#So I only read them as I actually did them--- and still chosen to be good xD

[prongsiepotter]

down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

[magnusbae]

If you're interested, here's a prompt from the ones who just shared:

"Then why did you do it?" "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

No rush hehe I hope you get rest and have fun writing this!

Now, see, I could have taken this as an open prompt and went with something else, but I know you like dreamling and so I was good.

Thanks for the prompt dear! 💖 Also special thanks goes to @cuubism for actually going through it 🌻🌻🌻 any mistakes are me ignoring her wisdom or straight up forgetting to edit it. one of the two.

Dreamling - some flavor of hurt/comfort(?) 'you dare?' kind of situation going on there, 1,394w

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“I cannot fathom why—” 

Dream halts mid-sentence, his outrage rendering him speechless for a precious moment in which Hob tries, fruitlessly, to come up with a way to placate him, to explain in a way that will somehow pass as acceptable to Dream. The betrayal is tangible in the air, so charged that Hob’s hair actually stands on end as if from static. It feels like standing at your front door, still safe but seeing the hurricane on the horizon, knowing that this false safety can and will change in moments. Hob cannot think of a single thing. 

“You.” Dream grits his teeth so tightly that they scrape loudly, the sound of it making Hob’s own teeth ache uncomfortably. “Know.” Dream says each word as if it takes a great burden to even use human speech and not simply burn a hole in Hob’s mind. Given Dream’s past record, which Hob had recently learnt of, perhaps it does. “You know I do not ask.”

“I know.” Hob winces.

There’s no denying that he knew. Knew full well that asking Dream’s sibling for help was a guaranteed way to not only outrage him, but also land Hob a very creative punishment and the end of their long friendship.

He knew that, and did it anyway. 

Would again, if he had to.

He will not apologize for that.

Dream seems to come to the same conclusion, cheeks reddening in a surprising display of humanity, of lack of control over his appearance. The darkness that creeps into his eyes is distinctly not human. Hob shudders but fixes his eyes on Dream’s, refusing to avert his eyes like a reprimanded youth. He did what he did, and he’s not sorry.

''Then.” To Hob’s surprise, Dream seems to level himself, to school the darkness out of his eyes and ask with a calm that is somehow more unnerving than his rage. “Why did you do it?" There is a finality to this question, like a judge asking for one last confession to tip the scale one way or another. There will be judgment at the end of it, Hob knows. 

“Because…” he sucks in a breath, there’s a ball of nerves in his stomach and frustration, surprising him with its intensity, it feels almost like anger.

Why is he here, searching for excuses for something he believes in wholeheartedly? He doesn’t want to learn firsthand of Dream’s notorious pettiness but he’s not here to play these sort of games. 

The outraged huff is stuck in his throat— he didn’t even realize he had raised his voice this much, not until the ring of it strains his ears. He is practically shouting. And he doesn’t care. 

 ''BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.''

There’s anger in it, frustration, a measure of desperation.

“I bloody love you more than I fear you, that’s why.” His own cheeks burn, itch, tingle with the indignation of it all. “Because I’m a besotted fool who would make a pact with the devil if I had to, if it meant helping you.” He gestures curtly at Dream, then spreads his arm in an exaggerated motion of question. “Why else? Seriously, why else?!” He stops at that, breathing harshly. This is not how he had imagined, not even close. Fuck it. And fuck Lucifer, too. And Dream’s all too pleased sibling, on top.

Through his outburst Hob had stopped paying attention to Dream’s face, only his eyes, latching onto them as if they were his anchor in this universe, the only constant thing, in life, in this.

When he finally looks, really looks, he realizes with a start that Dream’s cheeks are no longer red with anger, that his eyebrows are not as tightly knitted, that his pale lips form a small and lax ‘o’. 

His friend looks taken aback, pacified and…surprised.

Like he couldn’t fathom this being the reason for Hob’s supposed betrayal of trust. Like this was the last rationale he had expected to hear, like he, an Endless being of incomprehensible wisdom, is unable to conceive this simple truth. Like he’s at a loss now.

Like he’s a bloody idiot. Hob shakes his head in amazement, his own anger evaporating as quickly as it came. Yet again he wonders how it is possible to be all knowing and yet so blind, so oblivious to such a simple truth, one Hob didn’t even try too hard to hide, really.

“I know you didn’t want me to,” he softens his voice, speaking more quietly “but I really didn’t have a choice. If I could do this on my own, you know I would have, I’d do worse for you.” He smiles at Dream, he doesn’t even try to sound self-deprecating, it’s the honest truth. He would.

His hand drops by his side and he awaits then, for his judgment.

“You love, me?”

Hob doesn't know how to respond to such a simple question other than–

“I do.”

There’s nothing else to add to that, he said it all, he did it all, even Dream must understand this is no passing fancy. One does not risk their immortal soul for something insignificant. Especially not Hob. One does it when it means everything. And in this case, it did. Dream did. 

Dream seems to again, come to the same conclusion. 

He wilts, shoulders sagging. He looks both much older and much younger at the same time, like this knowledge has stricken him, hurt him.

“You shouldn’t” is all he says. 

“But I do.” Hob answers in return. 

“I see that.” Dream’s voice is a whisper carried by the breeze, gentle, endless, aching. He looks torn in that moment, the judge whose scales no longer measure in any understandable manner. He casts his gaze down. 

“Just let me,” Hob says. He did not come here demanding boons, nor love, only to help Dream. “Forgive my impudent human inclinations to save what I love, and let us continue as we were. Friends. “

“Friends…” Dream repeats after him, as if in disbelief.

Dream opens his mouth to say more—to accept or refuse, Hob doesn’t know—but in that exact moment Matthew half-crashes, half-lands on Dream’s shoulder, a flutter of black feathers and barely muffled curses.

“Boss! Oh for fuck’s sake— I mean cracker’s sake— I mean what the hell— I mean you’re fine—you’re actually okay, I was sure that this time you’re like legit—” he notices Hob then, and cawing loudly he curses again “You actually did it you son of a bitch— you really did!” His wings open excitedly, brushing against Dream’s face, covering it up.

“Matthew.” 

“Uh-” Matthew folds his wings immediately. 

Hob looks at Dream then, the moment is decidedly broken but he has to know if he’d see him again, he can’t just go on not knowing, it’ll drive him insane. “Dream—” he starts, but Dream speaks over him.

“We will discuss this—” Dream’s lips tighten, eyes flicking to Matthew and then back at Hob. “At a later time.” He concludes rather curtly, seemingly deciding that addressing exactly what they will be discussing is not something he wants his Raven to be privy to.

“Right…” Hob murmurs, not speaking further of the topic either. It’s one thing to break Dream’s boundaries over life and death, another entirely over his own impatience and need to know. Dream wanting to see him again at all is already a damn good sign, and Hob will take it, gladly.

“I’ll see you later then, Dream” He uses the name even while not being sure he is still permitted to, that he did not lose the privilege. Dream tilts his head but doesn’t object, instead he nods once and disappears in a swirl of golden sand.

“Show off…” Hob murmurs into the empty air, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a good feeling in his gut, he should probably be worried but he has a feeling that things will work out, that it all will be just fine. He can’t explain it, but he has learnt to trust his gut over the years. After all, it once led him to believe that he would never die.

It was right then, and it’ll be right now too. He and Dream will figure it out and will be better for it. Just like the other time, just like always. 

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

P.s. this is pre-relationship, when your feelings are still untold...some of the guys are still awkward and some are not :')

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄

Visiting Price in his office was a common occurance. Sometimes you brought a drink with you, other times you just brought your old tired self.

This was one of those times.

And without looking up, he patted his knee and you hesitated. But only for a moment because as soon as you saw his pen stop scratching on the paper, you stalked over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, trying not to think about the goddamn awful day you had. You knew John would want to talk about it when you were ready. It's one of the things you love about him. He wants to help you no matter what.

As if on Instinctive John wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you in closer. Your face was flushes against his neck and your hands cling to his other arm.

John is so warm, and makes you feel so safe. Everyday is a battle for you; because you just want to fall into his arms and kiss him until you can no longer breathe.

But you can't, because he's your superior and you don't want to jeapordise anything.

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

Wide-eyed and trying not to move. Even his breathing becomes shallower. It's lucky he's wearing a mask otherwise there would've been a bright red Ghost for everyone to see.

Continues to death glare the others, placing a firm finger in front of his lips. Reminding them to SHUT UP.

No one is allowed to talk when you are asleep in the common area. On Ghost's literal orders.

But he never thought you would actually fall asleep on him.

It was a nice feeling. One that made him giddy inside. Like ... he had been chosen for something important.

And maybe he had. This could be a way for your body to tell Ghost that "I WANT YOU!" But unless you actually tell him, he isn't going to get it - or believe it.

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊

Warmth travels to his cheeks as he realises that you've practically clung yourself to him and fallen asleep.

He had taken you to the movies because you had some spare time on your hands and wanted to feel like normal people for once.

But halfway through, drowsiness had overcome you, and consciousness faded away.

It was easy to fall asleep next to Gaz, whose smell and gentle heartbeat felt like heaven.

You hadn't wondered if this was going to far, you trusted Gaz enough to tell you if it was. But he would never tell you that.

Because there was no 'too far.' He would do anything for you. He just didn't know how to get you to see that.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

Oh our sweet boy Soap, he would become so goddamn giddy. His cheeks turn red as he moves ever so slowly to look at you.

Watching movies together was a common occurance. Your place or his, it didn't matter. Even the movie didn't matter - though you both argued over it relentlessly. It was a way for you both to spend more time together. A reason to say why you were late for ___

Your head had dropped a little and his eyebrows flew upwards. He would never live it down if you fell straight into his crotch area.

So he moved his arm around your shoulders and let you turn fully around to hug him.

Your face pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Tha gaol agam ort," he whispers into your hair. You only barely heard it. It means (I love you).

He only ever says it when you cannot hear him. But litte did he know you were catching on to certain Gaelic words. Maybe not at that moment, but you had better hearing than he thought you did.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

Did not know what to do, and in the midst of his panic, he had accidentally wriggled his shoulder. Which meant you curled up on his lap.

"Oh maus..." Konig whispered, afraid that you would wake up and freak out. But if he truly believed that, then he hadn't been paying attention to your friendship at all.

After ten minutes of the movie playing but Konig couldn't stop staring down at your curled form in his lap, he slowly and gently moved the hair from your face. Stroking your cheeks, running his fingers over your nose and forehead.

It was right then that he fell in love with you. Truly fell in love with you.

A monster and his love. That's how Konig saw the two of you.

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈

Charming, suave, flirtacious and utterly awkward when it comes to you.

He makes as much spare time as he can to spend it with you. And curling up on the couch seemed to be the best idea for today.

His large hands wrap around your form and pull you closer.

"Иди спать, малышка" (go to sleep little one) he says quietly, watching you intently as you drift into a deep slumber.

Maybe there is a gun wedged between him and the armrest, but he knows his lifestyle, and how many people want to kill him.

But that is nothing compared to spending time with you.

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍

Coughs; yes he actually coughs and a few times at that. Why did he cough? He has no clue. Was he trying to wake you up? See if you accidentally forgot he was there?

In all honesty he was panicking - this wasn't the type of friendship that you had. It was all banter and poking fun at each other.

Someone actually asked if Keegan was being bullied a few weeks ago.

He snorted and just walked away. It was probably the best thing that recruit could've said.

It was after a long mission and you barely had time to undress from your military clothes, when Keegan barged in and held up two family sized bars of chocolate. "As a thank you for having my back out there, kid."

You couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach. But saving face was what you two did. So you took both of the offerings and laid down in bed. "If you're having all the chocolate, I'm not leaving" "I'm not giving it back Keegan." "Looks like you have a bunk buddy then."

And the tall man climbed into bed beside you awkwardly trying to get comfortable. "Jackass," you mumbled. But a slight smile was on your lips. And within an hour you fell asleep.

When you woke up, Keegan was practically ontop of you, melted chocolate on his lips and slight snoring coming from his nose.

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒

"What the fuck," he mutters to himself as you rest your head on his shoulder on the plane.

You had both been placed on a mission for months and now that it was over, you were exhausted (to say the very least).

The whole time you were together, there had always been bickering. Especially when you were undercover as a married couple.

So you were used to the hostility of Graves (even though he barely had any anymore when it came to you).

Hence, you were way too tired to give a shit. Honestly, if he were to wriggle you off, you would clutch his arm to keep him still.

But he didn't do that. Instead he feigns annoyance and rests his head against the back of his chair. His eyes flickering over to you every few seconds to see if you were okay (if that were to be brought up, he would say that he was looking out the window).

As the time went by, and you woke up, you found that Graves had found your hand and was clutching it.

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎

Sinks into you as well. His culture isn't so rigid as others. And showing affection means multiple things, but the main thing is that it means he cares.

Where your head lolled on his shoulder, he moved back on the couch, yawned, and pulled you down with him. Your sleeping head was rested gently against Ale's chest.

He knew about your feelings for him, and you knew about his, so this situation was awkward. He knew he had to step up and say something, but it had turned into a game of sorts. As if the first person who spoke up would lose.

But having you on his chest, smelling your hair, feeling the weight of your body on his, he decided that he would happily be the loser.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[moni-logues]

Haircut

Pairing: Boxer!JK x reader

Genre: pwp/smut but honestly it ends kind of cute uwu

Summary: Watching Jungkook work out, coupled with that new haircut, gets you so hot and bothered, you don't make it home before you have to do something about it

Word count: 2.5k

Content: car sex therefore sort of semi-public but they aren't seen, unprotected sex

A/N: so.... JK's live sent me insane and Jess said 'Thirteen Rounds drabble?' and now here we are. You don't actually have to have read Thirteen Rounds to read this but, honestly, I'd recommend it because I actually think it is quite good lmao. Y'all have this little bastard to thank for all of it 😂😂😂 and yes that is the picture I've chosen and I'm sticking with it!!!!!1

You leant on the doorframe, watching Jungkook train, still not over the novelty of being able to. 

After a lot of soul-searching and debating and to-ing and fro-ing, he had decided to part ways with his now-former coach (you cheered only inwardly because you knew how hard a decision it had been for him). You liked his new coach; his new coach liked you. His new coach let you inside the gym; his new coach let you sit in on training.  

You knew as well as JK did (and much better than his new coach did) that you would be a distraction if you sat and watched a whole session but sometimes you liked to show up just a little early when picking him up.  

You watched him from the door as he grunted and whined his way through another set of inchworms. He looked about ready to collapse when his coach asked him for one more. He cried out and you giggled to yourself as he nevertheless walked forwards on his hands into a plank, panting noisily, groaning as he pushed himself back towards his toes. His T-shirt long abandoned at the side of the room, he was glistening with sweat, his muscles rippling as he worked. You couldn’t not think about his hand around your neck, the salty zing of his sweat when you kissed his skin, all those noises he was making now but making them only for you, only in the effort of fucking you like you wanted, like you needed. Like, he said, you deserved. 

It gave you pause sometimes, how much, how badly you wanted him. Still. All the time. Your friends thought you were crazy, a horndog outlier on the normal distribution of sexual appetite which you had to admit seemed true, but you hadn’t been that way until you’d met Jungkook. No one had ever wanted you like he did, as much, as badly, as all the time as he did. He was all-in from day one. That’s just who he was: he gave all of himself to everything that he did; everything meant everything to him; he was burning up, all day and all night, an eternal fire of keen passion, of relentless energy, of an unstoppable drive.  

And the way he fucked you. You couldn’t say no. Couldn’t turn it down. Couldn’t live without it. It was months ago now, that month off, that painfully long stretch of time without him, and you still felt like you were making up for it.  

His coach finally told him it was over, he was finished, and he collapsed in a sweaty heap on the floor. He rolled onto his back, starfishing, his chest heaving, his hair in his face. It looked different. You knew he was getting it cut before training (a decision that made no sense to you, since it was now, already, dirty with sweat and whatever grime it was picking up from the floor). You couldn’t quite tell what it was going to look like. 

He’d been growing it out. It was the longest you’d ever seen it. You liked it. Liked to run your fingers through it when you were trying to get to sleep at night. Liked to wrap it around your fingers when his head was between your legs. He liked that, too.  

