.”

You weren’t sure if a massage would be the best thing to do right now. Every nerve in your back was burning with red-hot pain. Laying down in bed didn’t help, and sitting on the couch made it even worse; walking around was the only thing that seemed to alleviate some of the pain.

The thoughts of his thumbs rubbing into the muscles driving you mad had you squirming out of his reach. But due to the nine-month pregnant belly, you were sporting, you weren’t able to move as fast as you had been before. Your attempted move away was futile as Suguru grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you back into his chest.

“Suguru, please don’t give me a massage right now. My back is killing me, and I feel like if you touch it, it’s going to make it worse.”

“Shh, I got you.”

You shut your eyes, waiting For the inevitable pain, as he trailed his hands down the side of your arms before sliding down over your tummy. His hands never ventured back up to your shoulders. Instead, they slid further down underneath the baby bump, resting there for a second. Realizing your back wasn’t in danger, you opened your eyes, glancing down at your tummy as dark strands of hair fell over your shoulder, hair that belonged to Suguru.

“What are—” Without giving you a chance to finish your words, Suguru gently lifted your baby bump slightly, allowing him to hold your daughter's weight, giving your back some much-needed rest. “Oooh~” the relief Washed over you like waves at the beach, “Oh, that feels so good.”

“Yeah, I’m so glad to hear that.” His thumbs brushed over a little sliver of skin as your shirt scrunched up over your tummy. “I saw this little trick online.”

You could feel the pressure being relieved from your muscles, back, and hips. Ten pounds lighter, you felt like you could finally relax with that weight your boyfriend was holding. With a happy sigh, you leaned further against his back. It felt so good.

“You are so amazing. Carrying our baby, thank you.” Soft lips gently trailed over your cheek, running over your jawline as your boyfriend held your daughter's weight off your body. “I’m so thankful for everything you’re doing for us.”

“You're welcome.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against his lips. “Thank you for being so kind and patient with me.” Your daughter stretched out, leaving you wincing again.

“I just wish there was more I could do for you.”

His words left you feeling baffled. “Suguru, you’ve already done so much. You baby-proofed the house, you put together the crib, which was a nightmare.”

“At least it wasn’t from IKEA.”

“You also go out of your way to get me anything I crave. No matter how gross it is.”

“I don't know. Your last request for hotdogs and cold cream of mushroom soup nearly took me out.”

You moaned in delight at the mention of your late-night snack from a week ago. “It was so tasty! But the point is you do a lot for me, even now,” you whispered, motioning your head towards his hands. “This is everything I had been needing tonight.” Suguru fondly smiled at you, pressing another kiss against your cheek before he began rubbing circles over your stomach.

“This is all you need, Princess?”

“Mhmm~ you, the girls, and our baby.”

“You’re sure? You would let me know if there was anything else I could do for you, right?”

You nodded your head, inhaling the earthy, minty scent that belonged to the father of your child. “I would, but I’m happily content with right here and now.” Suguru felt his smile widen as he gently began easing your bump down so he could properly turn you around to kiss you. But that was his first mistake. A rumbling growl sounded from you, and your eyes shot up toward him in the dark, warning rage.

“Don't you even think about moving your hands.”

“Oh,” He seized up at the apparent anger in your voice. “Right, sorry, baby.” As he continued to hold the baby bump up for you, he could feel the rage leaving your body as he relaxed back against him. Suguru felt like he wasn’t doing enough, but he could tell by the gentle smile that graced your pretty face that he was doing everything he needed for you at that moment. And he didn’t care how he would be standing in the kitchen holding the weight up for you as long as you both were together and happy to do whatever you needed.

Choso Kamo:

Your husband had gone missing, and you weren’t sure where he ran off. One second, he told you that he was heading outside to meet his brother for something, and the next second had turned into two, which turned into an hour, and you were beginning to wonder where exactly he was or what he had gotten himself into. Usually, this sort of thing wouldn’t have bothered you; he was always running off to do stuff with his brothers. But your little one, due any day now, was feeling restless.

They were kicking and punching you in the ribs and bladder, and the typical tricks you use to soothe the little to relax are turning out to be useless. The only thing that seemed to calm them down nowadays was Choso’s voice. He did not even need to do much; as long as he was in the vicinity for your baby to hear, they relaxed almost instantly.

You hated to interrupt his bonding time with his brother, but at the same time, he would like to sit on the couch without feeling the urge to pee, so you just went to the bathroom. The need to sleep and relax somehow fueled you to push yourself out of the recliner and begin waddling around the house in search of Choso or Yuuji.

The last time you saw them, they were heading out to the garage to talk about anything and everything, from Yuuji’s schooling to everything that still needed to be done for the baby's arrival. But all of that can wait for now; right now, you need the comfort of his voice.

Heading out to the garage side, rubbing your tummy as your precious baby shifted again, pulling out a sound of discomfort from you. You couldn’t wait for them to be born so you could hold them, and you were eager for them to stop playing Twister with the inside of your uterus. Just a couple of weeks were left, but Choso was your secret weapon in the meantime.

“Cho?” you asked, looking around the garage. “Babe?”

The car was in the driveway. Both doors to the backseat were left open. For a minute, you felt your heart rate spike because you didn’t find Choso nearby, but before you could panic over what may have happened, a flash of pink hair popped out from the car.

“I don’t think that’s right, Choso.”

“I know, it's just—” Your fiancé got out of the car, scratching the back of his head in apparent annoyance. “How do people do this?”

“I’m as clueless as you are. Maybe I should call Megumi; he’s smart. I bet he could figure it out.”

Choso gently slammed his head repeatedly against the side of the car with a sigh. “This should not be this hard.” You stood off to the side out of sight, and your restless son started to set up the sound of his father’s voice. “We need to figure this out, Yuuji.”

“Why don't we just ask Sis?” Yuuji question referring to you. “She has friends with babies, but doesn’t she have nieces and nephews, too? She would probably know how to put in a car seat.“

Oh, so that’s what they were doing out here. Poor boys had probably been struggling to put it in this whole time. Well, luckily for them, you know how to put in a car seat.

Before you could begin treading down the driveway to help them, Choso shot up, looking at his little brother from across the car. Dark strands of hair bounced as he shook his head. “No, we’re going to figure this out.” you and Yuuji eyed Choso with confused looks.

“Why not Cho?”

“Because she needs all the rest she can get. She hasn’t been sleeping well, but I can do this. I want her to rest. I want to help out with things like this. It’s at least I can do.” the fondest smile plastered his mouth. “Since she’s carrying our baby.”