As he sat up, his back to you, you were relieved that he hadn’t taken any length off. That relief evaporated in an instant when, having put his T-shirt back on, he turned around and you saw what he had done. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, swallowing hard.  

Jungkook’s eyes widened when he saw you. 

“Baby!” he cried, his arms thrown wide as he approached.  

He wrapped you in a sweaty hug, holding you as tight as he could, rubbing his sweaty head over yours. 

“Ew, stop it! Stop it!”  

You swatted at him and he giggled, pulling back but not letting you go.  

“You love it.” 

You could only nod as you reached a hand up to brush over his hair, the front cut short above his eyes. He closed them and scrunched his nose; you saw a tiny blush creep onto his cheeks and you wanted to scream with how badly it made you want him, right there, right that second. 

“Do you like it?” he asked.  

“I-” you started and had to stop, clear your throat, tell your heart to slow its roll for a second. “Yes, Kookie, I like it. I like it a lot.”  

You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip.  

“You do?”  

You had to look away, take a momentary break from his huge, sparkling, puppy-dog eyes, from his little hopeful smile and, fuck, that haircut. You tightened your grip on his shoulders. 

“Yes, Jungkook, I do and if you don’t let me take you home right this second and show you how much I like it, I might literally die.”  

He trailed a hand up your side, a sneaking smirk on his face. 

“Is that right? You like it that much, huh?” 

“Yes, now let’s go.” 

He laughed and walked back for his bag, taking his sweet time, walking as slowly as he could, stopping to tie his shoelace. 

“Jungkook!”  

* * * 

You sat at a red light, grateful that it was late, that it was dark, that people couldn’t see you, flushed and antsy, fidgeting in your seat as you tried not to break every single speed limit on your way home.  

Jungkook was not helping. He hummed along with the radio with his hand on your thigh. Mostly just resting there, occasionally letting his fingers wander higher and higher. You wished you had worn jeans, or something thicker than leggings, so that when he gently dragged a finger over your aching core, you wouldn’t feel it so much, it wouldn’t make you squirm in your seat, your mouth wouldn’t drop open in a silent gasp, your clit wouldn’t throb.  

“Jungkook,” you breathed. 

“Yes, baby?” he replied, looking like butter wouldn’t melt. 

“I mean it. I am literally going to die if you keep teasing me like this.” 

Jungkook removed his hand from your crotch and hummed thoughtfully. He brought up the navigation on the screen and started punching in an address. 

“Just follow this,” he said when he’d finished.  

You’d have done anything he asked you at that point. The streets were familiar to you, but you couldn’t work out why Jungkook was taking you here. You pulled into the empty car park of a retail estate, the shops all closed hours ago, lights off.  

“You have reached your destination,” intoned the satnav. 

“Um, this is a car park.” 

“Yeah, my love, go over there.” 

He pointed towards a dark corner, where the streetlights didn’t quite reach. You manoeuvred the car into the space, put it into park, and turned the engine off. Jungkook unclipped your seatbelt as he unclipped his own and then he barrelled into the backseat. He patted his lap. 

“Come here, you.”  

Sex in the car wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind but any inhibitions you might have had, any hesitations about fucking somewhere so public, where anyone could see were drowned out by the desperation you felt, the desire bordering on hysterical. You might have got out and fucked him against a shop window if you’d had to. But you were glad you didn’t have to. 

You straddled Jungkook and took his face in your hands, not wasting a second more. You crashed your lips together and the spark ignited. You rolled your hips over his and gasped to feel him already hard beneath his trousers. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your open mouth, moaning as his hands disappeared inside your T-shirt. You were hot all over, shivering under his touch. He unclasped your bra and you ripped your top off, letting your bra fall with it. When he dipped his head to suck your nipple into his mouth, you whined, dizzy with need, shaking with it, your hips still rocking against his clothed length. It had been twelve hours since he was last there, beneath you, on top of you, inside you, but that might as well have been a lifetime. Your need eclipsed everything else. You weren’t thinking with your cunt; you weren’t thinking at all. You were aching, wanting, lusting, dripping. You were a siren screaming Jungkook’s name, wailing into the dark night for him and him alone.  

“I need you, Kookie- fuck. Please. Fuck me.”  

He hooked his fingers around the waistband of your leggings and tugged them down. You separated so you could pull them all the way off, so Jungkook could lift his hips and remove his trousers and boxers. You pushed him backwards, so he was lying on the backseat, and climbed back on. You took his cock, all heavy-heat and velvet-rigidity, leaking already—how much, how badly he always wanted you—and slid yourself along it, your arousal sticky-sweet and all over. He was coated in your juices, slick as you wrapped your hand around him and settled yourself over him, lodging the tip in your entrance.  

Jungkooked hissed as you lowered yourself, his hands gripping your hips, his mouth falling open as you took him in, every inch. You sat, him full inside you, this pressure and pleasure spreading, aching in your cunt and your clit, your hips and your thighs, too. You couldn’t bear to move, didn’t want to lose this feeling, didn’t want the emptiness to return even for a second.  

“You ok, baby?” he asked, tipping his head to look at you, cocking it to the side. 

You nodded, eyes closed, one hand ghosting over your clit, not really touching, not really not.  

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just want to stay like this for a bit.” 

“Ok.” 

He ran his hands down your thighs, back up to your hips, and you luxuriated in it. How he fit you, stretched you, felt made for you. The radiating heat and stickiness of his dried-sweat skin. The softness of his touch. The things he whispered to you, how you felt so good, how much he loved you, loved to fuck you. When he moved your hand aside and pressed his thumb against your clit, you jerked, the direct pressure suddenly too much when you had been craving it for so long.  He lifted his thumb away and then returned it, slowly, gently, rubbing circles over you.  

You cursed and tipped your head back, looking skyward, as you felt everything in you pull together, the tension white-hot, the pleasure barbed, the heat bubbling and roaring. Your hips began to move, your clit chasing his touch, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Jungkook groaned and he gripped your hip with one hand, stilling you so he could take over. He braced himself carefully, one foot on the seat, one on the floor, and directed you upwards, the drag of his dick against your walls enough to make you whine. Then he held you there, his tip still clutched inside, and began to thrust, hard and fast.  

You scrabbled at the ceiling of the car for purchase, weak suddenly as he fucked into you; where he found the strength, you’d never know. He had not twenty minutes ago been collapsed on the gym floor; you knew you’d be collapsing soon if you couldn’t find something to grip, something to hold your body up. Jungkook pushed harder with his thumb, rubbing rougher circles now and you fell forward with a quiet cry, leaning heavily on his chest. He huffed and paused and you tried to catch your breath. 

“Don’t stop, please.”  

He chuckled breathlessly and held still, lazily tracing your nipple with his finger. You whined. 

“Please. I’m literally begging you, Kookie. Don’t be mean.”  

He didn’t answer except to slam into you, once, hard. Then he dragged himself slowly out and did it again. The new angle had him squeezing tight past your g-spot with every thrust. It had you seeing stars. It had you digging your nails into his shoulders. He kept at it, torturously slow, and you were begging, again, pleading with him for more. 

“Kookie,” you cried, using all your strength to lift yourself up to look in his eyes.  

They were black, sparkling, a galaxy of mischief as he sucked his lip ring into mouth and bit his bottom lip. You clenched tight as he dragged himself out and the smirk tugging at his lips fell, faltering. He whimpered softly, accidentally. 

“See, Kookie? You want it, too. Please. Please. More. I need more. Oh- Fuck, please.”  

Your fingers twisted around the hair at the nape of his neck and you tugged as your face fell into the crook of his neck. You pressed your lips against his salty skin, dragged your tongue up the column of his neck and felt him shiver beneath you. He groaned and then gripped you hard with both of his hands on your hips. He sped up. Faster and harder. Pistoning into you with gasping grunts of effort, his jaw tight, his hair sticking to his forehead. Yeses tumbled from your mouth. Yes and thank you and words that were no longer words, little moaned vowels and consonants stuck in your throat. 

You slipped a hand between your bodies and picked up where Jungkook left off. Your cunt spasmed at the lightest touch on your clit and Jungkook’s grunt was broken and high-pitched as you squeezed him, vice-tight and slippery. Words and breath all strangled, tangled up in pleasure as you began to shake all over, Jungkook crying out loud, your name over and over again, how good you felt, how good you were, how close he was.  

A rush of heat and gush of arousal. A twitching trembling in your legs. A shaking stuttering in your heart. A screaming, careening ecstasy. Rapture.  

A numb, tingling weakness after a fusion of strength and force. A warm body, yours; a warm body, his. The ratatat-tat of your hearts against each other. The ocean rush of your breath, heaving, panting, gasping.  

“So you really like my new haircut, huh, baby?” 

You whined, feeling boneless and shivery but hot all over. You reached one hand up with a groan and tugged at a forelock.  

“It’s dangerous, my little oreo. You are dangerously fucking sexy. I don’t know how we’re going to get home. I don’t even know how I’m going to get dressed. I can’t feel my legs.”  

Jungkook kissed the top of your head and pulled his hands under his head with a satisfied sigh. He used to think you’d get tired of him, sick of him. Because everyone else did. No one could ever keep up, no one ever wanted anything as much as he did. Too much. He knew it was too much—he was too much. For everyone. They told him to stop and calm down and get over things, tone it down a little, take a breather. But not you. He was never too much for you. You always met him there. You kept wanting him, so much, so badly, even after all this time. He was never too much, for the first time in his life.  

[m1ndbrand]

"and all it took was..." — Prize

WARNINGS: Slight!NSFW it's suggestive I would say 18+; Coriolanus Snow is it's own warning(Snow after the 10thGames, 2 years after to be precise); slight dub-con; mentions of physical assault; a small mental breakdown in the beginning; Reader is also not "normal"; This is after the Reader's Hunger Games, she was 18 when chosen, she is 19 now(the same age Lucy Gray would be/is);

SUMMARY: The 12th Hunger Games winner unfortunately fortunately gets the attention of President Snow.

WORDS: 2.079

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the franchise The Hunger Games characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. I do claim what i wrote and only that.

DIVIDERS BY: @cafekitsune (Thank you so much, all your work is lovely!)

A/N: I wasn't really going to publish this but as I finish it I just thought, hell, why not? So here it is, I apologize for any errors or mistakes and/or writing, English is not my first language and I usually don't write I just read really.

MASTERLIST

“ease a little—” the feminine voice pleaded almost, her voice strained. He only tightened his grip, burying his face deeper into the warmth of her skin. She stills a breath, waiting for something sharp and painful, a slap against her cheek for her words.

It doesn’t come.

No words, no warning bark, and not a bite felt in her skin. He just grabbed her tighter.

She hated him, she reminds herself when a small bud of sympathy begins to form for him. She hated him.

But he wanted her…for some reason she could not fathom, needed someone, and she always wished to feel wanted. Wanted by her family even if she was born a girl and not a boy like they so ardently wished, wanted as a friend, a lover, someone…anything— wanted. Just wanted. She craved that her whole life. Hungered for it.

And this is all he wants from her, stay with him, let him hold her, even if he is the vile man she knows he is, he wants…no he needs her, she understands as his grip trembles as her hands move again to try and move his away from her. She had never seen him like this.

A sick satisfaction settles inside her being against her better judgment, her heart beating faster as he cries against her flushed skin, fuck he really was that attacked already? She sighs and lets her head fall against the too-soft pillow, her body relaxing against his grip, letting the snake smother her.

Was this dangerous…? Yes well— he did kill people, one was the person he loved, that he was attached to…but she needed him too. She needed his attachment, his feelings even if twisted ones to survive, to get back home… Will he let her though? The thoughts ring in her head like a bright red warning light, would he let her get out of his arms and sight?

The cold softness of the inside of her hand touches his warm and slightly wet cheek, mumbling the nickname she knows he will answer to. Coryo.

He beams. Bless him, he actually beamed to her, eyes glazed as he looked for whatever she would be saying before she even said it.

Protect my family. They need money, food—

She wanted to say, but she knew his mistrustful self would see this as her trying to manipulate him, which she was, for the benefit of her family.

So before those words come out, she swallows them, and she kisses his cheek to disperse any emotions he could read in her face that would indicate any of her thoughts. It was short and sweet, and she could feel her cheeks flushing slightly as the shame settled inside her. She never thought she would need to do this to survive— any act of caring as soft and simple as this was, she thought of only brutal killing and lies, and manipulation would be in her way to survive inside the Arena. Inside the Capitol, the games she was unlucky enough to get dragged to.

What she hated the most was that the red in her cheeks was not only from the shame of her actions but also because the kiss was close to his mouth, the corner of his lips to be exact. And his lips were soft against hers, warm. Someone with the name Snow shouldn’t have to be so fucking warm.

He turns to stone for a split second, calculating her actions and why she did them, she thinks with dread growing in the pit of her stomach. Maybe he had seen behind her façade and would kill her right away— suddenly he lunges at her, his hands grabbing her jaw and neck like he is about to smash his forehead against her head violently and aggressively, maybe breaking her skull against the white wall behind the bed painting them red with her soft and red insides…but he kisses her. His thumb goes to her cheek, feeling up and then pressing the line where her teeth would be closed, and he makes her mouth slightly open for him. It easily opens with how caught off guard she was.

It’s like he is breathing her in through his mouth for a second before he devours her.

Oh. Oh. This was happening. Really happening.

After some seconds, she tries to at least mimic him, his tongue licks the top of her mouth and she tries to push his tongue against hers instead, her hands going to grip his shirt for some stability. She didn’t know how to act now, she was losing her advantage, her calm and collected self, and he was slowly peeling off her armour.

His hand caresses her neck, and she shivers, he is sure to notice this as he gives a breathy laugh against her mouth, and she flushes more. Did he know she was inexperienced? Was he mocking her? Her shame-filled mind didn’t let her finish her train of thought as he continued with his advances. His other hand takes this chance to feel her up better, pushing against the softness of her chest and her heartbeat goes faster, her eyes wider. Were they…? No, he wouldn't— He closes his hand around her breast, a groan of his going straight to her core and she trembles. No no no she can’t feel like this, not with him. Her racing mind makes her grip his shoulder, and her other hand pushes his chest a little, making him stop his actions altogether. He looks down at her with half-lidded eyes, his breathing fixing with hers.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a slightly raspier voice, his hand resting on her hip bone, finger instinctively drawing circled in her skin trying to soothe her and she hated it because it helped. She was wide-eyed with flushed skin and trembling body, her look deeply satisfying him, but of course, he wasn’t going to say anything that could make her run away from him like a scared small animal.

“Well— aren’t we…” She thinks over her words, “going too fast?” He arches an eyebrow at his, amusement dancing in his face, “You want to stop?” He looks into her eyes and then down at her trembling body, the hand resting on her neck moving down to hoover around her breast. “You seem,” He pauses a little, like he is tasting the words “very responsive” Her gaze looks at where he is looking and if she wasn’t flustered now she is, her nipples visible against her thin shirt, dammed chic and thin Capitol clothes that can even show the slight curve of bones and prickled flesh.

“…this is— a normal bodily reaction, nothing more” she mutters quickly, sniffing as her gaze looks away from him, she heard him hum and his warmth again in the softness of her skin, her hardened bud being once again teased with his thumb. She feels herself move at the sudden contact, her eyes going to him.

“There you go, no looking away— Victor” He drops his face closer to her chest, his warm breath hitting her clothed flesh, and she stirs a breath at the picture. His slick hair perfectly placed as his mouth rounds the plush of her breast, lips slightly glistening with both of their saliva mixed together. She gulps a noise that threatens to come out and as she feels his tongue roll against her bud, her hand goes to his hair, trying to pull his away from her too sensitive skin.

His hands go to the end of her shirt and pull it up, making a temporary barrier for her hands so he can mouth her again, this time as his wet muscle makes contact with her nipple a breathy gasp escapes her mouth. Her hand puts the thin shirt out of her vision, his hand already taking care of the other bud of nerves, and her hand goes once again to his hair. As she slightly pulls it he groans, biting her and groaning a warning, not enough to inflict pain but enough to get a whine out of her throat.

“Shit—” Her hand eases on his hair, only pulling him against her as he takes his mouth away from her nipple, going to the other. He mouths against her with a moan and her thighs close together, he must have noticed this because one hand moves to her thighs, getting his hand between them.

“We aren’t stopping,” He groaned as the inside of his hand palms her through her panties, wet from arousal “fuck…” Her eyes shot to his, shocked to hear someone so collected with his words curse “so wet already” She was sure she could hear a smirk in his words, but he was moving his lips against her skin, his face hidden as he kept her trembling with his mouth and hands. He was meticulous with this like he had all of this planned, her mind didn’t let her think much however, analyse what was happening, her eyes focusing on his pale and shiny hair and moving down and down on her.

“I can’t stay,” She says with a tremble to her voice as she feels his hardened length against her thigh, her voice trembling as she feels the hardness much bigger and thicker than she anticipated. “I will be going back to my District—” Her heart was fast like she was running in the Arena again. This was something she knew if they continued, he wouldn’t let her go, she could see it in his eyes. She wanted to belong, to be part of yes, but the way he looked at her was like…she was a part of himself, like something that was already his and it scared her. It scared her thinking of losing the little freedom she had, the little freedom any District person had. It scared her to not being able to see her family. But what scared her more than anything was that thinking about it, actually putting her mind to it, she didn’t mind it much.

It scared her, she didn’t mind being owned if this was going to be her life. She wouldn’t starve, she didn’t need to provide for her family, he would take care of them. Taking care of everything that it was her responsibility her whole life. She quickly understood that…

Being owed would be much easier than being free.

And even if the idea was fucked up, and she knew it was, it was still the truth. She was scared about this kind of relationship, not of him she knew he wouldn’t hurt her(right?) but how far he would…well, go for anything if needed.

His hand gripped her thighs as his chin rested on one of her knees, his piercing blue eyes looking up at her with amusement.

“We both know you already made up your mind,” His blunt nails pressed against her skin, surely marking her with crescent moons.

“The moment I got to read your file, actually see you…I knew you were meant to be mine” That was…before the games were even over? Before the games themselves started. Her eyebrows furrow down at him, and he gives her a half smile, “How popular were you during the games, do you remember?” He mumbles as his hands rest on the mattress under her, on the side of her hips. “Not very, you didn’t perform, didn’t talk much.” He continues with his words as he slowly comes up to her face like a predator closing on their prey. “You kept to yourself to strike and kill fast— not doing alliances…”

“How do you think you got water from sponsors? The medicine and…your well-beloved and helpful small knife?” A chill runs down her spine as she looks at him with new information given to her “The knife was the most expensive thing since it was actually ‘illegal’ to send the tributes something something like that” His lips touch hers again and his knee goes between her legs, spreading them apart and getting them between him. “Did you know that?” He muses with calculating eyes, the mental breakdown he had was long forgotten like it never happened and Snow was looking at her, his prize.

“Now,” His eyes darken with still hidden information he has yet to give. “won’t you thank your sponsor?” He breathes against her lips with his eyes looking straight at her, his knee rubbing her clothed sex.

Next

[woso-dreamzzz]

Academy

Hardersson x Preteen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first academy session

Your first official day of academy training comes after Momma and Morsa have retired.

You've moved back to Sweden properly now with constant trips to Denmark as well. But, mainly, you're based in Sweden. Momma and Morsa have gone into coaching and sometimes commentating while you're left going to school and practicing.

You'd done a trial in the summer for Linköping FC and got in and now you're sitting in the car with Momma and Morsa psyching yourself up to go in.

You're eleven now - nearly twelve - and you open and close your hands into fists as you look over at the training centre. There's a group of similarly aged girls to you waiting outside, getting ticked in on the register as they stand in a clump.

"Do you need us to come up with you?" Morsa asks, also looking at the girls.

You shake your head. "No. No one else's parents are there." It's a lie, of course. You desperately want them to walk you up there but it'd be embarrassing so you're leaning away from the option.

Momma turns back in her seat and reaches her hand back to hold yours. "Hey," She says," It's only for a few hours. You go in. You listen. You do what they say and then we'll go and get takeout for dinner. Sound good?"

You nod, wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts. "Yeah."

"We love you," Morsa says," And if you hate it, you don't have to go back."

You slip out of the car and approach, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you sign in. It doesn't take long for everybody else to arrive and soon you're all being brought inside and handed trainings shirts and stuff.

Then, names are being read out.

You're still young so roles like defence, midfield and forward are still fairly flexible but some people (like you) are already firmly in little boxes so you're easy to separate out.

But, most of your peers end up in a group in the middle because they either haven't chosen their roles or don't yet know what they'd be good at.

There's a fairly large group of forwards which Momma told you last night would happen. At your age, everyone wants to score a goal and most of these girls will end up as attacking midfielders before the year is up. Speaking of the midfield, they're a much smaller group than the self-proclaimed forwards and the defenders are even smaller.

You're the only goalkeeper, feeling a little awkward as you sit at a table all by yourself until the trainer comes.

He smiles at you. He's kind of got one of those old people smiles that Momma's dad has, all warmth and happiness.

You smile back.

"You know," He says, his voice barely above a whisper," I wasn't actually expecting any keepers today. Usually, everyone wants to score a goal."

"That's what my Momma says."

"Your Momma sounds very smart," He replies," Now..." He pulls out some sheets of paper. "I'm meant to explain all the ins and outs of everything. It's meant to take a while because we leave time for questions but, if you let me get through this all then I'm sure we'd have time to play a few rounds of noughts and crosses while everyone else finishes up. Sound good?"

You nod.

He's right, of course. Everyone else takes ages to explain everything but keeping is fairly straight forward and you're the only keeper here so there's not other people around to ask questions.

"Whoa there!" Morsa says as you crash into her at the end of training," You're all sweaty!"

She's right.

You are sweaty. Hair sticks to your forehead and your shirt to your skin. You're sure that you're all gross feeling but Morsa doesn't care as she hugs you back before ushering you into the car.

"How did it go?" Momma asks as she pulls out of the car park," Good? Bad?"

"Good!" You say, a grin splitting your face wide open.

"What did you do?" Morsa asks, turning in her seat to look at you.

"We played a little game," You answer, practically bouncing in excitement," So they could all see where we were at and the individual trainers laid out the plans for each week."

"Were there a lot of forwards?" Momma teases as she turns onto a road.

"Uh-huh. I was the only keeper though."

"That'll change," Morsa assures you," Those kids that haven't decided yet will end up cycling through everything. I'm sure one or two of them will be keepers."

"It's fine," You say," I'm not upset. I don't need other keepers."

Your mothers laugh softly.

"You still need to make friends," Momma says.

"I just want to train," You insist stubbornly.

"You can train and have friends too," Morsa puts in," In fact, I'd go so far as to say you need friends to train well. Promise me, princesse, that you'll make some friends."

You huff. "Fine," You say," I'll make friends."

"Good. Now, what did you want for dinner?"

[mochirimochi]

Somewhere Safe

William Afton X Reader

I wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit ok?

-This is now officially part 1 in a series!-

p1 ● p2 ● p3 ● p4

-----

You just need somewhere safe to hide from your abusive ex. Unfortunately for you, you're about to stumble into the arms of something much, much worse.

18+ Minors DNI.

~3700 words, no use of y/n

-----

cws: abusive relationships, degradation kink, breath play if you squint, smut, rough sex, EXTREMELY dubious concent, a sprinkle of spanking

You can also read on ao3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51567985

-----

Your arms shake as you push up the rusted steel door that separates the pizzeria from the outside world. Every clatter and rumble of the metal makes you flinch and sweep your eyes over the abandoned side lot. There shouldn’t be anyone out and about to catch you at this time of night, right? Regardless, your heart pounds as you force the heavy door up, inch by agonizing inch. As soon as you’ve made enough space for your body you toss your bag under and swiftly crouch to follow it. 

Breaking and entering is far from your typical Monday night activity, but circumstances have left you with little choice in the matter. You need somewhere you won’t be found, somewhere no one will think to look for you. A dilapidated former birthday attraction certainly fits the bill, you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned the place to your ex before and if you have he probably won’t remember anyways. 

You give the door a tug to close it behind you, flinching as it slams back down into the concrete, and pick your way through the broken glass of the entryway. The smell of mildew is heavy in the air, clawing at your lungs and making your eyes water. This place used to be so vibrant and full of joy once upon a time. You’ve attended many a birthday in the restaurant that stretches out in front of you, even had a few of your own. This place had always been a favorite of the local parents due to its… generous wine portions and the ability to outsource their children's supervision. As a result it had been a kids paradise, the ability to run wild while mom and dad got lost in the sauce on a Saturday afternoon? Few things could rival that sense of freedom for a kid. Ironic as it was considering what had come later, it had always been a place where you felt safe and happy. Maybe that was why you’d chosen the pizzeria when you needed to hide from your abusive boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now you suppose. It wasn’t like you had any plans to go back to the man after tonight. 

You give yourself a shake, attempting to bring yourself back to the moment at hand. This isn’t exactly the time to be spacing out after all, you’re technically committing a crime. Actually, there isn’t anything “technical” about it, you’re definitely breaking multiple laws right now. You shoulder your backpack and cast a glance toward the stage, it’s concealed behind a dusty red curtain but you can practically picture the animatronics behind it ready to jolt into song and dance just like they did years ago. You wonder if the owner removed them when he shut the place down. If you pull back the curtain will you find the shabby remains of your childhood heroes? You shiver, maybe it’s best not to find out.

If you remember correctly, the staff always entered and exited through a door next to the prize counter, maybe you’ll find a staff room with a couch through there. It seems like as promising an idea as any so you flick on your flashlight and make your way past the dining area and through the arcade. Sure enough, you’re greeted with a “staff only” sign and an unlocked door to boot. 

The hallway beyond is dark, lacking any of the color of the show floor. Interestingly, flickering yellow bulbs hang from the ceiling sporadically. The emergency power must still be on in this part of the building, you reason as you cautiously move through the hallway. You round a corner and let out a yelp as you collide with something huge, brown, and strangely soft. The impact knocks you off balance and you land rather gracelessly on your ass. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend what you’re looking at as your gaze travels upwards over pudgy brown legs and a round plush stomach.

“Fredbear?!” The exclamation comes out before you really have a chance to think. “How in the world did you get all the way over here?” Your heart, which has been about ready to leap out of your chest, slows as you take in the animatronic. It’s in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the rest of this place. You push yourself to your feet and take a few steps back. “I can’t believe they actually left you guys here, you’d think they’d have moved you. Poor guy, all this time stuck in this dingy old hallway.” 

It’s strange when you really think about it, who would leave him just standing in the bowels of the restaurant? It seems like an awfully strange place to just leave your star animatronic, rushed closure or not. After a moment, a distant memory of the animatronics being wired to wander through the pizzeria comes back to you, in fact now that you think about it you can remember getting a big warm hug or two from the Freddy animatronic. That would explain it, maybe his circuits got damaged over time and had triggered that unique function. 

“Sorry to bug you big guy, I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… needed somewhere safe.” Not for the first time that night you feel tears well in your eyes. “Nope, I am not going to cry over this. Not happening, you didn’t see me cry as a kid and you’re not gonna see it now.” You blink the tears away and the absurdity of your situation finally hits you. Not only are you hiding from your psycho ex and breaking the law for the first time in your life, but you’re also talking to a decrepit old robot like it can actually understand you. You heave a shaking sigh to ground yourself and pull your shoulders back. This might be your lowest moment but you refuse to let yourself wallow in it. With a determined huff you give Fredbear an affectionate pat on the arm before moving further into the building.

Before long you stumble across the staffroom, a long cluttered room with an extended plexi-glass window looking out into the hallway. Maybe at another time the window would serve to make the room feel brighter and bigger but now the dust covered plastic is shot through with a spider's web of cracks that barely allow you to see into the room. The door is unlocked though, and after a few quick shoves the warped wood releases its hold on the frame to allow you entry. Luckily, the room seems fairly well preserved and you spot a few dusty but intact couches pushed up against the wall. Jackpot. The exhaustion you’ve barely been keeping at bay all night hits you like a freight train and you lurch across the room to the couches. You collapse onto the nearest one, sending a fine cloud of dust into the air. You can’t bring yourself to care as you curled into a tight ball, finally letting sleep take you.

–

William watches the security cameras with curiosity as you wind your way through the building. Normally the animatronics would have taken care of any intruders well before they got to this point. This is new, novel even. He leans forward at his desk, squinting at the video feed in an attempt to get a better view. His jaw almost drops when you collapse onto the couch and fall still. Even through the grainy monitor he can tell that you’ve fallen asleep. What in the world is your deal? Who in their right mind would break into an abandoned establishment of dubious repute only to take a nap? He clasps his hands in thought as he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. This calls for a more… hands on investigation.

–

A tickling in your nose rouses you from your slumber and you begin to sneeze yourself awake with surprising force. You check your watch, barely 4 in the morning. You’ve only slept for an hour at most and exhaustion threatens to pull you back into sleep. It might too, if not for the insistent vibration of your phone in your pocket. You flip the cursed thing open without hitting the button to answer, bracing yourself for what you know you’ll see. 

Unsurprisingly, you’ve got 53 unread texts, 20 missed calls and 16 voicemails. You don’t need to check the contact info to know who they’re from. Against your better judgment you navigate to your sms messages and begin to read through the backlog when your phone finally stops buzzing. Some of the texts are pleading, others threatening. A few texts claim to “love you so much” and be “so fucking sorry”, while others rail at you “you fucking bitch” and “how dare you fucking run off like that?”. The messages paint a grim but unsurprising picture, a picture that’s unfortunately all too familiar. You raise your hand to the tender bruising that you know must be beginning to come to the surface on your neck before you navigate to your most recent voicemail. You flick on the speaker before staring into the green light of the screen. 

“Where the fuck are you, you fucking bitch?” You flinch as an angry voice fills the room. “You think you can fucking run away from me? You think you can fucking end shit? You’ve got another thing coming to you, used up fucking slut. The next time I lay eyes on you you’re fucking dead, you hear me? Run the fuck away from me again and see what happens. I’ll-” You don’t give the voicemail a chance to run its course. With a raw, frustrated scream you launch the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying clatter. The battery and casing skitter across the floor and the voicemail cuts out abruptly. Not satisfied with just cutting the bastard off you stomp across the room, still screaming, and smash your foot into the body of the phone. It gives with a satisfying crunch and you roar as you kick it for good measure, sending the now useless device across the room once again. All the fear and rage of the last few hours overcomes you and you let yourself scream until you run out of breath.

Suddenly a flash of something yellow through the hallway window catches your eye. You push your hair out of your face as you try to catch your breath, attempting to squint through the aged plexi-glass. A hulking, inhuman figure stands on the other side of the window, seeming to peer back at you. For a moment neither of you move, it seems to be taking you in as much as you’re taking it in. The strange standoff breaks when the figure, still indistinct through the dust and cracks in the glass, starts to move slowly and methodically towards the staffroom door.

Finally your brain springs into action. Shit. Whatever that is, it’s not good. You sweep your eyes frantically around the room, weighing your options. Any windows to the outside are boarded up, and the only door in or out is the one the massive yellow figure is making its way towards. The only viable option seems to be to take the defensive. There’s a tiny kitchenette against the wall, and you rush towards it in desperation. Frantically, you yank open the drawers in search of anything you might use to protect yourself. The best you can come up with is a wooden spoon. In another situation that might be laughable, but you can’t take a moment to consider how absurd you look brandishing a wooden spoon like a sword. The rattle of the doorknob tells you that you’re out of time.

Whatever you had expected to be on the other side of that door it certainly wasn’t a massive yellow rabbit suit. It’s huge, so large that it has to duck to get its ears under the door frame. As it tilts its head to take you in, your blood runs cold. You hold your ground as the thing stalks closer, its movements slow and deliberate as it moves towards you. 

In a moment of desperation you launch yourself forward, attempting to dodge around the looming figure and make a dash for freedom. You don’t have a chance. A pair of strong arms wrap roughly around your waist, jerking you back with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. Your makeshift weapon clatters to the floor. A dark chuckle rumbles from the depths of the suit as a hand drags its way from your waist and up your chest to grab your chin.