“Oh, Choso,” you whispered, fighting my tears. He’s been so sweet and attentive during the pregnancy, but he’s been putting in all the effort for the last few weeks. He was cooking, cleaning, taking care of you, packing the hospital bag himself, and, on top of all that, cooking all the meals, making sure he was tending to everything for you. Not a day passed that you didn’t receive a foot or back massage. Was it even possible to fall deeper in love with a man you would spend the rest of your life with?

Yes, it was.

Although the tears were blurring your vision, you could see the understanding on the younger boy's face. “I guess that makes sense.” Yuuji stretched his arms above his head. “But can we please call Megumi?” your fiancé nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that's fine.”

Seeing that they both had it under control, you quietly snuck back into the house and relaxed on the couch. Another thirty minutes passed before Choso came back inside. He had a wide smile on his face as he sat down on the couch next to you, pressing a kiss against your lips before kissing your tummy.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi,” Choso rested his head on your stomach, his eyes shutting as he felt your son move. “We got the car seat set up. So we’ll be all set for when the day comes.”

Your fingers toyed with his hair, brushing his dark strands back. “Yeah? Thanks for doing that; it wasn't too difficult, was it?” He turned his head slightly to look up at your face.

“Nope!”

“Good,” you looked back towards the garage, “did Yuuji leave?”

“He went to pick us dinner with Megumi; they should be back soon.”

A comfortable silence grew between you as you ran your hands further down his back. “Cho, thank you for taking such good care of us. And thanks for all your hard work.” Choso’s arms snaked around you, holding you as he shook his head.

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“Me?”

“For making me the happiest man in the world, for making me a father, for being my future wife.” His eyes were so warm and full of adoration, “You complete me. So yes, thank you, I love you.”

You couldn't help but grin as you watched him close his eyes. ”I love you too, Choso; we both do.” His smile was contagious as you found yourself following his lead, drifting off to sleep. It was the kind of sleep that was hard and peaceful because you knew you and your son were safe with Choso.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

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levanterhaze · 2 months ago

Text

── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡ ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader dirty talk, unprotected sex, smut in general and a little angst.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[9.1k words ]♡― guys, we're on the penultimate chapter of gameboy, and it's been such an unbelievable experience. thank you so much for sharing your reactions to each chapter with me, it really means a lot. this chapter was so fun to write, maybe it won't be as much fun for those who will read it, but... it's the feeling that counts, right? PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two] ♡ [part three] ♡ [part four] ♡ [part five] ♡ [part six]

But if I'm all dressed up They might as well be looking at us And if they call me a slut You know it might be worth it for once And if I'm gonna be drunk Might as well be drunk in love

The silence stretched painfully, the weight of everyone's unspoken thoughts pressing down on you. It wasn’t just anyone standing at the door with a suitcase in hand—it was Mingyu. And he was here because Eunji had invited him.

You forced yourself to move, blinking away your initial shock and forcing a polite smile onto your face. “Hey, you’re here!” you said, reaching for his bag.

Mingyu grinned, his usual confidence radiating from him. “Eunji said it was supposed to be a surprise. Thought it’d be fun.”

Fun. Right.

You swallowed the urge to glance back at Bangchan—because you could feel his stare. Even without looking, you knew he was watching, arms crossed, probably chewing on the inside of his cheek the way he did when he was trying not to react.

And then, as if the moment wasn’t already unbearable, Mingyu leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You stiffened, feeling every single pair of eyes in the room on you. Heat rushed to your face, and this time, you did glance toward Bangchan.

He was still standing near the stairs, but something had changed. His jaw was locked tight, his arms tense, his fingers curling slightly like he was resisting the urge to do something—say something. But he didn’t. He just watched, his expression unreadable.

You huffed out a laugh, forcing a scowl as you lightly shoved Mingyu away. “Okay, okay, chill. Let’s get your stuff inside before Changbin kicks you out.”

You turned on your heel, leading Mingyu upstairs before anything else could happen, before Bangchan’s stare could burn a hole through your back.

Inside the bedroom, you dropped Mingyu’s suitcase near the bed, letting out a slow, measured breath. When you turned around, you found him watching you, arms folded.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “You don’t seem… I don’t know. Did you not like the surprise?”

You hesitated. “It’s not that.” You rubbed the back of your neck, suddenly feeling exhausted. “It’s just… this is Changbin’s house, and I didn’t know if this was the right time, you know?”

Mingyu studied you for a beat before nodding. “Yeah, I get it.”

You weren’t sure if he actually got it, but at least he wasn’t pushing.

Later, when you finally got a moment alone with Eunji, you wasted no time.

“What the hell were you thinking, Eunji?” you hissed, arms crossed as you cornered her in the hallway.

Eunji blinked at you like you’d lost your mind. “Excuse me?”

“You invited Mingyu on a trip with all of our friends? To Changbin’s house? You know they don’t get along!”

Eunji’s frown deepened. “I was trying to help,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know things have been weird between you two, and I thought maybe if you spent more time together, you’d figure things out.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You thought?”

She crossed her arms, mirroring your stance. “Look, you are seeing him, aren’t you?”

Your stomach twisted. The words caught in your throat, tangled in something unspoken, something messy.

Eunji’s expression hardened. “Right. That’s what I thought.” She let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t get you. I was trying to do something nice for my best friend, but apparently, that’s a crime.”

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to rein in your emotions. “Eunji, I just… I wish you had talked to me first.”

She shrugged, clearly still annoyed, but at least the conversation was over. For now.

A while later, when everyone headed to the beach, you had just stepped onto the warm sand when you felt a hand wrap around yours.

Mingyu.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to see the easy smile on his face as he pulled you along, guiding you toward the others.

And then, instinctively, you glanced back.

Bangchan stood a few steps behind, watching. The sun cast long shadows across his face, his expression carefully neutral—but you knew him too well. The tightness in his shoulders, the stillness of his stance—it wasn’t neutrality. It was restraint.

For a brief second, you wanted to stop, wanted to go back. But then Mingyu’s grip tightened slightly, his warmth grounding you in place.

And so, with no real choice, you let yourself be led forward, even as Bangchan’s stare burned into your back.

The afternoon at the beach was nothing short of perfect—or at least, it should have been. The sun was warm but not unbearable, a light breeze carried the scent of salt through the air, and laughter echoed from all sides. Everyone was either sprawled on the sand or engaged in whatever activity caught their interest.

At some point, you and the girls had set up a makeshift picnic, putting together sandwiches and slicing up fresh fruit. It was simple but refreshing, and for a little while, you let yourself enjoy it—until he caught your eye.

Bangchan.