“What. Have. We. Here?” The voice that comes from the suit is deep, taunting, and undoubtedly mascuine. He punctuates the last word with a rough but controlled yank, pulling your chin up and your head back into his chest. You whimper as it strains your already aching neck. With your head tipped back you can see the yellow rabbit head looming above you and it tilts to the side again as if in curiosity. “I asked you a question.”

“I-I-...” You can barely get your mouth to move and you lick your lips in a desperate attempt to draw words from them. Your obvious fear draws a satisfied hum from the depths of the suit and the hand on your waist tightens noticeably. The hand on your jaw however, disappears. You pull in a shaky gasp and buck your head forward in an attempt to build up enough momentum to break free. The vice-like grip on your waist is unaffected and your captor grunts in amusement. 

A rustling above your head draws your attention and you look up to realize that the hand that had just been holding your jaw captive is running along the neck of the suit. With a single, deft movement the head of the suit comes off and your captors face is revealed. There’s an almost rugged handsomeness to his mature features, graying stubble covering his cheeks and eyes that in another life may have looked almost kind. The expression he’s peering down at you with now is anything but kind or gentle though. There’s a hunger there, and a barely suppressed rage. He places the head on a nearby table and returns his hand to your jaw. With agonizing languidness he leans forward and presses his lips to your ear.

“Who gave you permission to sleep in my restaurant?” 

You gasp as his stubble rasps against your jaw and his hot breath ghosts across your face. 

“I’m sorry. I just needed a place to stay. I’ll leave right now. I’ll-”

He cuts you off. “A place to stay, huh?” His lips are still brushing against your ear and despite yourself you feel a chill run down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that absolute delight of a man on the other side of the phone, would it?”

“He’ll kill me.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth you know they’re true. Honestly, you’re lucky to have survived him this long.

“Oh, little mouse, what makes you think I won’t?” The grip on your jaw releases for a moment and you hear something fall to the floor. When it returns it’s a very warm, very human hand that takes its place. His other hand briefly lets go to do the same and you can feel his nails digging into your flesh as he presses you against him. 

“Please.” It’s barely more than a whimper as the hand at your jaw dips to circle your neck. “I just needed somewhere safe.”

“And you chose here? Bad luck.” He presses his nose to your jaw and draws in a deep, ragged breath. “But you know, we might be able to work something out.” The hand at your waist begins to travel, burrowing its way under the hem of your shirt before splaying wide across your stomach. His long fingers barely brush the underside of your bra but you feel the heat of them as if there’s no fabric to separate you. “I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you put out in the cold.”

“Anything.”

–

William can barely contain himself. The feeling of your trembling body in his arms is oh so delicious and your intoxicating scent floods his nose, every breath sending a thrill through him. You’re so soft, so malleable, so utterly breakable. It’s brilliant. 

Using one hand to keep you pinned against him he uses the other to work his way out of the suit with practiced skill. Initially he’d just wanted to watch you, figure out the enigma that was your survival after breaking into his restaurant. Normally people don’t last for more than a few minutes. But you’d dithered around, chatted up his ace in the hole, and then taken a nap? He couldn’t contain his curiosity.

The phone call had derailed his plan and given him an idea. Sure, he had planned on killing you once he’d solved your mystery but maybe there were other things you could be useful for. There was something captivating about you, and the perfect leverage had just fallen straight into his lap. 

He makes quick work of the suit, and soon he’s reveling in the feeling of your body against his. 

“Anything?” He asks, stroking his thumb gently over your jugular before giving your throat a controlled squeeze. Your startled gasp is almost enough to send him reeling. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little mouse.”

–

This is wrong. Everything about this situation is wrong.

And yet, your body seems to have some of its wires crossed because it is not getting the message. The only thing you should be feeling right now is fear, and sure, there’s a very healthy dose of that tying your guts in knots but beyond that there’s an underlying current of heat. None of what’s happening should be causing your core to tighten, and the goose bumps forming on your neck should be from terror.

But they’re not.

His hand drifts up even further, pushing your bra up and out of the way to capture the smooth skin of your breast in his hand. You can’t help it, you roll your hips back into his, pushing against the hardness that’s growing there at an almost alarming pace. He growls behind you, pulling you even closer to grind against your ass.

“So that’s how it is?” His voice in your ear is even deeper now, heavy with lust as he gives your breast a hard squeeze. Even you’re surprised when you let out a wanton moan. “Imagine such a dirty fucking slut falling right into my lap.” His words have you clenching around nothing and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel conflicted about your body's reaction. He releases your breast and his hand burns a trail down to the top of your jeans, he flicks the button open with ease and slowly undoes your zipper. Then he stops, his hand ghosts over the crotch of your jeans before it stills. You let out a needy whimper that you barely recognize as your voice.

“Beg for it, little mouse.”

You groan, canting your hips forward in a desperate search for pressure. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

His control seems to snap and he spins you around before shoving you across the room and face down into the couch, barely giving you time to yelp in surprise. He pulls your hips into the air before yanking down your jeans and panties in one harsh motion. The animalistic groan that escapes him at the sight of your dripping pussy sends a shock of arousal through you. He grabs a globe of your ass in each hand, digging his fingers in so hard that you gasp. His nails bite in deep enough that you’re sure they’ll draw blood. 

“God, look at you.” He grunts, releasing your ass and stepping back as if to admire the view. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle and wiggle in anticipation. “What a fucking freak you are, so fucking wet and ready for a strange man in an abandoned building.” He lifts his hand and lands a stinging blow on your ass. You flinch and yelp at the unexpected pain and he does it again on the other cheek. “Dirty slut.” The sting brings tears to your eyes, but it also causes your arousal to coil even tighter in your abdomen. 

Suddenly and without warning he grabs your hips and slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. You scream as he stretches you, your channel burning around his thick cock. “Take it.” He grunts, slamming into you. All you can do is whimper in response as he sets a punishing pace, thrusting into you again and again. The burn eventually melts into a building and rising heat that threatens to sweep you away. 

Your scalp stings as he tangles his fist in your hair and yanks your head back, changing the angle so that he drives impossibly deeper into you with every stroke. Any train of thought you may have been able to carry is lost as he bombards you with pleasure. Your eyes roll back as your hands desperately grip the couch cushions. A few more thrusts and you’re coming undone, screaming out your release. He follows close behind you, letting go of your hair to grab your hips again. His fingers bite into you as he pulls you back against him, trapping you to him as he fills you. 

“Fuck.” He grunts, his voice raw and his hands trembling at your hips. You both still for a moment and your brain finally starts to realize what you’ve just done. But in the throbbing, warm throes of your afterglow you can’t seem to bring yourself to care how truly fucked up this situation is. When he finally releases his vice-like grip on your hips you groan at the loss of contact.

The chuckle that he gives is warmer than any of the others so far, and he gives your ass a final squeeze that you could almost consider affectionate before he steps away.

“Yes, I think we’ve come to a satisfying agreement.”

-----

I don't know what came over me last night, but this was the result. I've never written smut before, but I sure have read a lot so hopefully it's enjoyable.

[antianakin]

I watched Dune: Part Two over the weekend, and I came to realize something: Anakin Skywalker has a lot in common with Paul Atreides, and none of them are good.

Funnily enough, I was also making comparisons between Dune and Star Wars when I saw it this weekend, but more positively. Not necessarily specifically between Paul and Anakin, but in the ways the two stories subverted the Chosen One storyline.

In Star Wars, Anakin is the Chosen One and it IS a good thing, but it's not INEVITABLE unless Anakin chooses it. He HAS to make the choice to be a good, balanced, selfless person in order to achieve the perfect prophecized ending. It is impossible to achieve it through brute force of will or selfish agendas.

In Dune (based purely on the story in the films, I have not read the books so I cannot speak to what the story was in there if it's different), Paul is the Chosen One by design of other mortal people around him, he is the Chosen One because they CREATED a Chosen One through specific breeding and manipulation of cultures and religions. They literally achieve their prophecized ending through brute force, Paul becomes a messiah by forcing himself to ride a sand worm, by killing and defeating the opposing forces on the planet, by using Fremen as weapons in a holy war, by drinking poison and coming out of it alive. The subversion here isn't in how the prophecized ending is achieved, but in how it was CREATED and the fact that achieving it is a BAD THING.

Anakin chooses to DEFY his destiny out of selfishness while Paul chooses to GIVE IN to his destiny out of selflessness, and then they both end up villains as a result. Both of them made their own choices, but were also manipulated onto this path by forces they couldn't control and people they should've been able to trust. They're both left feeling like they're out of choices and so the only one left is the one they KNOW is bad.

But I find myself somewhat more able to sympathize with Paul because he tries SO HARD throughout the entire film to keep this from happening, he knows exactly what's going to happen if it does, and in the end, he's just outplayed basically. He'll never be a match for the greater forces at play until he becomes one of them, and at that point he's lost in every way that matters. It's a completely lose-lose situation for Paul the way I saw it. Even with the visions, Paul has had multiple visions come true before he has the one about the holy war, and has a lot more reason to believe that it's true due to Jessica's training. And it felt like when he drank that poison that some part of Paul almost literally did die, that someone else came back to life in some ways and that's part of the whole tragedy. He's almost possessed by the powers around him by the time he declares himself Emperor.

The same is DEMONSTRABLY not true for Anakin. Anakin walks into the darkness with his eyes open and his head held high because he believes HE ALONE will benefit from it. There's no selflessness in this choice in any way shape or form. He has had ONE VISION come true that we know of before he gets the dream about Padme and the Jedi notoriously do not believe visions to be all that trustworthy to begin with, so all of his training tells him that just because ONE vision came true still doesn't mean that THIS one is true and even if it were, he can't trust that any action he takes to keep it from happening will actually have that result. But he's selfish and greedy enough to try anyway, to discard everything he's ever been taught, for power. He convinces himself that doing this makes him a hero, that murdering the Jedi, down to the last child, makes him a hero. There's no evidence that doing what he's doing will save Padme, or that Padme would even WANT him to do this to save her. He's not truly outplayed, he had all the tools at his disposal to make the better choice in that moment in Palpatine's office, he's just not a good enough person to make it. He IS a match for the greater forces at play in terms of power, he and Mace could've EASILY killed Palpatine together if only Anakin had chosen the better path. He just... chooses not to because it doesn't benefit him to do so. Anakin could've won, in every way that mattered. He only loses because he makes the stupidest choice imaginable.

Dune is a political sci fi epic about how people in power will literally create messiahs for the people they intend to subject as a way to consolidate their own power.

Star Wars is a children's cautionary tale wrapped in an space opera adventure about how letting your fears control you will bring about your own destruction, and only kindness and selflessness will save the world.

It's not exactly a secret that Lucas was inspired by Dune when coming up with Star Wars, so I find it really interesting to look at the similarities and differences in how they each approached their Chosen One storylines.

[cecilxa]

lasting childhood dream/sweetly shared future

summary: ever since you were little, alhaitham knew what he wanted.

contents: childhood friends!au, fluff, ambiguous relationship at the end (although implied romantic), gn!reader (they/them pronouns used), soft soft alhaitham

cw: food

wc: 1k

a/n: so so sorry for the slow updates :') things will (hopefully !) be picking up momentum again 🤞

“Hey, Haitham.”

Your high-pitched voice calls out to him. He chooses to ignore it. 

“Hey! Haitham! Are you purposely ignoring me cause you wanna read? Again?”

A crease forms at his eyebrows–an action that a nine-year-old should never have gotten used to as often as he did–and his hands tighten around the pages of his book. You always did this. Nearly every day, you would choose to sit next to him. He can’t even remember when it started, but soon enough, you had proclaimed him your ‘best friend for life’. 

For a child prodigy like Alhaitham, it’s extraordinary how he has no idea why you’ve chosen him to be your designated play partner. You don’t even play like the other kids. He just sits there, reading his book, and you sit there with him, chatting incessantly about whatever it is you want–not like he cares, anyway. (It was food on Monday, an interesting flower you found on Tuesday, and food again on Wednesday.)

He’s never asked you why, and you’ve stuck with him long enough for him to be satisfied with not knowing. It’s not like he’s not curious; he just finds his books more interesting. 

“Well, since you’re not answering, I guess I’ll just find someone else to play with!” 

You harrumph, turning your head away. However, since you don’t make any move to physically get up, Alhaitham doesn’t look up from the slightly-yellowed pages that he hasn't noticed he's crinkling. 

But then, the unthinkable happens. Legs that were previously lounging beside him begin to unfold and rise, a shadow forming over his head. It takes him the time for you to fully stand up for him to comprehend what was happening. His crease deepens further. 

“Wait.”

On instinct, one of his hands that was holding onto his book clasps onto yours, his head bowed down. His fringe hides his face, which, for once–however annoying it may be–he’s grateful for, as it means you can’t see the blush readily spreading across his cheeks. Pretending to be more interested in dragon fights and swordsmanship, he all but whispers. 

“Stay. I like it better when you’re here.”

Your eyes lighten up, and a large smile breaks out across your face. 

“I like it when you’re with me too! And I wasn’t actually gonna leave you. I just wanted to get us some sweets!” 

“Oh.”

If he wasn’t already thankful for his fringe, he definitely is now, what with the embarrassment he’s being forced to endure. You can still probably see his ears, which he can feel burning up. Not replying, he lets go of your hand–almost abruptly–and lets you skip away to the local sweets vendor that always exudes a sugary smell. 

He watches you all the way. The sun’s shining brightly on your skin, making it glow. Your toothy grin still pervades his mind, and he can feel the blush on his cheeks that never seems to go away whenever you’re around. Or maybe that’s the heat. But then why is his heart doing backflips? And why do those backflips increase in speed when he looks down at the hand that was held in yours? He thinks that they fit perfectly, like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, and (as much as he doesn’t want to admit it) that he wants you to be around him. 

“Stupid thoughts. I only tolerate them because they’re my only friend.”

He chooses to ignore the other thought that his heart seems to tell. 

“They’re my only friend. But I don’t mind, because I really only care about them.”

After a few minutes, you come back with that same toothy grin, carrying an assortment of sweet treats for the both of you to devour in only a few seconds. They all blend together into a saccharine scent. 

“Look, try this one, Haitham! The person said it was a new flavour!”

He accepts it immediately, taking it gently from your hand and putting it into his mouth. It explodes with flavour–nutty and aromatic, nothing like the sugary syrup of the others. A small and satisfied smile creeps onto his face, his eyes failing to hide his delight. It does get stuck, however, as he tries to get parts of it dislodged from the gaps in his teeth. A giggle interrupts him.

“Haitham, you look really funny! Y’know, I want to have a sweet shop when we’re grown up so that I can make all the sweets you want! Then we can have fun together even when we have to do grown-up, boring stuff.”

You remember to be considerate, and turn to him.

“What about you, Haitham? What do you wanna be when you’re grown up?”

–

Alhaitham doesn’t remember exactly what he said after. Probably a scholar. All he can remember is younger him staring blatantly, mouth gaping open at your questioning eyes, and his heart pounding at your mention of ‘we’. The realisation that you felt the same way as him left him astounded. In that moment, he felt something bloom in his chest, something that he’s carried all these years. 

Although he’s not sure whether you ever fully understood how much of a soft spot he had for you. You never even noticed how his headphones were always on the ground, rather than on his head, whenever you were around. 

Now, reading his book peacefully, he looks down at his lap and allows himself to smile. You’re going to wake up with a sore neck if he keeps you in this position for much longer, but just for a moment, he wants to admire you. 

Alhaitham strokes your hair tenderly, moving it out of your face, nimble fingers caressing your jawline. His eyes soften. How much you’ve meant to him. The years that he’s known you for don’t compare to the amount of gazes he’s thrown your way, so full of youthful longing and yearning. Because ever since you said ‘we’, he’s been able to answer your question. Maybe not in the exact same way he did all those years ago, but an answer that’s been stewing for every year after. 

“When I grow up, I want to be by your side.”

a/n: he’s grown on me i can’t lie 😔 enemies to lovers though 😍😍 likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated !! 🩷🩷 (pink heart for iOS finally!)

[hyunsvngs]

READ PART 1 FIRST!

turn to your right

Turning to your right, you don’t think anything particularly interesting is going to happen. It appears to be just a path leading towards another clearing in the woods, but the random sheets of metal intrigue you. Has someone been working on something here? You want to know what is going on. Why are you here? Why have you been sent here, and why did you pick this way? 