Wearing his cap backward, his hair slightly damp with sweat, and a fitted t-shirt that clung to his torso like it had been sewn onto his skin. It was criminal. Your imagination was already running wild, and the last thing you needed was a reminder of just how good he looked.

But, of course, he wasn’t just going to exist in your peripheral vision. He was right there, playing soccer with the guys, muscles flexing with every movement. Every now and then, his gaze would flicker toward you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips whenever he caught you looking. And God, you hated how much you liked it.

So, in an effort to not combust on the spot, you focused on volleyball instead. You, Mingyu, and the girls played a few rounds, the game getting more competitive as time passed. The moment your team scored, a triumphant laugh left your lips—only to be cut off when Mingyu grabbed you and spun you around in celebration.

Your heart jumped. “Mingyu, put me down!” you laughed, holding onto his shoulders, afraid he’d actually drop you.

He only grinned. “Not a chance. Gotta celebrate properly!”

You could feel eyes on you—his eyes. A quick glance told you everything. Bangchan was not entertained. His expression was impassive, but you knew better. His jaw was tight, his grip on his water bottle firm. He was seething, and that realization sent a strange mix of emotions through you.

After eating, the group made their way to the water. The cold waves were a sharp contrast to the heat of the day, but the shock quickly turned into fun. You and Felix splashed each other relentlessly, your laughter filling the air. Minho had Sohee on his shoulders while Bangchan had Eunji on his, the two girls playing an intense round of chicken fight, their screams and giggles echoing across the shore.

Jisung eventually joined you and Felix, challenging you both to see who could dive under the waves the longest. It was the perfect distraction—until you drifted just a little too far from the others.

For a moment, you simply stood there, water up to your waist, watching your friends. They were all having fun, caught up in the easy joy of the moment. And yet, all you could think about was the growing weight in your chest.

What was this mess you’d gotten yourself into?

A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You okay?”

You turned your head to find Hyunjin beside you, his expression calm but observant. He always had a way of reading you too well.

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came. Because, truthfully? You didn’t know if you were okay.

This trip was supposed to be fun, carefree. Instead, it felt suffocating. The tension between you and Bangchan, Mingyu’s presence, Eunji’s meddling—it was all too much.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above the waves crashing around you.

Hyunjin nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah… I figured.”

He didn’t push for more. He just stood there, his presence a quiet comfort as the waves rolled in and out.

You sighed, rubbing your arms against the chill of the water. “This was supposed to be a fun trip,” you muttered, watching the others laughing and playing without a care in the world.

“It can still be fun.” Hyunjin tilted his head, studying you. “Unless you’re planning on spending the rest of the weekend overthinking yourself into an early grave.”

You shot him a look. “You’re so wise. Really, I don’t know what I’d do without your groundbreaking advice.”

He grinned. “I am a genius. But seriously,” his voice dropped a little, more sincere, “if it’s about Mingyu… or Bangchan…”

Your breath hitched. You didn’t want to hear his name out loud. Not when you could still feel the weight of his stare from earlier, burning through your skin as Mingyu spun you around like some rom-com lead.

Hyunjin saw the flicker of hesitation on your face. “Ah.” He dragged out the syllable knowingly. “It is about Bangchan.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, splashing water at him.

He laughed, dodging it easily. “No, but seriously. You’ve been sneaking glances at each other all day like you’re in some k-drama, and I—”

“Hyunjin,” you warned.

“I’m just saying—”

Before he could finish, a wave crashed against you, nearly knocking you forward. You reached for something—anything—to steady yourself, but all you grabbed was air.

A firm hand caught your wrist before you could stumble further. But it wasn’t Hyunjin’s.

It was Bangchan’s.

You blinked, water dripping down your face as you looked up at him. His expression was unreadable, but his grip was steady, firm. His touch sent a rush of warmth through your arm despite the cold water.

“You okay?” His voice was low, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to hear.

You swallowed. Nodded. “Yeah. Just lost my balance.”

His gaze flickered over you, like he wasn’t convinced. Like he knew it wasn’t just the wave that had thrown you off.

But before either of you could say another word, another hand wrapped around your other wrist.

Mingyu.

“Hey, you alright?” He pulled you toward him, the contrast between his casual concern and Bangchan’s quiet intensity almost jarring.

You felt Bangchan’s grip tighten for just a second before he let go, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to notice before he turned and waded back into the water without another word.

You exhaled slowly, turning to Mingyu, who was watching you expectantly. You forced a small smile. “Yeah. Just clumsy, as always.”

He chuckled, brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. “Come on, let’s head back before you get actually swallowed by the ocean.”

You followed him, but not before glancing over your shoulder.

Bangchan was further out in the water now, the setting sun casting an orange glow over his back. He wasn’t looking at you anymore. But something in his posture, in the way his shoulders were tense and his fists curled at his sides, told you everything you needed to know.

This weekend was only going to get more complicated.

The sun had started its slow descent, dipping into the horizon and setting the sky on fire with shades of orange, pink, and gold. Most of the group had already started heading back to the house, tired from the hours spent in the water and under the sun. Laughter and chatter faded as they disappeared over the dunes, leaving behind only the sound of the waves and the distant calls of seagulls.

Changbin, still lingering on the sand, stretched his arms over his head with a lazy grin before nudging Bangchan with his shoulder. “You know, everyone's going back inside. Everyone.” He emphasized, giving a not-so-subtle glance in your direction.

Bangchan shot him a dry look. “And?”

“And,” Changbin clapped him on the back, voice dropping to a low murmur, “I’m giving you an opening. Don’t be dumb about it.”

Bangchan hesitated, but before he could reply, Changbin was already walking away, throwing a careless, “Take your time,” over his shoulder.

You were still standing near the water, toes buried in the damp sand, watching the sun slip lower. You knew Bangchan was behind you, and could feel his presence even before he stepped closer.

“You’re not going inside?” His voice was softer now, almost cautious.

You turned your head slightly, offering him a small, teasing smirk. “Didn’t know I needed permission.”

He huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head before stepping beside you. For a moment, you both just stood there, side by side, watching the waves roll in and out.

Then he shifted. “Walk with me?”

You glanced at him, eyebrows slightly raised, but nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

The sand was cool under your feet as you walked along the shore. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—if anything, it felt charged, full of words that hadn’t yet been spoken. The sky darkened little by little, the air cooling, but Bangchan’s presence beside you was warm, grounding.

Eventually, he spoke. “I didn’t like it.”

You blinked, looking at him. “Didn’t like what?”

His jaw tensed, and he kept his gaze ahead. “Watching you with him today.”

Your stomach flipped. You knew exactly who he meant.

“You’re not watching me with anyone,” you murmured, stopping. The waves curled around your ankles before retreating again.

The night air was warm, the kind that clung to your skin, mixing with the salty breeze from the ocean. You and Bangchan walked along the shore, side by side, feet sinking into the cool sand with each step. The only sounds were the waves rolling in and the distant laughter of your friends back at the house.

For once, it was peaceful. No stolen glances, no tension hanging between you like a thread about to snap. Just the two of you, alone in the dark, under a sky scattered with stars.

You took a breath, the weight of something unspoken pressing against your ribs. "I’m sorry about the whole Eunji thing," you admitted, breaking the quiet. "I didn’t know she was gonna invite Mingyu. I swear, I would’ve stopped it if I did.”

Bangchan glanced at you, his expression unreadable. You didn’t know what you expected—maybe a sarcastic remark, maybe nothing at all. Instead, he just kept looking at you, his steps slowing slightly.

“I didn’t want to ruin things,” you added, kicking at a loose shell in the sand. “I mean, this trip was supposed to be fun. And now it’s just... complicated.”

Bangchan huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Complicated’s an understatement.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah. But I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

That’s when it hit him.

It wasn’t just about the secrecy, or the tension, or the mess they’d both gotten into. You cared. About what he felt, about how this whole situation affected him. You weren’t just thinking about yourself—you were thinking about him.

And that was dangerous. Because if he hadn’t already known he was in deep, he did now.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just stared at you—at the way your brows pulled together, the way your arms crossed like you were trying to shield yourself from something bigger than just this conversation.

It was stupid, really. He wasn’t supposed to fall for you.

But looking at you now, Bangchan realized he already had.

And then, as if something in him snapped, he reached for you.

His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you against him in one fluid motion. His lips crashed against yours—urgent, desperate, real. You gasped against his mouth, your hands flying to his shoulders, his neck, needing something to hold onto as heat rushed through your body.

It was all-consuming—the way he kissed you, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into it. His fingers trailed down your spine, igniting every nerve, pulling you in closer, deeper. The cool air, the sound of the ocean, the distant voices from the house—it all melted away until there was only him.

Bangchan exhaled deeply, shifting slightly so he could look at you. His fingers brushed against your cheek, trailing down your jaw, his touch soft, reverent.

Then he let out a low, frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Oh, fuck it,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I’m screwed anyway.”

You blinked, tilting your head to look at him. “What?”

He turned to you then, eyes dark, serious, and maybe just a little resigned—like a man walking straight into a wildfire with no intention of turning back.

“I like you,” he admitted, voice rough, like the words were dragged straight from his chest. “Like, really like you. And I know it’s a bad idea, I know this is gonna be a mess, but I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Your breath caught, fingers stilling against his skin.

Bangchan scoffed lightly, shaking his head as if at himself. “You’re probably gonna wreck me.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest, something terrifying and thrilling all at once. You swallowed, your own voice quieter when you spoke.

“Maybe,” you murmured, a teasing lilt in your tone despite the way your heart pounded. “But you’re saying you’re okay with that?”

He exhaled, slow and deep, like he was making peace with it right in front of you. Then, finally, he looked at you again—really looked at you.

“Yeah,” he said, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. “I think I am.”

And just like that, his lips found yours again—slow and deep, like he’d already made his choice.

A loud noise from the house made you both jolt apart. You turned, frowning.

“What the hell was that?”

Bangchan barely spared a glance. “Dunno. Sounds like they’re having fun.” Then, with that infuriating smirk, he added, “We could do the same.”

Before you could roll your eyes, he grabbed your hand and led you toward a more secluded part of the beach, where the rocks and thick vegetation made sure no one could see. Oh, you knew that smile—knew exactly what was running through his head.

“Hate to break it to you, but hooking up on a beach isn’t exactly on my bucket list.” You shot him a look as he peeled off his shirt and tossed it onto the dry sand like he was making himself at home.

“It’s on mine.” His voice was all gravel and heat. “And I need you. So much.”

Your breath hitched as he pressed close, caging you between his body and the rough stone. The cool touch of it sent shivers up your spine, but the heat radiating off him? That was an entirely different kind of problem.

“Chan, I don’t know if we should—” The words barely left your lips before he dipped down, mouth hovering just over yours, teasing, tasting the space between you. His lips ghosted along your jaw, slow and deliberate.

“Bangchan…” It came out softer than you intended, almost like a prayer.

He groaned, his hands tightening on your waist, the frustration evident in the way his fingers flexed against your skin. You could feel the tension coiling between you, thick and electric, like a live wire about to snap.

“Fuck, you drive me insane.” His voice was ragged, half a confession, half a plea.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself against his shoulder because—let’s be real—your legs had officially decided they were useless. It was ridiculous how he could reduce you to this—how his touch alone could make you feel weightless and wired all at once.

Two nocturnal creatures, drawn together by something dark and undeniable.

And neither of you seemed willing to stop.

Bangchan let out a low, frustrated grunt, his hands gripping your waist like he was barely holding himself back. The tension between you was thick, electric, making it impossible to think about anything other than how good he felt pressed against you.

“No one will hear,” he murmured, lips brushing yours, voice dark with promise. “I’ll make you feel so fucking good. Then we’ll go back, and everyone will look at you, clueless—having no idea I just ruined you.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his teeth grazed your earlobe, each word sinking deep into your skin, into your bloodstream, until you felt drunk off of him.

Jesus Christ. The things this man said.

You barely managed to roll your eyes before his mouth was on your neck, finding that one spot that made you weak—hot and deliberate, his tongue tracing your pulse like he had every intention of ruining you.

And you were already halfway there.

Bangchan’s hips rolled into yours, slowly, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your core. He grunted at the contact, his grip on your waist tightening. “You like that?” His voice was thick, heavy with need. Another grind, deeper this time. “You like knowing I’m fucking you where no one can see?”

You bit down on your lip, barely holding back a whimper. He was barely touching you, yet the heat in your stomach was already unbearable, like standing too close to an open flame. He always did this—knew exactly how to pull you apart with nothing but his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were something he was starving for.

“I want you,” you breathed, fingers threading into his dark hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

His head dipped, lips grazing your jaw before trailing down your neck, hot and teasing. “Yeah?” His fingers traced the curve of your mouth, his thumb pressing lightly against your bottom lip. “Want me?”

You nodded quickly, too caught up in the sensation to find your voice.

But that wasn’t enough for him. “Say it, baby” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours, not quite kissing you yet.