The leaves crunch underneath your boots, ensuring that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak around if you tried. Sharp brambles like knives are obscuring your vision, and you attempt to push them out the way, only finding that it leaves tiny slashes up the skin of your arms. Strangely, it doesn’t feel as though it hurts - the only sign that anything had happened is the sight of crimson blood blooming on your skin. Sighing, you continue on, hoping to finally reach something at the end of the winding path. 

It isn’t even a path, so to speak - you’re not sure you’re actually going to end up anywhere with the lack of markings on the road. 

Until you notice the tinkering, clanging noises are getting louder. There’s a light at the end of the path, glowing yet flickering in an unstable manner and you wince, pushing the brambles out of the way so that you can finally exit the route you’d chosen. 

You gasp at what you see, hand slapping over your mouth to quiet your noise. There’s an alien standing there, pale blue antennas poking out of dark navy hair. He’s got his back to you, clad in a white shirt and baggy white trousers. You wonder how they’re so immaculate considering he seems to have been here for so long, and he’s working on what looks to be a spaceship. You’d never seen one up close before, and you stand in awe, eyes fixated on the alien. He looks weirdly human, from what you can see - tinkering away with a tiny hammer, and his cheeks puffing out in frustration when you see him from the side. His skin is light blue and looks to be glimmering, twinkling every so often when the moonlight bounces off of the spaceship just right.

You were sure he didn’t know what he was doing, and you wanted to help, for some weird reason - but your mouth was moving and you were saying something before you could even process what it was. “Alien. You’re a fucking alien.” 

“Alien?!” The man - thing? - jumps, turning to look at you. His voice is deep, and his eyes are completely pitch black - even the area that would normally be white. His legs are quivering where he’s sat on the ship. He squeals, pointing at you. “Don’t just stand there! Where’s the alien?!”

You blink, letting out a shocked laugh. “You. You’re an alien.”

He looks down at his skin, still clutching the tiny hammer in one hand. He looks at the spaceship, then turns back to you, lips twitching with a smile. “Well, yes. I thought you meant there was another one. Hey, have you seen my dog?”

“Your… dog?” You question, head tilting to the side. The alien nods, motioning at a metal food bowl on the floor. It reads ‘Fluffy’, in all capitals, and the F’s have all been written backwards. It looks to be written in shaky Sharpie. You try to suppress a smile.  

“I haven’t seen him for a while,” He explains, frowning at the bowl. “He’s black and slimy, bigger than me. His name is Fluffy, and he’s the best dog, but I’m not sure he likes me that much.” 

“Oh,” You say intelligently. “I’ll let you know if I find him. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jisung,” He finally hops off of the top of his spaceship, walking towards you with an outstretched hand. He’s taller than you, but not by much - and he’s strikingly beautiful. His skin does glimmer, especially when he’s closer to you. “Do you wanna see my spaceship?”

You nod. Was that an euphemism? You guess you’ll just have to find out, and Jisung leads you into his spaceship. It looks rather small from outside, and you obediently duck through the door when he does before you. It’s definitely bigger on the inside, random lights glinting on a control panel in front of a large glass window. Jisung looks proud, a broad smile on his face. You make sure to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at appropriate moments, nodding in approval at the scenery. 

It is kind of uncanny, everything a bright gleaming white and almost blinding you. He even has a bed in here, you note, large and four-poster with white sheets tucked neatly in the corners. It is so clean. 

“How long have you been here?” You ask, and his antennas twitch in response. He frowns, absentmindedly scratching his arm with his hand. 

“I’m not sure,” He admits, blinking around at the walls. His eyes lock on a stack of board games in the corner, next to a stack of tins of dog food. How does he even have that? “I crashed here, and I’ve had to remake my spaceship. It’s kind of strange. It’s Earth, but… it’s not. It’s not Earth. How did you end up here?”

You shrug. “I’m not sure. I woke up here, and my watch broke hours ago. I don’t really know where I am or how to get out, if I’m honest.”

Jisung stalks towards his bed, flopping on his back. His toes curl in his boots, and he kicks them off with a huff, revealing his feet clad in pristine white socks. He blinks, leaning up to look at you. He’s weirdly human for an alien, if you ignore the blue skin and the antennas that keep twitching every time you speak. 

“It’s not too bad here,” He says, hand fiddling with the white duvet. “I have a dog! There’s a fairy here, too. He’s really pretty, but- but you’re prettier.”

He’s embarrassed, you realise. If he wasn’t blue, you’d be able to see a blush on his cheeks. His antennas droop regardless, his bottom lip pouting as he avoids eye contact with you. In a moment of realisation, you shove your boots off too, walking over to join him on the bed. 

“I’ve never seen an alien before,” You admit, pulling your knees up to your chest. Jisung mirrors you, pulling himself up onto his lap to stare into your eyes. They’re quivering, uncertain. “I think you’re pretty cool. You’re blue.”

“We all are,” Jisung huffs, but he stretches his arms out nonetheless to let you see his skin. It’s as if there’s a million lines of computer code within him, making up his entire being - yet he’s still so human. He’s so much like you, uncertain and a little shy but still talking a bit too much. “My race is, anyway. I’ve never seen a human before.”

You copy him, stretching your bare arms out. His fingers run over your skin tentatively, raising goosebumps in their wake and you bristle when he touches over the cuts on your skin. He hums, running his thumb over one. 

“You’re cool,” He blurts, and then he’s holding your hand. He’s looking at you with earnest, black eyes wide. “Humans are pretty cool. I think so, at least. You’re really pretty. You’re even prettier than the fairy boy.”

You giggle, clutching his hand tighter. “You’re pretty too, Jisung. You’re very handsome. Do you not have a sweet alien girlfriend back home?”

Jisung shakes his head adamantly, creeping closer to you. “Nope. I have no one back home, apart from my parents. It’s been just me since I crashed here.”

“It must have been lonely,” You murmur. Are you… hitting on him right now? You are. You so are, and he’s going along with it, judging by the way his lips are slightly parted. His teeth are perfect, jutting out just a little but so white and straight. His antennas stick stark upright. You decide to continue, wanting to see more of his shocked expressions. “It must have been so lonely, Jisung. How did you manage all on your own?”

“I have my hand,” He blurts, blinking down at where his hand is still wrapped around yours. “Unless that’s not what you meant.”

“It is what I meant,” You coo, running your thumb over the back of his hand. Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re climbing into his lap, and he’s letting you. His hands move to your waist, eyes blinking up at you with shock. He’s so cute like this, puffy cheeks and wet, parted lips. “Do you miss having sex, Jisung?”

“I- I guess, I d’no,” His chest is heaving. He’s surprised, but he enjoys it, judging by the way his fingernails are digging into your skin through your shirt. “It does get hard, just touching myself all the time. Especially since - okay, don’t freak out. Please don’t freak out.”

You hum, running your fingernails over his antennas. He shivers with the touches. Are they sensitive? “I’m not going to freak out, baby. Tell me.”

“I have two dicks,” He whimpers when you pinch the tip of his right antenna between two fingers. He… what? It’s your turn to part your lips, a shocked breath of air coming out of you. You’re wet just from knowing that, alarmingly so. “It’s- it’s an alien thing, higher chance of breeding or whatever. So it goes in both holes, and they’re lubed, so-”

“Show me,” You command, shifting off of his lap. Jisung gasps.

“Just- just like that? You wanna see? Please, it’s gonna freak you out-”

“Jisung,” You insist, and he quivers. He likes that. He shifts backwards, and then he pulls his trousers down. He’s not wearing underwear, you notice, and he definitely does have two dicks. His first length is shorter, thicker and veinier, perfectly crafted to fit inside your pussy and drive you insane. The second one beneath the first is longer, still quite thick but not matching the first one, curved deliciously to fit inside of your asshole. His balls are heavy beneath them both, no doubt holding a lot of cum to ensure he bred you full. They’re both darker than the rest of him, a deeper blue like an ocean, entrancing to your eyes. You manage to drag your gaze away from the thick mushroom heads of his cocks for long enough to gauge his expression.

“You think it’s weird, right?” He’s embarrassed, but his erection - erections haven’t gotten a slight bit softer, still rock hard against his pubic bone. 

“Absolutely not,” You say, licking your lips. They’re dry all of a sudden. Jisung turns to you, laying flat against the bed with his dicks still out, so hard and upright. You needed them. “I don’t think it’s weird. I’m so wet right now, baby, I need to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Jisung whimpers, nodding, and then you’re straddling him again. You ensure you’re towards his thighs more, trying not to interfere with either of his erections just yet. He leans up on his forearms, and the movement results in him being a mere few inches away from you. His lips are pursed, as if he’s considering something, mind running amok.

You kiss him before he can think about whatever it is too much. His lips are soft, supple and a darker shade of blue against yours. He moans into the kiss, deep and gravelly, and your hands move to his hair again. Brushing over his antennas makes him shift underneath you, and then he pushes his tongue into your mouth. It’s dirty, wet and messy against your lips and you keen wildly against him, sucking his tongue between your lips.

He pulls away, his antennas drooping against your fingers. “I don’t just wanna kiss you. I wanna see you, please, please, let me see you. I’m not above begging, you know!”

He’s so earnest it makes you laugh, and you slip your t-shirt over your head. Jisung stares at your chest with wild, wide eyes, his erections jerking beneath your body. You’re quick to get rid of your bra too, exposing your dusky, hard nipples to the cold air inside the spaceship. 

You jolt when Jisung sucks one of your nipples into your mouth, his hands moving to cup your ass. He’s moving your hips, you realise, grinding you into the lower, longer erection. It makes you whimper, his tongue swirling around your nipple like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He even moans into your skin, hands splaying across your asscheeks and gripping into the skin tightly.

“I need you,” He moans, teeth catching your nipple just slightly. “I need you so bad, you’re so pretty. Such a pretty human, please. My cocks are so fucking hard for you, baby.”

“I can see,” You muse, moving your hands from his hair to wrap both fists around them, one in each hand. Squeezing them permits drops of precum onto your fingers, and he throws his head back, groaning. “I need you too. I need you, Jisung. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”

You’re not lying. He really is beautiful, his skin tender and glittering like sequins beneath your eyes. He grunts at your words, letting out a few exhales at the feeling of your hands wrapped around him. Before you know it, he’s swatting your hand away, flipping you over and kissing down your body. 

Jisung’s tongue runs down your nipples once again, and then his hands are making quick work of your trousers. He pops the button out of the clasp, yanking the zipper down and almost ripping them in the process of getting them off of your legs. Your underwear is revealed then, a simple cotton with a pale pink bow at the top centre, but Jisung’s eyes tell you he honestly believes you hung the damn moon. 

His antennas are stiff and upright when he finally presses his face to your centre, inhaling deeply. He whines, his tongue darting out to lick over the fabric. You let your thighs fall apart, running one hand through his soft, dark navy hair. He’s so pretty between your legs like that.

“You’re ovulating,” He murmurs, running one thumb over your clothed clit. “You’re fertile. It always tastes so much better when the pussy’s fertile.”

“Eaten a lot of pussy, Sungie?” You quip, but he simply smiles, teeth jutting out from his lips and eyes forming crescent moons.

“I’ll show you and you can guess the answer,” he suggests, and you nod, grinning. His thumbs hook into your underwear, pulling them down your legs and throwing them to wherever he threw your trousers. You lean back, preparing yourself against the sheets and staring at the crisp white ceiling. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his tongue. Jisung licks over your clit, quick little kitten licks that make you keen. His tongue is pointed, almost sharp against your folds. He only moans at your reaction, thumbs moving to part your folds and reveal your hole. You’re almost dripping from the sight of his two cocks, and Jisung licks up the wetness you’ve accumulated, tongue dipping into your hole just slightly.

“That’s it, that’s it,” You babble, hands locking into his hair. He whimpers into your folds at the praise, his body almost vibrating in between your legs as he licks up your core. He’s messy, imprecise, but you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Oh, baby, you’re so good at that.”

“Mmhm,” Jisung mumbles, muffled by your folds. The vibrations send shocks through you, leaving your toes curling in your socks. He pulls your legs up by your upper thighs, and then your legs are on his shoulders while he eats you out, fully pliant against his bed for him. You moan in response, pushing your hips up to his face. His hands are gentle as they hold your hips in place, his tongue exploring every inch of you. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart in his mouth, and Jisung's movements become more urgent.

He pulls away all of a sudden, but he’s quick to slide two slender digits inside of you, curling them up towards a spot you never even knew you had. “Do you think you’ll cum for me, baby? Please? For me?”

“Yes,” You whine, nodding. “Yes, yes, I will, suck my clit again, please-”

You’re cut off by your own wail when he takes your clit between his lips again, tongue tapping on the button underneath your clitoral hood. It’s much more sensitive like this, and combined with his fingers curling against that spot inside you… well, you’re done for. You cum with a shake and a high pitched, embarrassing moan, fingers digging into Jisung’s scalp almost painfully. He moans against your clit anyway, eyes looking impossibly darker while you come apart in his mouth, grinding your hips against his tongue.

He pulls his fingers out when you’ve finished, one hand settling on your hips to soothe you through the aftershocks. He sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, the bottom half of his face covered in your juices and leaving him looking a cool hue of shiny blue. 

“Mm, so sweet. I was right,” He looks like the cat who got the cream, and you groan, playfully kicking his shoulder. He blinks down at you and then he’s gasping, eyes fixated on something below your pussy. “I didn’t eat your ass! I didn’t even prep it. Okay, you can only take one dick today or-”

You grab him by the wrists, yanking him over you. He squeals in shock before he’s sighing at the feeling of his cockhead running through your pussy lips. He’s so easily distracted. It’s cute. “Push it in. I don’t care, you said they’re lubed. I want both of them.”

Jisung gasps, shaking his head. “It’ll hurt. Baby, it’ll hurt you, and I never wanna hurt you.”

“Put them both in, Jisung, or I’m not giving you anything,” You demand, and then you’re pulling your legs up to your chest. The position has both slick cockheads pressing at your holes, and he whimpers before he’s nodding impatiently. You watch as he rips his t-shirt off of his upper body by the back collar, throwing it aside. His shoulders are broad, seamlessly transitioning into a tiny, slender waist and toned biceps. He positions your knees on his shoulders, seemingly ignoring your ogling at his body. Oh. It’ll be deep like this. Almost like he’s trying to-

“I wanna breed you like this,” Jisung whimpers, using one hand to position his first cock at your pussy. “Can I? Please, baby, please. Lemme breed you, let me, please, I’ve been good makin’ you cum, and-”

“Breed me,” You sigh, eyes almost rolling back into your head. He nods, and then his cock is pushing inside you, raw and unprotected. The first shaft is veiny, thick against your already fluttering walls. Before you have a chance to adjust, his second cock breaches against your asshole. The slide is lubed like he said it would be, but the stretch still makes you suck in a sharp breath of air. You can’t deny it feels fucking amazing. 

“Baby. Oh, my baby, my baby,” He’s babbling, hips rocking steadily against yours. It is deep like this, with your knees pushed up on his shoulders, and it looks like you’re not the only one that’s finding it hard to handle. “You’re so tight, fuckin’- shit, shit, baby, can I move? Can I fuck you properly, please, I’m gonna fucking blow.”

“Do all aliens have such dirty mouths?” You giggle, fingers digging into the sheets. Jisung huffs, antennas drooping with embarrassment. He’s trying so hard to stop moving his hips, trying to wait for the green light, and you feel bad for him. “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Be a good boy.”

Jisung gasps, nodding, and then he’s fucking you. He’s fucking into you like a rabbit, hips slamming against your ass with every thrust. You’re not faring any better. He’s so good at this, so good at using his hips to please you, and you can’t handle the sensation of being full like this. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to fuck anyone else again, man or woman. 

His cocks are both thick inside you, and you feel so stretched. The lubed appendages ensure that the spaceship is now being filled with wet, slick noises upon every thrust, and Jisung’s whining against your neck, his head dropping into the crook of your skin. 

“‘S so good, so good,” Jisung’s voice is high pitched, and you coo, your own breath shaky when you run your fingers over his antennas again. You feel his cocks twitch inside you at the sensation, against the deepest spots inside of you. “I don’t think I’m gonna last, I w’na cum inside so bad, please, baby, please.”