“I want you so much,” you whispered, and it came out so desperate, so wrecked, you almost hated yourself for it.

Almost. Because Bangchan cursed under his breath, and then—he snapped.

His hands skimmed up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher, fingers deft as he tugged at the edge of your bikini. The flimsy material barely resisted before giving way, and the cool night air sent a shiver down your spine. He worked fast, precise, stealing the breath from your lungs with the sheer confidence in his movements.

Before you could process it, you were against him, legs wrapped around his waist, hands gripping his shoulders as he thrust inside you.

The world dimmed. The rhythmic crash of waves, the distant hum of cicadas, even the muffled sounds of your friends back at the house—all of it faded into nothing. There was only him.

Forehead pressed against yours, Bangchan exhaled, a slow, uneven breath, his fingers tracing your cheek with an almost painful gentleness. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, as if committing every detail of this moment to memory.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough at the edges. His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing over your parted lips, and you felt the weight of his gaze like an anchor, grounding you.

The heat between you built, an unspoken urgency crackling in the space you barely left between your bodies. You clung to him, every inhale shaky, every exhale stolen by the way he moved—calculated, controlled, like he wanted to untwist you piece by piece.

Your fingers curled into his hair, a desperate attempt to tether yourself, but it was useless. You were already lost in him.

“Hold on tight, love,” he whispered, his lips grazing yours in a kiss that swallowed the sound of your own gasps.

And when he kissed you again—deep, consuming, like he was learning the taste of your name—you knew there was no coming back from this.

You were completely lost in the rhythm—offbeat, breathless, but it didn’t matter. The chaos of it was intoxicating, each movement sending fire through your veins, a spark that ignited from the tips of your toes to the roots of your hair. Heat clung to your skin, beads of sweat tracing paths down your temples, mingling with the dampness on Bangchan’s back. You tightened your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close, giving him access to that one spot that broke you completely.

A sound—half moan, half plea—slipped from your lips, and Bangchan groaned in response, the sound of it sinking into your bones. Your body tensed, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, and then—release. It crashed over you in waves, pulling him under with you, his body shuddering against yours as he buried himself in the moment.

His breath was ragged, chest rising and falling in time with yours as he leaned back against the rocks, keeping you wrapped in his arms like he had no plans of letting go.

You felt it before you saw it—the slow, satisfied smile against your shoulder, followed by the softest press of his lips against your skin.

“You good?” Bangchan murmured, his hands cradling your face, pushing damp strands of hair out of your eyes.

You nodded, still breathless, brain short-circuiting.

He huffed a soft laugh, thumb brushing over your cheek. “Guess this could’ve been a little more romantic, huh? Not exactly candlelight and rose petals.”

You smirked, fingers trailing along his jaw. “Shut up. It was perfect.” Then, pressing up on your toes, you kissed him—slow, sweet, like you had all the time in the world.

But just as he started to pull you in again, fat raindrops splattered against your skin.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned, looking up just as the sky fully opened up.

Bangchan just grinned. “Well, that’s our cue.” He grabbed your hand, tugging you along as you both bolted across the beach.

The rain hit fast and hard, soaking through your clothes in seconds. You shrieked at the icy water, laughing as you tried to keep up with him. But he never let go, his grip steady and warm, like he had no intention of ever letting go. And somehow, that made your chest ache more than anything else.

The second you stepped inside, you realized everyone was off in their own worlds—doors shut, showers running, no one paying attention. Bangchan’s palm brushed over yours in a fleeting touch before letting you go, his warmth lingering even as you climbed the stairs.

Meanwhile, Changbin strolled out from the living room, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face.

“Well, well, my favorite lovebirds—everything good?”

Bangchan barely contained a laugh, shaking his head. Changbin was impossible. And way too observant for his own good.

All he got in response was a shrug and half a smile, but it was enough. Changbin read between the lines like it was his second language.

You climbed the stairs, desperate to wash the salt off your skin. And Bangchan too.

He was still on you—his touch, his scent, the way his breath had felt against your lips. If you closed your eyes for too long, you could feel him, relive every second of it.

And damn, the thought alone sent a rush of heat up your neck. Your stomach did that stupid, embarrassing flip like you were some high school girl with a crush.

Crush.

No. Worse. In love.

The realization should’ve knocked the air out of you, but instead, your lips curled into a smile.

As you reached for the bathroom, Eunji appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, smirking like she knew everything.

“Why are you smiling at yourself like a lovesick idiot?” she teased.

You rolled your eyes, snatching your towel. “I’m just happy to be here.”

Her grin widened, eyes narrowing in suspicion, but before she could dig deeper, you ducked into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

You needed that shower. Badly.

Fresh out of the shower, you walked into the living room, towel still wrapped around your damp hair. Everyone was already sprawled out, drinks in hand, half-empty snack bags littering the floor. Sohee caught your eye and patted the empty spot next to her.

“Right on time. We’re playing.”

You slid in beside her, already skeptical. “Playing what?”

“Truth or dare.” Eunji grinned, way too pleased with herself.

Hyunjin groaned dramatically. “Ugh, I hate this game.”

Minho, without even looking up, muttered, “Actual nightmare.”

Eunji rolled her eyes. “Come on, it’s raining, there’s literally nothing else to do. Live a little.” She grabbed an empty soju bottle and placed it in the middle of the circle.

You barely paid attention to the setup because the moment you looked up, Bangchan was staring right at you, smirking like he had the upper hand in some game you weren’t even playing. Then he had the nerve to wink. And bite his lip. Like a menace.

You shot him a look, but your body betrayed you, warmth creeping up your neck.

Damn him.

The game started off harmless. Jisung dared Changbin to drink hot sauce straight from the bottle—his immediate regret was everyone’s entertainment. A couple of awkward first kiss stories got dragged into the light. Jisung lost a round and had to wear only a towel for the rest of the game. Sohee took a dare way too seriously and chugged half a bottle of soju in under five seconds. Felix stuffed so many sour candies in his mouth that his eyes practically teared up on impact.

And then, of course, Eunji.

She leaned back like she was thinking really hard about her next move, even though you could see the wheels turning in her head before she even opened her mouth.

Her gaze flicked between you and Mingyu before she dropped it like a bomb.

“I dare you to sit on Mingyu’s lap… and kiss him. Like, really kiss him.”

The second Eunji spoke, your stomach bottomed out.

The room crackled with excitement, laughter bubbling up as everyone turned to you, waiting. Anticipating. You felt their eyes, the weight of their expectation pressing down like a challenge you didn’t sign up for.

Mingyu, completely at ease, leaned back, legs spread, hands resting casually on his thighs. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t pushing—just waiting, that soft, patient smile on his face like he already knew you’d come to him. But you? Your whole body locked up, your pulse pounding in your ears.

A dare’s a dare.

The words echoed in your head, sealing your fate. You chanced a glance at Bangchan, heart thudding. He wasn’t watching the way the others were, eyes bright with amusement or curiosity. No, his expression was unreadable, his mouth pressed into a firm line, his fingers drumming lazily against his knee like he couldn’t care less.

Liar.

You swallowed hard. If he had looked at you, if he had said something, anything—maybe you wouldn’t have done it. But he didn’t. So you took a breath and slid onto Mingyu’s lap, feeling his arm come around your waist, solid and warm, grounding you when you felt like floating right out of your own body.

His hands were gentle, his touch careful, like he didn’t want to spook you. One hand came up, threading into your hair as he pulled you in, slow and deliberate. His lips met yours, soft, unhurried. Mingyu kissed like someone who knew what he was doing—confident, assured, but not pushy.

But it wasn’t Bangchan.

The cheers, the clapping, the wolf whistles—they all sounded far away, muffled under the rush of your own thoughts. You were hyper-aware of the way Mingyu held you, how he didn’t let go even after pulling back, his arm still locked around your waist like a silent claim.

You tried to find Bangchan in the crowd, but he wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t looking at anything. He just sat there, unreadable, his posture relaxed, his jaw tight.

Then the bottle spun. And landed on him.

Mingyu wasted no time. “I dare you to kiss one of the girls.”

Your stomach twisted.

The room fell quiet, the energy shifting. All eyes turned to Bangchan, waiting for his move. He exhaled slowly through his nose, his fingers tapping against the side of his thigh before he stood, stretching out his shoulders like this was nothing.

For one wild second, you thought he would walk straight to you. That he would pull you out of Mingyu’s lap, tilt your chin up, and kiss you in front of everyone. That the whole secret would unwind in the span of a heartbeat.

But he didn’t even glance your way.

Instead, he turned— And kissed Eunji.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink as she tilted her head up to meet him halfway, a little smirk playing on her lips. His hand cupped her face, fingers pressing into her skin just enough to make it look effortless, like he’d done it before.

The room erupted again, cheers and laughter filling the space, but all you could hear was the roaring in your ears.

It wasn’t supposed to sting like this. But it did.

You swallowed hard, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth to keep from saying something reckless. Hyunjin muttered something about being exhausted, and you could’ve kissed him for it—because if this stupid game lasted another second, you were going to snap.

Before anyone could stop you, you slipped away, heading straight to your room. You needed to move, to find something, anything, to keep your hands and mind busy before you started spiraling. You sat on your bed, rifling through your bag for the damn book you bought, but before you could even process a single word on the page, the door creaked open.

"Hey."

You didn’t even have to look up. You already knew. Eunji.

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her like she had every right to be there. “You okay? You look a little…” She trailed off, tilting her head.

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to stay calm. "Just tired."

"Yeah, I bet you are."

Something about her tone made your spine go rigid.

You lifted your gaze, brows knitting together. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Eunji let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, like she was pitying you. "I just think keeping up this little game must be exhausting. You know, acting like a whore."

The words hit you like a slap. Your whole body went still. "What did you just say?"

She smirked. "Please. I saw you and Bangchan all over each other on the beach. You looked pretty into it, too. Meanwhile, Mingyu was here, clueless, waiting for you like an idiot. So yeah, that’s why I dared you. I wanted to see just how deep this little act of yours went."

Your pulse roared in your ears.

"You…" You stood up so fast your vision blurred. "Are you serious right now? That’s why you did it? Just to humiliate me?"

Eunji’s expression didn’t change. "No, I did it because you can’t have everything, sweetie. You can’t keep stringing them both along like some selfish little—"

"Say it." Your voice was sharp, your fists clenched at your sides. "Go ahead, say it."

She took a step closer, her smile widening like she wanted you to break. "You’re playing with them. And it’s disgusting."

Your breath hitched.

Eunji’s words slammed into you, cold and cutting, laced with something so cruel it made your stomach turn. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think—just stood there, locked in place as the weight of it all crashed down on you.

She smiled, tilting her head like she was amused. "They'll figure you out eventually. Guys don’t like girls like you."

Like you.

Your throat burned, but before you could even find a way to respond, she turned, opening the door with a careless flick of her wrist. "See you downstairs." And then she was gone.

The room felt too small, too suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Your hands shook at your sides, useless, helpless, and your chest ached with something deep and ugly.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to rip open the door and demand to know why she had done this—why she had looked at you like you were filth beneath her shoe, why she had taken something messy and complicated and turned it into something cruel.

Instead, you stood there, your pulse hammering in your ears, your vision blurring at the edges.

Because some small, broken part of you believed her.

As if your heart and mind had a life of their own, you reached for your phone, fingers trembling as they curled around the device.

you: are you available to be my very beautiful and talented, all-knowing voice of reason? hyunjin: i’m always available for flattery. where are you? you: roof porch. bring snacks. i’m emotionally distressed.

A few minutes later, the wooden planks creaked as Hyunjin climbed up, a bag of chips in one hand and a half-empty bottle of soda in the other. “You’re lucky I’m a good friend,” he said, plopping down beside you. “Otherwise, I would’ve charged for this therapy session.”

You let out a weak laugh, knees pulled to your chest as you stared at the now-silent sky. The rain had stopped, but the air still smelled like it—fresh, damp, a little too heavy.

“So,” he prompted, nudging your shoulder. “What’s up?”

You sighed. “Eunji.”

Hyunjin opened the chips. “What happened?”

You hesitated, running a hand through your hair. Saying it out loud made it feel even worse, but if there was one person you could be honest with, it was Hyunjin.

“She saw me and Bangchan at the beach earlier,” you admitted. “And that’s why she dared me to kiss Mingyu.”

His chewing slowed. “Wait. What?”

“She said she did it because I was messing with both of them. And then—” Your voice caught for a second. “She said that this kind of behavior makes me look like a whore.”

The bag crinkled sharply as Hyunjin’s grip tightened. He turned his head so fast you thought he might get whiplash. “She said what?”

You swallowed, forcing out a laugh that sounded nothing like you. “Yeah. Fun, right?”

Hyunjin was quiet for a second, which was almost worse. Because Hyunjin wasn’t quiet unless he was really pissed.

Then he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring at the distant glow of the house. “I don’t know.”

“No, seriously.” His voice was sharper now, edged with something protective. “That’s not just a shitty thing to say. She was trying to humiliate you. And for what?”