You whine, canting your hips up into his. “I’m not gonna last long, Sungie, just a bit more. I promise, baby, just a bit more, can you hang on for me?”

Jisung nods, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips move mindlessly. His hips are pressing against yours with each thrust, and you can feel every inch of his hard erections inside of you. You moan in pleasure as he continues to move in and out of you, his pace increasing with each thrust. 

“Baby, baby, please. Cum for me, cum for your baby boy, please,” His breathing is ragged and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart for him for the second time, no doubt about to soak his cocks thoroughly. You both gasp and moan in unison, your hands gripping Jisung’s biceps and your ass pushing back against his hips. You feel like you're about to fall apart, and Jisung is loving every moment of it, judging by the blissed out grin on his face. 

The pleasure is overwhelming and you feel yourself reaching your second orgasm, toes curling in your socks. You cum with a full body quiver, pussy clenching impossibly tighter around his cocks and then Jisung wails, his head dropping closer to you and nipping at your skin.

“G’na- gonna cum, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” He’s babbling, letting out tiny little ‘ah’s with every thrust and making you gasp at the overstimulation. After half a dozen more movements, his hips finally still, and then he’s filling you up. The amount of his cum shocks you, oozing and gushing out of both of your tight holes and staining his pristine white sheets. It spills out around his cocks, and he looks down at your core, groaning at the sight. He pulls out just to slap his cockhead on your clit once, smearing the cum around, and then he collapses by your side. 

You let him pull you into his chest, his lips kissing your hairline chastely. Your own hand moves to run your fingernails down his chest. “That was so good. You are fuckin’ amazing, so pretty.”

“What now?” You huff, head pressed against his pecs. You’re entranced by drawing shapes on his skin, the way the hearts you draw turn white before they fade away. 

“Well, forgive me if I’m being too forward, but… how would you like to come home with me?”

You gasp, leaning up to look at him. He’s biting his lip nervously. “Jisung, this spaceship works?!”

Jisung scoffs. “Yeah! I haven’t just been working on it for nothing, baby. It’s fully functional.”

“You’re kidding me,” You giggle, slapping his chest playfully. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

wc: 3.9k

sw: alien jisung who has two cocks, cum, breeding kink, oral (f!rec), unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, sub jisung maybe

a/n: ITS HEREEEE I HOPE UR ALL SURPRISED N GO CRAZY AND ALSO INSANE <3 - juno

[the-book-gnome]

Is that so?

Word count: 5.5k

Pairings: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity, slight mention of blood, p in v, fingering, creaming, multiple orgasms, pain implied, praise kink, belly bulge, penetration, unprotected sex, f!reader, petnames (sweetheart)

18+ only ! minors do not interact !

You always wished you were more of a private person. More shielded and not as easy to read. But unfortunately for you, that was not the case, and now everyone knows. You didn’t even say anything about the matter but people could easily tell by the way you acted around him. At first, they thought you were just nervous being around someone so dangerous but after they caught on to the fact that you couldn't meet his eyes and every time he spoke you blushed.

You were fine with other people knowing, you never actually told them so they were just assuming but then soap had just so happened to accidentally tell Ghost. When Soap told you you just drugged and told him it doesn't matter because you don’t have feelings for him but Soap didn’t look at all convinced.

You had been doing everything in your power not to go on the next mission, making up excuses or lying. You got out of the last one but you were ordered to be on the next. You were one of the most experienced medics on the base and they needed you.

———

The task force was sent to Russia for a mission. There was nothing to do but wait until it was light out, so everyone was sitting inside one of the tents. There were a few battery-operated heaters placed around but that hardly did anything to keep everyone warm. The only person who seemed to be unaffected by the cold was Ghost.

Perhaps he didn’t hear when Soap told him about how you felt, he treated you the same as before, which was upsetting. The only time Ghost spoke to you was when he needed help with his injuries and even then he only said a word or two. A part of you had hoped he would acknowledge you more, but of course, he didn’t.

The men were talking in a huddled circle when soap said something that caught your attention. “Yeah it’s blows, I guess you and I are sleeping together,” Soap slapped Roach on the shoulder, flashing him a sly smile.

Roach rolled his eyes at the comment, “I still can’t believe we have to double up, we could be here for a week and they didn’t think to bring enough tents for all of us.” You're hoping to be paired up with someone quiet, Soap was a loud snorer so you weren’t the least bit sad that he already picked a partner.

You decided to wait until someone asked you to partner with them, it would be far too embarrassing to ask and then be denied, you’d rather wait. And wait you did, it had been about 2 hours since that conversation, no one had doormen to you and you were starting to get worried. What if all the tents were already full, where were you going to sleep? It wasn’t until a dark shadow fell upon you that you looked up from your book.

You were shocked to see Ghost standing there. What could he want? Was he bleeding or something? You quickly glanced around his body checking for any wounds but found none. “We will be sharing a tent, I’m going to bed now so either come with or don’t come at all, I don’t want to be woken up by you tripping over things and making noise.” He then walked away towards the exit of the tent.

It wasn’t until his body disappeared through the flaps of the tent that you scrambled after him. You couldn’t figure out why he had chosen you as a partner, he doesn't even like you. A blast of cold hit you as you stepped out of the tent. It was a blizzard out here and you could hardly see 2 feet In Front of you. A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you further into the high. You were already shivering, tripping every now and then over small piles of snow. The only thing keeping you from falling on your face was his hand.

“There’s no heater in here so we’ll have to stay close to each other,” Ghost's rough voice filled your ears as the two of you stepped into the tent you’d be sharing. When your eyes adjusted to the darkness your mouth fell open. Not only were there not enough tents but there was also a shortage of beds apparently. In the middle of the tent was a medium-sized cot. The right size for Ghost but for both of you? There was no way you wouldn’t be falling off every five seconds. “Is there a problem?” His state was intense. You could feel your body tingling as he stared at you.

You shook your head, there was no point in complaining to him it’s not like it was his fault. You unlaced your boots and set them aside, Ghost did the same. You both kept all your clothes on including your coats, the blanket will keep you a little warm but not warm enough. You expected him to take his mask off but he didn’t, instead, he walked over to the cot and sat down. Ghost motioned for you to go to him and of course, you listened. “There’s not enough room to lay side by side. You’ll need to lay on top of me, is that alright with you?” You let out a breath and nodded, not trusting your voice.

Ghost laid down on his back, he let out a deep groan as his head hit the pillow, he must be exhausted. He draped the blanket across his body and then lifted half of it, “Come.” You were so grateful that it was dark, there was no doubt that your cheeks were bright red. You kneeled on the cot next to his body, not quite sure what to do next. Ghost let out an annoyed grunt and pulled you into him. Your back laid against this broad chest and your legs were placed in between his. God, he was so warm.

You could feel the bottom of his chin resting against the top of your head. It took a few minutes until you were able to relax against him. The steady sound of his heartbeat easing you.

Both of his hands were wrapped around your waist, his legs tangled with yours. It was surprisingly warm, but that could just be from how flushed you were. You started drifting off into sleep as Ghost drew small shapes on the waistband of your pants. It was very relaxing and it felt good to be touched by him.

———

It had only been a few weeks since that first night in the tents. The mission went quickly and the team only had to stay there for 2 nights. Everyone was back at the base waiting for the next mission. You were currently sitting in the med bay spinning in a chair. You were bored out of your mind, there were no patients and the man who was currently in charge of you for the day wouldn't let you leave. Not even for lunch, you had to sit there and eat. It was miserable and if the camp so happened to be bombed at that moment you wouldn't mind very much. Death seemed more exciting than this shit.

That was until a certain tall, large, muscled man walked in. God he was beautiful, you couldn't help but stare at him. You bit on the pen that was hanging from your mouth. A blush formed on your cheeks as you thought of all the ways he could touch you. He was massive compared to you, the top of your head only reached just above his pecs. Your eyes lower to his muscled thighs. He could snap your neck without even straining a muscle with those. And his hands were fucking gorgeous. The few times he wasn't wearing his gloves you made sure to study very intently on them. The veins were prominent and their size could bring you to your knees.

When your eyes reached him, you spit the pen out and hit your knee against the underside of the desk you were sitting at. You cursed as a rush of pain shot through you. “Enjoying yourself?” Ghost spoke from where he was standing. His arms were crossed and his gaze didn't leave you. You didn't really have anywhere else to look since his mask covered everything but his eyes. You could feel the burning in your cheeks as you met his gaze.

Deciding to ignore his words you sat up in your chair and asked, “Is there something you need sir?” Does he like to be called sir when he fucking someone? You wouldn't mind if he did. His voice drew you out of your dirty thoughts once again.

“I need this stitched up,” Ghost held up his forearm showing you a deep gash on the outside of his arm. You hopped out of your seat and rushed over to him. Gently grabbing his arm to inspect the damage.

“Come with me,” You led him to one of the beds, he sat on the edge while you sat in a rolling chair and grabbed all of the needed materials. You grabbed a numbing cream from one of the draws, only to be stopped when he grabbed your wrist.

“I won't need that, just stitch me up as quick as possible,” your brows furrowed, there was no point in making this hurt more than it already has. “I'll be fine, it would just be a waste.”

You nodded and put it away, after cleaning the wound you started seeing it back together. Ghost didn't even flinch. That surprised you, even Price flinched and he acted all strong and tough all of the time. A wave of sadness washed over you as you realized none of this was an act. Ghost truly didn't trust anyone and you had a good feeling he didn't feel much either. Physical or emotional. “How did this happen?”

“Training with soap,” Ghost's response was brief, perhaps he wasn't in the mood for talking. But in truth he never was.

“Oh,” You didn't often see Ghost without his tactical gear on so seeing him with just a normal t-shirt on was strange. It gave you the chance to see his tattoos though. “I like your tattoos, do they have any meaning?”

“No,” Ghost didn't look away from you, you could feel him staring at you but you did your best to ignore him and just keep working. “Why me?” The confusion was evident in his voice.

You immediately knew what he was talking about. You were hoping that he would just pretend Soap never told him. That was what he had been doing for weeks so why bring it up now? “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I don't like liars, you know that,” Ghost's voice sent shivers down your spine. He rarely used his authoritative voice on you but when he did it made you fuzzy. “You don't have feelings for me, you don't even know me. You're probably just confused or lonely.”

You scoffed at his audacity. Your embarrassment faded away as you grew angry. Did he truly believe that you were just so lonely that you latched on to the first man your eyes fell on? You took your hands off of him and glared at him. “First of all lieutenant, people can develop feelings for one another regardless of how close they are and secondly I'm not lonely or confused. I'm perfectly happy with my social standing and I find it insulting that you think that my feelings for you are some desperate attempt to fill a void of loneliness, which by the way doesn't exist.”

Ghost raises a brow at your words. This was the first time you had ever spoken to him with so much confidence. He liked it. “Is that so? Then tell me what exactly you like so much, and why do you make it so obvious to everyone.”

Your eyes narrowed, why is he such a prick? “I don't make it obvious to anyone, just because people think they know things doesn't make that a fact.”

“So you're telling me you feel nothing towards me? I thought I told you I didn't like liars.” He flexed his hand, bringing your attention back to stitching his arm back up. You rolled your eyes at him and went back to your work. But before you could make much progress his other hand grabbed your chin and forced you to look back up at him. Ghost tilted his head slightly, his grip was gentle yet firm. “Don't roll your eyes at me,” the way he said those words almost seemed like he was challenging you. Egging you on.

A tiny smirk grew on your lips, “What are you gonna do if I do? Punish me?” you couldn't tell how he was feeling, he kept his face a perfect mask. Ironic given that he was also wearing a mask.

“Acting like a brat now are we? I'm surprised at your newfound confidence. I can't say I mind it too much,” Ghost's words caused you to grow warm. You clenched your thighs together to ease the ache at the peak. His eyes showed that you weren't very subtle. “Lust then? I'm sure there are plenty of other men that deserve your time much more than I do sweetheart.” he released his grip on you and motioned for you to finish his stitches.

Your mouth had fallen open and when you closed it just fell open again. You couldn't think of anything to say to him, it was like your brain short-circuited. You let out an annoyed sigh and went back to his arm. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that you had feelings for him? Did he think he was incapable of being cared for?

You finished a few minutes later, after you cleaned up the remaining blood, he thanked you and got up from the bed. As he started walking away you abruptly stood from your seat, “Simon,” you called for him. The sound of his name stopped him in his tracks. His head turned slightly, waiting for you to say whatever it was you wanted to say. “People are capable of caring about you. You don't have to make up some excuse for them thinking they're lonely or deprived, from… from experience, I know someone cares for you, whether you will let yourself accept that, that's for you to decide but don't think that my feelings are not real.” He stood there for a moment, taking your words in. A moment later he walked out of the med bay.

———

He hasn't spoken to you in two weeks. Two weeks since the conversation in the med bay. Two weeks since he's even looked at you. Perhaps you overstepped, but it's not like you could apologize, he made sure the two of you were never alone together. On the bright side you could still watch him like you use to, it felt different now that he knows why you watch him.

You had gone to bed early not wanting to deal with Soap and Ghost bickering, at first you thought it was funny but now it just annoys you. It was just getting dark, the camp was always hot though so you usually only used a sheet to cover up with. You were drifting off when you heard a gentle knocking at your door. You couldn't think of who it could be, or what they wanted at this hour. They knocked again and you threw your covers off and slowly made your way to the door.

You unlocked the door and then opened it quickly, hoping to get rid of whoever was on the other side as quickly as possible. You were shocked when you saw your lieutenant waiting patiently for you. His eyes raked down your body, taking in every exposed inch of you. The only thing covering you was an oversized shirt that slipped off your shoulder and the hem only made it halfway down your thighs. Simon's eyes stared at your thighs a little longer than the rest of you. There was nothing to cover up with so there was no point in trying.

“Is there something you need sir?” When he looked back up at you, you saw the frustration in his gaze. Instead of saying something he just pushed past you and entered your room. You stared at him, an awkward feeling resting between the two of you. After shutting the door, you walked over to your bed and sat down, “is everything alright?”

“No, you can't just say the things you said and act the way you did and then go back to how you used to be, it doesn't work that way,” It was clear Ghost was angry, you didn't know why though. He was the one who left. He was the one who started ignoring you. He clenched his hands, balling them into fists where they rested at his side. “Did you mean it?” He almost looks scared. Worry flooded you, did you scare him somehow?

“I…Simon, what's going on, are you okay?” You wanted to make him feel better, but he was right, you didn't truly know him. No matter how much you watched. You stood up and slowly approached him. He watched your every step. Not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

“Please…please just answer the question.” You took one of his hands in yours. He was freezing and shaking. You covered his hand in both of yours and looked back up at him. “I meant every word I said, Simon. I wouldn't lie about something like that, especially not to you.”

“Why, I don't understand,” Simon looked genuinely confused about how you could care for him. It didn't make any sense, he's killed and tortured people. He's never been very kind to you and he doesn't pay much attention to you either. “What have I don't to earn that?”

You tilted your head at him, a small smile craving your lips. “It has nothing to do with what you've earned. You don't trust people, and rightfully so. But I do believe you want to. I think you're lonely. And confused,” you three his own words back at him, but this time they were true. “You don't have anyone you can count on. You're completely alone and I hate that. I know there's nothing I can do to make you trust me, but I am here, even if you just want to sit in silence now and then. I care about you because I think you're a good man. You've done a lot of bad things in your life but so have the rest of us.” You took a step closer to him. His heavy breaths fan the top of your head. You leaned against him while looking up.

Simon stared at you, his eyes roaming over your face trying to see if you were lying or not. When he realized you weren't he brought his head now to yours. He kissed your forehead through his balaclava. “Can…can I sleep in here tonight?” His words were soft and his eyes were tightly closed.

“Of course, come,” Stepping away from him and turning around you led him into your bed. You say him down on the edge and then rested your knees against the floor in between his legs. You unlaced his boots and pulled them off of him, once you were done, you stood back up and the two of you laid down together. He pulled the sheet over you and pulled you into his chest. Ghost was being vulnerable, with you. Just the thought of that made your heart squeeze. You were proud of him for this. Who knows how long it's been since he was able to relax like this?