You shrugged, but it felt heavy. “She said neither of them deserved to be played. And she’s right, Hyun.”

Hyunjin let out a humorless laugh. “Okay, but she just forced you to kiss one of them in front of the other. That’s not playing them?”

You didn’t answer, just tugged at the sleeve of your hoodie.

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair before tossing an arm around your shoulder. “You know you don’t deserve that, right?”

You leaned into him slightly, your head against his shoulder. “Yeah. I don’t know.” But it came out too soft.

He squeezed your arm. “No, really. Whatever’s happening with Bangchan or Mingyu—that’s your business. Not hers. She just wanted to make you feel small.”

You exhaled slowly, your chest a little less tight. “Thanks, Dr. Hwang.”

He grinned softly. “Anytime. That’ll be five hundred bucks.”

You rolled your eyes, but for the first time that night, the weight in your chest didn’t feel unbearable.

The kitchen was quiet, the only sound was the faint clink of a spoon against ceramic as Bangchan poured himself a bowl of cereal. The morning light cast soft shadows across the counter, making everything feel strangely delicate—except for the tension sitting thick in the air between you.

You took a breath and stepped closer. “Hey.”

Nothing.

You swallowed. “Can we talk?”

Still nothing. He reached for the milk, pouring it over his cereal like you weren’t even standing there.

“Bangchan.” Your voice was softer now, almost pleading.

He picked up his bowl, turned, and walked right past you, settling on the couch without so much as a glance in your direction. The TV clicked on. Your stomach twisted.

You stood there for a second, waiting, hoping, begging for him to look up, to roll his eyes, to say something. But he didn’t. It was like you didn’t exist.

You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing down whatever was threatening to rise in your throat, then turned and walked away. By mid-morning, the house was awake. Someone had music playing low, there was laughter in the distance, but you still felt stuck in that moment—frozen in that awful, deafening silence.

You needed to get out. You slipped on your shoes and grabbed a jacket, making your way to the door when a voice stopped you.

“Going somewhere?”

You turned to see Mingyu, leaning against the doorway, hair still messy from sleep, looking at you like he already knew the answer.

“Just for a walk,” you said, pulling your sleeves over your hands.

He studied you for a beat before tilting his head. “Mind if I come?”

For a second, you hesitated. But then your mind flickered back to Bangchan—the way he didn’t even look at you, the way he shut you out completely.

You forced a small smile. “Yeah, sure.”

And just like that, you left. Not once bothering to glance back. You already knew—Bangchan hated you right now.

The two of you walked along the damp trail, the scent of rain still clinging to the air. Mingyu shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at you every now and then like he was waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t.

“So,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “you’ve been acting weird.”

You let out a breathy laugh, kicking at a loose pebble. “That’s just my personality.”

Mingyu huffed. “I mean it. You’re… somewhere else.”

You didn’t answer right away. It wasn’t like you could just spill everything. Instead, you shrugged. “Just tired, I guess.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You know, for someone who loves running their mouth, you go real quiet when it actually matters.”

You shot him a look. “Are you psychoanalyzing me now?”

“I’m just saying,” he mused, “we were good. But now it feels like you’re—” He paused, searching for the right word. “—drifting.”

That stung a little. Because he wasn’t wrong.

“I’m not drifting,” you muttered. “I’m just… thinking.”

Mingyu tilted his head, studying you. “Thinking about what?”

Your throat tightened. If you started talking, you weren’t sure what would come spilling out. About Bangchan. About Eunji. About the fact that maybe you were the problem.

Instead, you forced a smirk. “Whether or not I should push you into that puddle.”

Mingyu scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. Keep avoiding.” He kicked at the dirt. “I just… don’t want things to get weird with us.”

Something in your chest twisted. Because the truth was, things already were weird. And it wasn’t fair to Mingyu—he didn’t even know why.

You nudged his arm with your elbow, keeping your voice light. “Things aren’t weird.”

Mingyu arched his brow. “You won’t even look at me.”

You blinked. He caught that? Finally, you sighed. “Mingyu…”

Mingyu stopped walking. Just like that.

You felt it before you even turned to face him—that shift in the air, the tension settling between you like an invisible wall.

“Okay,” he said, voice calmer than it should’ve been. “Then what is it?”

You swallowed. “What?”

“You’re pulling away. I wanna know why.” He held your gaze, steady and unwavering. “Because I thought things were going great.”

Your stomach twisted. They were going great. And maybe in another universe—one where things were simpler, where your heart didn’t trip over itself every time Bangchan so much as looked at you—things would’ve kept going great.

Mingyu exhaled through his nose. “Is it him?”

Your mouth went dry.

“Bangchan,” he clarified.

You rushed to shake your head, but he only let out a short laugh—humorless, bitter.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s what I thought.”

“Mingyu—”

He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “You know, I liked where this was going. I liked you. I still like you. And then he got in the middle of it.”

Your heart squeezed painfully. “It’s not like that. Just let me explain…”

“Isn’t it?” He let out another laugh, sharper this time. “Come on. You can’t even look at me properly. Every time I touch you, it’s like you flinch. And I was dumb enough to think it was just nerves, or maybe I was moving too fast, but no.” He shook his head, gaze piercing. “It’s because you’re thinking about him.”

You opened your mouth, desperate to fix this, but what could you even say?

“I should’ve known,” he muttered. “Should’ve figured it out the second he started acting like a territorial asshole.”

“Mingyu, stop.” You stepped forward, reaching for his wrist. “Bangchan didn’t do anything.”

He pulled away. “Maybe not. But you did.”

Your breath hitched. What? He let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not playing games with you, alright?”

Before Mingyu could take another step, a voice sliced through the humid air.

"What the hell is going on?"

Bangchan’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. He was standing there, hoodie up, hands buried in his pockets, chest rising and falling like he’d sprinted here. His nose was red from the cold, but his eyes—his eyes were locked on you.

Mingyu let out a low, humorless chuckle, stepping back like he’d been expecting this. “Of course…” He dragged a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

And just like that, the three of you were stuck in some ridiculous, messy standoff. You, standing awkwardly in the middle, Mingyu looking like he was ready to break something, and Bangchan… Well, he wasn’t even acknowledging Mingyu. His focus was entirely on you.

You cleared your throat, tugging your sweatshirt down like it could somehow shield you from the weight of their stares. “We were just talking…” you mumbled, trying—and failing—not to sound like you’d just been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Bangchan scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Didn’t sound like just talking.”

Mingyu stepped forward, half in front of you, half blocking Bangchan’s view. “And that’s none of your business, man. Now back off.”

You sighed, stepping beside Mingyu instead of behind him. “Seriously, guys—”

But they weren’t listening. Of course they weren’t. They were too busy puffing up their chests like two overgrown peacocks, shoulders squared, eyes locked, practically vibrating with testosterone and bad decisions.

“I’m not talking to you.” Bangchan tilted his head, eyes darkening.

“You’re pathetic. Always trying to play the hero, the good guy, stepping in where no one asked you to.” Mingyu’s smirk dropped. “Thought you would’ve learned your lesson the first time.”

Your stomach twisted. “Mingyu.” Your voice was a warning, sharp and edged with something close to panic.

Because you knew exactly what he was talking about.

And so did Bangchan.

"Nah, let him talk." Bangchan tilted his head, a slow, mocking nod as his lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "How long have you been choking on that, huh? Must be rough, always coming in second. You should get used to it."

Mingyu stepped in without hesitation, their chests brushing for half a second before he shoved Bangchan back, hard enough to make your breath catch.

"You’re a fucking traitor." His voice was low, shaking with rage. "And you deserved every bit of shit you got."

Before you could process what was happening, his fist connected with Bangchan’s jaw. The crack of impact sent a jolt of shock through your spine, and you stumbled back.

"Guys!" you gasped, panic lacing your voice, but it was too late.

They were already on the ground, rolling through the damp grass like rabid animals, fists flying, grunts and sharp exhales cutting through the night air.

"Are you fucking serious?!" you shouted, your frustration mounting as they kept going, oblivious to anything but their own anger. You searched for something—anything—to break them up, but your hands were empty, and your patience was gone.

"Enough!" Your voice rang out, sharp and commanding, and for a second, the world stilled.

Breathing hard, they tore away from each other, chests heaving. Mingyu’s brow was split, blood trickling down the side of his face, while Bangchan wiped at his nose, already red with fresh blood.

You glared at them, heart racing. "Are you guys five? Actually, scratch that — five-year-olds have more self-control than this."

Bangchan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spitting blood onto the grass with a scoff. "Not my fault he couldn’t keep his fists to himself."

Mingyu scoffed, wiping at his brow. "And you fucking deserved it. Why do you always have to get in my way?"

Bangchan barely had time to take another step before your hand shot out, pressing against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“I said enough.” Your voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. You turned to Mingyu, exhaling through your nose. “Look, I’m sorry. I swear I never meant to hurt you. I just—I had too much going on, and I didn’t know how to handle it. You didn’t deserve to be lied to, and that’s on me. But this?” You gestured to the mess of blood and bruises between them. “This doesn’t make anything better.”

Mingyu let out a slow breath, dragging the back of his hand over his busted brow. He shook his head, jaw tight, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m not a fucking prize for you two to fight over, alright?” Your voice wavered slightly, but the fire in your eyes didn’t.

A bitter chuckle slipped from Mingyu’s lips as he took a step back. “Whatever.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked off, disappearing into the night.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, but when you spun around, your anger reignited.

“And you!” You shoved Bangchan hard enough to make him step back, his expression shifting from confusion to something unreadable.

He barely got the chance to respond before you shoved him again, frustration bubbling over.

“You’re such a fucking idiot!”

Bangchan’s fingers wrapped around your wrists, but you wrenched free, stepping back like his touch burned. You were breathing hard, trying to hold yourself together, but the anger and frustration were clawing their way up your throat.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Your voice cracked, but you powered through. “We had the most perfect night and now everything is ruined!”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I wasn’t thinking, alright? I just—”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, no shit.”

Bangchan rolled his eyes, his jaw clenching. “You kissed him. In front of me. And then I had to sit there and listen to him act like you were his, like he knew you the way I do. I’m sorry if I still have a little heat in my blood, but I wasn’t about to let that slide.”

His chest was heaving, his breathing uneven, but you were past caring.

“You almost killed each other, Chan.”

“I regret it,” he admitted, his voice rough, “but not because of him.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking your head as tears burned behind your eyes. “This is a goddamn joke. Everything I was terrified of? It’s happening. People talking, twisting shit, and now look at me—I’m the villain in their little story. The indecisive bitch who couldn’t pick a side.”

Bangchan’s expression darkened. “Don’t say that. That’s not who you are—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Your voice was barely above a whisper now. “It’s too late, don’t you see?”

He reached for you, but you stepped back again. Your hands were shaking now, but you forced out a small, broken laugh. “This was never going to work. It never did. And I was an idiot to think otherwise.”

Bangchan's eyes flashed with something unreadable—panic, maybe—but you didn’t wait to figure it out. You were already turning away, putting more distance between you with every step. And this time, he didn’t stop you.

His hood slipped down as the wind howled between you, ripping through the space that had already grown too wide, too empty. His hair was a mess, his breathing uneven, and his eyes—God, his eyes—wild and desperate, like he was watching something slip through his fingers that he wasn’t ready to let go of.

“You don’t mean that.”

Your stomach twisted. Your pulse pounded in your throat. But you forced the words out anyway. “Yeah, I do.”

They tasted like blood, bitter and metallic, like something inside you had torn open. But you couldn’t take them back. You wouldn’t.

“It’s over, okay?” The breath you took was shaky, like your own body was rejecting the thought. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Hey, hey, wait…” His voice dropped, softer, pleading now. Like he thought this was fixable. Like you weren’t already breaking apart right in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

He reached for you, fingertips barely grazing your cheek—and you jerked back, every nerve ending screaming at the loss, but you couldn’t let him touch you. If he touched you, this would never end.

Bangchan’s jaw clenched. He exhaled sharply, like your rejection knocked the wind out of him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice barely holding together.

And then you turned, because if you stayed, if you let yourself see the wreckage in his expression for even one more second, you knew you wouldn’t have the strength to walk away at all.

The wind was ruthless, biting at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the sting in your chest. Or maybe it was the tears—hot, angry, relentless—that blurred your vision, dripping down your face before you even noticed they were there.

The weight pressing against your ribs grew heavier, unbearable, like your own body was turning against you. Walking wasn’t enough. Breathing wasn’t enough. You needed to run.

So you did.

Your feet pounded against the ground, carrying you toward the sea—the only thing vast enough, endless enough, to swallow you whole. But it wouldn’t take this away. It wouldn’t drown out the way his voice still clung to your skin, the way his touch still burned like a brand you couldn’t shake.

You just needed to leave. To be alone.

To forget that, for one reckless, fleeting, stupid moment, your heart had ever dared to belong to Bangchan.

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