“You were wrong, I do trust someone” he murmured into your hair, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. “You.”

———

The next few weeks went by quickly, the team was sent out on another mission but that only lasted a few days, and to your disappointment, there was not a shortage of beds.

When everyone was back at the base, Simon usually stayed in your room for a few hours. Sometimes you two would talk but he usually just sat there in silence while you read a book.

Tonight was no different than the others, you were sitting on your cot with your back pressed against the wall and Ghost was sitting across from you on the floor. His arms were resting on his knees while he stared at you. When you asked him why he was starting he just told you to keep reading. You listened, not wanting to risk upsetting him and making him leave. About two later he started talking.

“Is it alright if I come and sit on the bed with you, the floor is hurting my ass,” Simon shifted uncomfortably? IYou let out a small laugh and patted a spot next to you. When he sat now next to you, his weight caused a dip in the catch which caused you to slide closer to him. He didn't seem to mind though. “What are you reading?”

“A book,” You smiled up at him and watched as he rolled his eyes at you. You set your book on your nightstand and lay down on your back, throwing your legs over Ghost. “So I have a very important question for you L.t.”

“Yeah? What would that be,” Ghost laid a hand on your knee, and the other was placed higher on your thigh.

You glanced down at his hand, “When was the last time you've don't anything sexual? I mean like with another person, doing things by yourself doesn't count,” Ghost looked at you with an incredulous look in his eyes. “What? I heard Soap talking about how it's been months for him and I was curious,”

Ghost shook his head and rested it against the wall. “When was the last time you did anything sexual?” He threw your question back at you. Which was rude and even more so when he pinched your thigh causing you to yelp. “If you answer then so will I, otherwise you can keep being curious.”

You let out a defeated sigh, there was no way in hell that you were going to answer it so you accept your defeat, “Fine, I guess I'll stay curious then.”

“Answer the question,” Ghost demanded. You shook your head at him, if he wasn't going to answer first then you weren't going to say a word. It's not like it really matters anyway. “As your lieutenant, I'm ordering you to answer.”

“You can force me to answer a question, that's not how it works,” You rolled your eyes at him and then closed them. A second later Ghost pushed your legs off of him and paced a hand by your head, holding himself above you. You flushed as you opened your eyes, he's never been this close to you before. His knee was positioned in between your legs, making it impossible to close them. “Never.”

Simon's eyebrows furrowed, “Never what?” he rested on his forearm while his other hand gently rested on your waist.

“I've never done anything sexual…well besides with myself but I already said that didn't count, though I have kissed a few guys but that was agile ago.” Your cheeks were bright red. It wasn't that you were specifically waiting for marriage or anything but you wanted your first time to be with someone you trusted. In your line of work, most of the men here are complete assholes who only want a quick fuck. So you had given up trying years ago. Simon didn't say anything, he just stared at you which seemed like his favourite thing to do at this point seeing as that's what he's been doing so much of. “What?” Your voice was hardly above a whisper yet he had heard you just fine.

“I can't say I'm surprised,” Simon brought his hand up to his face, slowly pulling down the balaclava, only exposing his mouth. His lips were plump and looked very soft. You didn't realize you were staring at them until they started to move. “So you've never done anything before?”

You shook your head, looking back up into his eyes, “People are vulnerable when they're exposed. I wanted it to be with someone I trust.”

Simon made a sound of approval. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” You didn't understand why he would ask that until he brought his lips down to yours. You were shocked at first, not knowing what was happening. Once you kissed him back, all of your worries faded away. His lips felt heavenly and his cologne filled your senses. The kiss was gentle, yet it was filled with passion. You've never been kissed like this before. You felt his tongue move along the seam of your lips, the second you parted your mouth for him his tongue dived in. You let out a shaky moan at the feeling, doing your best to keep up with his movements.

While you let him explore your mouth you felt his hand moving down to your thigh, he lifted it and wrapped it around his waist, settling in between your legs. Another moan sounded from your lips as he ground into you. You whined when he broke the kiss, causing a smirk to grow on his lips. He moved his hand over the waistband of your shorts, “May I?” You nodded at him but that didn't seem to please him. “I need you to use your words sweetheart.

“Yes please.” At that, he slowly slides the material down your legs, your underwear with it. Simon started kissing a trail down your neck, you moved your head out of the way exposing more skin to him.

“Such a good girl,” It was almost a growl, his hot breath sent shivers down your spine and straight to your core. You whimpered when he sunk his teeth into your skin, the shape pain was quickly followed by pleasure as he used his tongue to soothe the ache. “Fuck your soaking,” you cupped your sex with his palm, his touch hands scaling against your clit. You bucked up into his hand trying to give yourself more pleasure. “Such a needy little thing aren't you sweetheart?”

“Simon please,” you begged. You didn't know exactly what you needed from him but you did know you wanted to feel more. Giving in to your plea, Simon started rubbing your clit with his thumb. You grabbed onto his shoulders, digging into his flesh. Your breaths grew into pants as he started moving his thumb faster. You felt a finger prod at your entrance, you whined at him which caused him to give you a small laugh in return. Your back arched as he slid his finger inside of you. Starting with slow pumps, your walls clamped tightly around him.

Simon's slow pace was starting to annoy you, you didn't want to do this slow. You met his slow stroke, grinding into his hand as fast as you could. “Easy sweetheart, no need to be in a rush,” His lips caught yours again. The lack of air and pleasure causing you to feel hazy. It felt wonderful, you couldn't remember when you'd ever felt this good, and this was only his fingers. Your mouth fell open as he added a second finger, the stretch felt unbelievably good. Ghost didn't stop kissing you, he called every moan and whine like he was a starving man.

His fingers moved faster, the only sounds in the room were his fingers thrusting in and out of you. You felt your release quickly approaching, “cl-close,” you whimpered into his mouth. Ghost pulled back slightly, your eyes were half closed and your mouth was hung open.

“You're doing so good for me, so fucking good,” He curled his fingers inside of you, you let out a loud moan and your head fell back onto your pillow. Ghost watched as you came around his fingers, but not stopping until he worked you through your whole orgasm. “Atta girl, that's it.”

Ghost sat up on his knees, a satisfied smile on his lips. You watched as Ghost pulled his fingers out of you. You let out a breath when he opened up his mouth and started sucking your release off of his fingers. He let out a pleased hum at the taste of you. When he was finished he let his hands fall to his sides. “We don't have to continue if that makes you uncomfortable.” Instead of answering him you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you. Leaving you completely bare. “Fucking hell.”

“I don't want to stop.” Ghost mimicked your action and pulled his shirt off, throwing it to the side. You had never seen him shirtless before, he was absolutely beautiful. His skin was smooth, with a few jagged scars here and there. You reached out to run your hands down his abs. His hands were busy undoing the button and zipper. He pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. His dick slapped against his stomach. Once his pants were off, he took a hold of your face forcing you to look up at him. You were panicking and he could see it.

“Just relax okay? If you want me to stop, just say the words.” Simon's voice was gentle. It eased some of the anxiety but you were still scared.

“There's no way that's going to fit Simon, it's too big.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, you could feel his dick resting on your pelvis.

“Well make it for sweetheart, don't worry,” Simon moved his hand down to stroke his dick, sliding it up and down your folds. When he asked if you were ready you nodded. “Use your words.”

“I'm ready,” Simon moved his other hand to hold onto, while also holding himself up. The gesture made your heart swell. No matter how emotionless he may act, he was still kind. You bit your lip as he started sinking into you. Only going an inch or two before pulling out and repeating the process. The pain was manageable but it still hurt, the size of his cock, was stretching you out more than what you were used to. He let out a grunt as he bottomed out. Your eyes were squeezed shut and you were taking deep breaths.

Thankfully Simon was true to his word and the pain subsides after a minute or two. His fingers were tracing your face, it was so light you could hardly feel it. “You can start moving now,” He squeezed your hand as he pulled out of you, leaving only the tip in, only hurting a little. Ghost kept his eyes on yours, not looking away for even a second.

After a few thrusts, it started to feel good, really good. “Fuck, so fucking tight, sweetheart,” Gost grunted, your cunt gripped onto his dick tightly, not used to having something so big inside. The sound of skin slapping against each other filled your room. Ghost did his best to keep you as quiet as possible, not wanting to deal with people knowing about what was going on inside your room. You squeezed his hand, the other balling up in the sheets beside you. The stimulation almost felt like too much. Like you were on the edge of a cliff about to fall off.

Your back arched, the position causing Simon to go deeper. His cock pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace. You could feel his dick throbbing, he must be close too. “Oh fuck, Simon!” Your loud moans forced him to clamp his hand over your mouth. Loose enough so you could breathe but it muffled the loud noises you were making.

“I know sweetheart, I know, holy shit,” Simon looked down at your bodies and watched himself thrust in and out of you. When you looked down there was a thick white ring around the base of his cock, along with the print of his dick in your skin. He slowed down for a moment, watching how your body took him in. Each time he trusted inside of you a bulge would form.

At that sight you finally tipped over the edge, your orgasm gushing around his dick as he kept on fucking you, your vision went white and everything went blurry. You heard his moans as he released inside of you, making sure every drop of his cum stayed where it belonged.

Ghost slowly stopped his movements. You whimpered as he pulled out of you. You felt exhausted, all you wanted to do was curl up and pass out. Luckily for you, Simon flipped onto his back next to you, he gently moved you into his arms, stroking your hair and telling you how good you did for him. “You're not going to start ignoring me again are you?” you mumbled into his chest. His heartbeat was still beating fast.

“Never again Sweetheart.”

[skzstannie]

"They found her"

SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member fem! reader

This is a part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone as there's not much reference to the original fic.

genre: hurt/comfort, angst wc: ~3,800 words cw: kidnapping, guns and gunshot wounds, hospitals, some brief cursing

Summary: Since the incident, the guys have been extremely over protective of you. You heed their warnings, but still go out unaccompanied by security on your vacation, only to have to pay the price for your poor decisions.

A/N: Hiiii, ik I've disappeared off the face of the Earth again, but I've brought gifts back with me this time. This one's a bit heavier, but it's the long awaited part 2 to "Did you know?", so I hope you guys enjoy. I hit 500 followers since the last time I posted, so this is kind of a celebratory post as well. Thanks guys!

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

The time has come around again when JYP has given you and your members some well-earned personal vacation, and you've chosen to spend that time back at home with your family and friends.

Upon hearing about your vacation, your childhood friends started blowing up your phone, asking about when you'll be in and if you wanted to hangout. Of course, you've missed them just as much and gave them all the details of you're arrival.

The day of said plans has finally arrived, and you couldn't be more excited. You and three of your closest friends have decided to go to this cute breakfast cafe for brunch, run by all your favorite stores for some shopping, and then round your evening out with some bar hopping.

"You have got to see this!" Ha-Yoon, a friend you've known since grade school, explodes from beside you in the passenger seat, fanning herself. "Look at how hot this guy is? Think he'll give me his number if I DM him?"

"Are you being for real?" Dae cringes from the backseat, leaning forward to get a closer look at your friend's new internet crush. "He's kinda ugly."

This elicits a bickering match for the remainder of the drive, with you and your remaining friend, Soon-Bok, rolling your eyes at their silly banter.

You decided that you'd pick them all up from their homes, figuring that you'd get to spend some more time with them that way. You didn't really think about the fact that perhaps more time was synonymous with too much time. Just because you hadn't seen your friends in months, doesn't mean that they didn't see each other literally every single day.

With a clear of your throat, they stop insulting each other's fantasy love interests, both squealing when they realize you've pulled into the parking lot for the cafe.

The four of you get out of the car, you pulling your keys out of your purse to lock the doors. While walking towards the doors of the cafe, you're hit with a strange feeling- like someone's watching you.

Immediately, you whip your head around in search of anyone getting a little too nosey, but you come up with nothing. You keep your guard up though, knowing you can never be too sure.

Since the stage incident a few months back, you've been feeling a little paranoid. Understandably so, especially since the mean and threatening comments never subsided. It's gotten to the point where the staff have begun to send out a few extra security guards each time you leave the JYP building. In fact, JYP gave you all this nice little vacation in hopes it'd help some of the comments die down. To your dismay, they have not.

The guys have been incredibly protective since then, and you're actually grateful for it for once. Their constant questions about your whereabouts and wanting to tag along with you everywhere you go used to annoy you, but you'd never think to complain about it now.

Just this morning, having told them about your exciting plans for the day, they sent a barrage of texts telling you to be careful. Chan practically demanded you take a security guard with you, but for the sake of your friends' comfortability, you declined. Was it stupid? Possibly, but you're only wish for this vacation is to make things seem normal again. Having constant security around is not normal.

You placated Chan by telling him that your family knows of the places you'll be, and your family and the rest of your members all have your location at all times. He was reluctant, almost threatening to fly himself to your home just to go out on your little excursion with you, but he eventually gave way, not without first lecturing you about how important your safety is- like you didn't already know that.

~ ~ ~

"And then he pushed him down the stairs! How crazy!" Dae finishes, your eyes widening at how her story ended. She had just finished telling you all about how her boyfriend got into this big fight with a guy at the bar the other day. Apparently, the random man thought it acceptable to lay his hands on Dae, and her boyfriend did not appreciate that.

"Your boyfriend is so hot," Ha-Yoon comments, her eyes looking dreamily off into the distance.

"Excuse me?" Dae questions, raising a brow at Ha-Yoon's confession.

"I mean-"

"Ok!" you interrupt, pushing your chair back from the table you've all been sat at. The brunch was nice, catching up with your friends was much needed and the food was warm and comforting, but enough is enough, and your friends are starting to get a bit squeamish. "I need to use the restroom quickly, then we can head to the mall? Does that sound ok?"

There's a chorus of yesses, and they shoo you off into the restroom, picking up their phones to distract themselves until you get back.

You make your way to the back of the cafe, noticing how the bathrooms are secluded down a small hallway in the corner of the restaurant. Your eyes glance out the emergency exit door, and you tilt your head in confusion upon seeing a large white van sat outside it. It is not parked in a parking spot; it's just parked directly outside the door.

You quickly do your business, not wanting to keep your friends waiting for too long, and head back out to the front of the cafe. Stepping outside the restroom, a hand is immediately thrown over your mouth, a piece of foul smelling cloth pressed up against your nose. You try to scream, but this only causes you to inhale more of the chemical.

You fight, attempting to throw an elbow behind you to dislodge yourself from the person's vice like grip, but this only leads to your elbow being grabbed at a painful angle. You whimper slightly as the person pries your elbow behind you, and it almost feels as if your arm could snap if you were to move another inch. You become lightheaded, and it's hard to keep your eyes open and your mind alert. Unable to fight any longer, you give in and slump down into the arms which hold you captive.

~ ~ ~

"She's been gone awhile, I'm gonna go-" Soon-Bok is cut off by an alarm inside the cafe going off. All the customers heads perk up at the noise, their attention drifting to the employees.

The waitresses look to one another in confusion before one makes their way over to where you went for the restroom a few minutes before. The cafe is silent as the waitress disappears, looking for where the alarm would be coming from.

It's silent for another minute, before there's an audible gasp. She comes back with your purse in one hand and your cracked phone in the other.

Your three friends quickly get up from their seats, rushing over to the waitress. "Where'd you find this?" Dae asks, her eyes tearing up.

"Just outside the bathroom. I was just able to catch a glimpse of a van speeding off. Do you think someone was taken?" she asks, her eyes widening at the thought.

"I think- I think our friend was kidnapped," Ya-Hoon whispers.

~ ~ ~

"This is why I said she needed a security guard with her! This would have never happened!" Chan snaps at their management in anger, rising up from his seat in the meeting room.

Upon hearing about your kidnapping, the rest of your members were immediately brought back to the JYP building. They were all livid.

"Chan, I understand you're upset, but there's really nothing we can do now but wait-"

"Wait for what? Huh? Wait for her to just magically appear here?" Minho cuts off the head of security, his face red with anger.

"Of course the police are on the case and doing everything they can to find her. As for the eight of you, you are not to leave this building until we get all of this under control. Do you hear me? We do not need more than one missing member." JYP is stern as he speaks, leaving no room for discussion. "This meeting is dismissed. We will update you all if we hear anything."

With that, everyone else clears out of the room, leaving your eight members.

"This is awful," Felix says, his head hanging in his hands.

"No shit, Felix, why not state more of the obvious," Jisung narrows his eyes at Felix.

"We can't turn on each other," Changbin butts in, deterring them from getting into it any further. "We have to stick together and just wait this out. She's strong; she'll be ok."

"But what if she's not," Hyunjin speaks up for the first time since they got back. He's been huddled up against Jeongin since they got there, his head hung low. It's obvious he's been crying with the way his cheeks are stained with tears, his eyes red from how often he's rubbed them.

"We can't think like that," Chan says, moving over to Hyunjin. He lays a comforting arm around his shoulders, and Hyunjin immediately moves to the comfort of the leader, turning his head to hide it in Chan's chest. "They saw the van leave, it couldn't have been too long before the police were there. They'll find her, and then she'll be right back here with us."

"To never be let out of our sights again," Seungmin grumbles from the couch, wearing a similar expression to that of Felix's.

"Correct," Minho agrees, leaning back in his chair.

~ ~ ~

"Seungmin, you have to sleep. Staying up for 72 hours straight is not going to make her come back any faster," Chan lays his hand on the back of the boy's neck, slightly rocking him side to side.

"Maybe not, but I'll be the first to know when they find her," he counters, his bloodhsot eyes meeting Chan's. "You're one to talk; you haven't slept either."

Chan just sighs in response, plopping down on the couch next to him. It's quiet between the two of them, but neither are complaining about it. The peace is nice after what they've been through the past few days.

"Hyunjin hasn't stopped crying. Jeongin and Felix have had to take turns laying with him," Seungmin breaks the quiet, his soft voice travelling throughout the practice room. "Han hasn't eaten since we found out."

"I know, I've been trying to get everyone up and moving, but no one's interested."

"Chan, we're not expecting you to be the hero. We know you're in pain, too, and it's ok to act like it," it takes Chan a minute to process what Seungmin had said, but as his brain takes time, he realizes that it's been so long since he's cried, so long since he's truly let his emotions out.

With another moment passing, Chan's breath quickens and tears spring into his eyes. Without another thought, he turns his head into Seungmin's shoulder and cries. He cries for you, and how scared you must be right now, and he cries for the rest of his members, knowing how bad this is hurting them. He cries because he can't take away their pain or yours, not this time.

~ ~ ~

"Wake up." You feel a cold splash of water hit your face, and you're abruptly brought to consciousness. Your eyes open quickly in response to the cold, but you squint once you're hit with the blinding light coming from the ceiling light above you.

You try to talk, to say anything, but you quickly become aware of the duct tape placed snuggly over your mouth.

You gain some more proprioception, feeling the tightness of the rope around your wrists and how your ankles are tied to the legs of the chair you're currently sat on.

"Hey!" Your attention is brought to the large man standing in front of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the gun in his hand. "Eyes here. And quit squirming so much!"

You freeze at that, stilling your movements. "Now listen here," you hear another guy say from across the room. You are just noticing him for the first time, and you realize that this guy in front of you must be the brawn of the operation. "We need some money. A lot of money. So, if you want to make it out of here alive, you need to call your family and have them bring us 350 million won. No less. Think you can handle that princess?"

Tears well in your eyes at the mention of death. You can't die like this, at the hands of these awful people. But you also know you don't want to get your family involved. So, deciding this is your best bet, you sit stoically. You look straight ahead, your focus unwavering.

"The silent treatment, huh?" You can see out of your periphery the man at the desk across the room stand from his chair. He makes his way towards you, but you pay him no mind, keeping your blank stare on the wall in front of you.

"If the threat's not enough to get you to talk, maybe this will be." He's quick to take the gun from the other man's hand, and before you can even flinch he's pointed it at your lower leg and let off a shot.

You choke on your own spit when the pain registers. You close your eyes and strain your body not to react, but there's only so much you can do. The tears you were successfully keeping at bay before now slide freely down your cheeks. Your hands are in tight fists behind your back, and you feel you may pass out from the white-hot pain radiating from your calf.

Your consciousness teeters, and all words being spoken by the men sound gibberish in your state. Just as you feel you may fall completely unconscious, you're startled by a loud bang from behind you. Your eyes lazily drift to the men, and you see their gazes widen before they quickly raise their hands in surrender. You make eye contact with the one that shot you, and that's the last thing you see before your eyes shut, your body and mind going completely numb.

~ ~ ~

The practice room door is flung open, bringing Chan out of his sleepy state. "What the hell? Be a little quieter would you," he mumbles, rolling his eyes at Jisung who stands in the doorway. For the first time since the news, Chan is attempting to get some sleep. It wasn't exactly on his own accord, though. After the constant hounding from the rest of the members, and even a threat from Felix that he'd sneak melatonin into his water, he decided it would probably be best for him to try and get some shut eye; he'll be of no use to anyone if he's delirious with sleep.

"They found her."

At this, all of Chan's previous drowsiness vanishes. He sits up from the couch faster than he ever has before, his joints cracking with such a sudden movement. "What?" he asks for clarification, fearing it might be too good to be true.

"They've found her. She's on the way to the hospital right now," Jisung's contagious smile makes more sense now, Chan wearing a similar expression.

"Where are the rest of the boys?" Chan stands from the couch in a rush, quickly slipping his shoes on.

"They're in the meeting room. They just bought our flight there, we're leaving now."

~ ~ ~

"Thank you," you tell the nurse, taking the small cup of water from her hands. It's been a few hours since you woke up from your unconscious state. Upon arriving at the hospital, they immediately took you into surgery to remove the bullet from your leg. Thankfully, it missed all the important stuff, leaving your bones completely in tact. You're left with some muscle damage, but the doctor assured you with some physical therapy you'd be back to normal again.

You're now laying in bed recovering. The wound has been stapled and is wrapped tightly. You have your leg resting on a couple pillows, hopefully to help prevent the swelling. Beside you on the couch is your family, having come in immediately upon hearing the news. Some silly K-Drama is playing on the T.V, but it's enough to keep your mind occupied for now, so you're thankful for it.

Nobody confirmed it for you, but you were sure your members were well on their way. Your family told you that you had been kidnapped for a few days. You told them you only remember being awake for a few minutes, but apparently they kept knocking you out again and again.

After talking with the police, you find that they were using you for ransom, and they kept knocking you out because they didn't have everything squared away yet; whatever that means, you're not quite sure.

As if on cue, the door to your room swings open, revealing Chan and Minho. They're out of breath and sweaty, looking as if they had just run a marathon.

You're given no time for formal greetings as they both launch themselves at you, throwing their arms haphazardly around you until you feel like you're squished beneath them. Your mom makes a protesting sound, but you wave her off with a gesture of your hand. They missed you, and you missed them. They weren't hurting you or anyone else by hugging you.

"You're never leaving our sights again," Chan says, his cheek pressed against the top of your head.

"Never ever," Minho agrees, his torso laid lightly across your lap.

"I'm okay-" you start, only to be cut off by an angry looking Chan. His face pops into view at your words, eyebrows furrowed.

"You are indeed not okay! You were kidnapped, unconscious for hours on end, and then shot! How are you possibly trying to convince us that you're ok?" Minho stands up at his outburst, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm alive, and that's okay enough for me."

With your response bludgeoned into their minds, they both collapse on top of you in another hug.

You bask in their warmth a bit longer, only being interrupted with the door creaking open. Felix and Hyunjin stand there, teary and red-eyed.

"Your time's up," Hyunjin sniffles, moving out of the way of the door so the two can exit.

"We'll be back," Chan leans down to kiss your forehead while Minho grabs your hand, giving it an assuring squeeze.

They leave, and Felix and Hyunjin scurry in after them. They crowd around your bedframe, hesitant to even lay a hand on you.

"Hey," you whisper, reaching over to grab both of their hands, "I'm okay."

Hyunjin breaks down in sobs, and it only takes Felix a minute before he's right there with him. You let go of their hands and open your arms to welcome them in for a hug. Both of them hesitate again, but eventually bend down to give you the gentlest hug you've ever received.

"Does it hurt?" Felix mumbles, his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulders.

"They've got me on some serious meds, so no. It probably will when I come off of them, though. I haven't tried to walk-"

"And you wont either. Not for a long while," your mom cuts in from the couch.

"Thanks for your input, Mom."

"No problem," her gaze shifts to the boys, "She's been moody since she came out of surgery. They say it's because of the meds." They both let out a huffy laugh at that, and while you're absolutely dying to argue, you're just thankful to see Hyunjin and Felix smile.

There's another knock at the door, and all your heads snap to Changbin and Jisung. "Our turn," Jisung says, gesturing for Felix and Hyunjin to get out.

"We'll see you soon," Felix says before making his way to the door.

"Love you," Hyunjin says, hugging you for a second longer.

"Love you, too," you tell him, and you watch as he gets up and walks toward the door.

Once they're gone, Jisung and Changbin come into the room.

"Chan is never letting you out of his sight again; you know that, right?" Changbin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.

"Uh, not just Chan, all of us," Jisung argues. "You know how when girls go out they all have to, like, go to the bathroom together? That's about to be us bestie."

"Um, ew," you grimace just thinking about all your privacy being stripped from you.

"We'll wait outside, of course," Changbin says, trying to make you feel better.

"Oh, how thoughtful," you sass back, giving them a sarcastic smile.

"But for real though, are you ok?" The atmosphere turns serious at Jisung's inquisition. "We were all worried sick about you."

"I guess I could be better, but I'm gonna be just fine. Doc said some physical therapy and I'll be good as new."

"Did you know they didn't even realize you were an idol at first?" Changbin says, piquing your interest. "They said they thought they just picked up some random person at the cafe. Apparently that's why they kept you knocked out for so long; it made things more complicated."

"I did not know that, actually. The police only gave me a quick run down, said they'd be back later for some more questioning and to give us some more information."

Another knock is heard at the door, and you look to see Seungmin and I.N standing there, the last of your boys. "Our turn now, move along," Seungmin says, tapping his foot impatiently.

"That's our cue, we'll see you later." They both lean down to give you a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the room.

Seungmin and I.N come in, seeming even more urgent than Chan and Minho did earlier.

They both come crashing down on top of you, all concern for the wires attached to you out the window.

Wanting to tease them, you say, "What if I was, like, seriously hurt? And now you two just came running in here like a pack of wild animals?"

"Give me a break, everybody said you were fine and that you were accepting hugs," Seungmin throws back, giving you a firm poke in the side.

You bark out a laugh at that, a smile gracing your features. "They also said that you hadn't smiled yet. So there," Seungmin nuzzles his head back into your shoulder, and you feel him breath a sigh against your neck.

"We missed you," I.N says from the other side where he's latched onto your arm.

"I missed you guys more."

"Not possible, I'd never seen any of the guys so worked up before. Chan didn't sleep the whole time you were gone, and as soon as we convinced him to, they found you," Seungmin says.

"Well, I'm here now," you comfort them, rubbing a hand on each of their backs.

"And we're never letting you go again."

~ ~ ~

Part 1

[yandere-wishes]

𝕆𝕦𝕣 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

Summary: You try to escape from two fearsome Sith Lords. Surprisingly they take it rather well.

Author's note: This is totally getting a part 2. Or maybe a series we'll see. 

Warnings: dark, absolutely no regard for the rule of two, sorta a vent fic (venting that these two are so fine and I can't get them out of my mind), slightly fluffy.

The empire's warships have a tendency to blur reality. The interiors of their large hulking exoskeletons house endless corridors and makeshift chambers. Vast, endless arrays of space. They've been optimized for housing droids, clones, and artillery. Not for escape, not for an endless search of a freedom that has long since eroded. 

Calling yourself anything but desperate would be a lie. Your feet run to the chorus of your broken heartbeat. The need for freedom, the need to escape spreads through your body like a poison. You know it'll end up killing you, either from exhaustion or by their sabars. But you have to try, you have to run. Even if you've left fragments of yourself in the warm bed the three of you sleep on. Even if you forgot your heart under Anakin's pillow and your soul still lingers in Maul's warm embrace. Maybe freedom is worth cutting off pieces of yourself, if only in the hope that someday they might grow back. 

There's something wrong with the corridors you're sure of it. You've never been one for directions, instead relying on the holo screens and navigation systems to lead the way. Mirror images as far as the eye can see. Identical, plain. Nothing substantial to store in your memory. There's something ironic about this situation, a punchline that doesn't quite land. You half haphazardly tug on the skirt of your nightgown, desperate for anything familiar. You're not sure why.

You remember how Anakin called you pretty this morning, still hazy, still clinging to the sensation of slumber. Perfect blue eyes too dazed to look at you. Really look at you. The chosen one gazes at your ghost, your ethos. the perfect doll he and Maul had morphed you into. Behind you

 Maul pulls you to his chest. Hand running up and down her side, trying to resurrect you into his dreams. It's only when Anakin's eyes close, seeling the shimmering blue orbs, that you crawl out of bed and into the unknown. 

You're lost, abandoned in absolute desolation. The marble tiles bleed frost into the soles of your feet. Somewhere in the distance, you feel a disturbance in the force. Too far away to matter, yet leaking with a potent rage that burns. It's hope you think, albeit pathetically, maybe it's better to capitulate this pointless crusade and wait for the Sith lords to find you. The crash comes just as you're about to stop. You bump into him, falling in the process. All armor and steel. The Stormtrooper's mask is off giving you a clear view of his scarred face. His eyes flash, some dreary emotion too obscure to read, he offers you a gloved hand, something human something casual. 

You stare frozen. 

When exactly did you stop comprehending human idiosyncrasies? 

When exactly did you start reading every interaction as a threat? 

He's a monster, you think, just like the ones you've been warned about. Lectured time and time again by both Anakine and Maul. Monsters pry on little girls, especially ones who wander off on their own. Monsters lurk behind unsuspecting walls, ready to pounce when their prey approaches. You wonder if, the definitive definition of "monster" could be passed on to the two Siths who call themselves your lovers. 

There's blood, too crimson to be real. Metallic aromas wafted through the air. You've only now noticed how close the disturbance in the force really is. Close enough to distinguish itself. To reveal that, in actuality, it's not a disturbance at all.

 It's two...

Something cold yanks at your forearm. Pulling you to your feet. for a split second, your nerves calm. The familiarity of the cybernetic arm grants you a heavy ease. Anakin pushes you over to where Maul is standing. Golden eyes burning holes through the stormtrooper's armor. 'He didn't do anything' you long to say. But the words wisely die on your tongue as Maul grips your shoulders. Anakine's saber is lit, stabbing through the soldier's armor as if it were flesh. As if killing him where as easy as killing a rogue thought. "You're quite a foolish soldier for daring to touch that which belongs to your commanders. Even more imbecilic for so much as looking at emperor Palpatine's disciple." 

Maul's grip on your shoulders tightens, eyes never once leaving the bloodshed. One of his hands instinctively roams to your belly, then slides down to your thigh. Rubbing it ever so gently as his claws pierce your soft skin. You close your eyes trying to make yourself smaller. You hate how his touch grounds you. How the familiarity plucks at your heartstrings. When he touches you like this you wish you would forever rot in his arms.

"'I'm sorry" You don't know why the words come so easily. As if they've been itching to spill from your tongue. Maybe it's easier to say 'I'm sorry' rather than 'You've broken my perception of love, of reality and now I can only find comfort in your darkness.' "Hush" Maul's anger spills with every syllable. His claws dig deeper, earning him a pained hiss from his doll. 

"You're not sorry, in fact, you rather enjoyed this didn't you? Running away making us chase you down, I never thought your species would enjoy being the prey so much, little one." Anakin walks over, saber seethed at his side. His every step promised pain, retribution. He's angry, furious. They both are, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, they'll end it all today. 

Maul's chambers have always been a testament to Dathomir, bathed in deep scarlets and endless ebony. You wonder if he's homesick for a place he's only visited in his worst ephialtes. After the incident in the corridors, they drag you back to the Zabrak's room. Neither bothering to say a word. Merely permitting their rage to engulf you, subduing you into submission. It's an unwelcome surprise when they begin to prep for the day. Throwing on their black cloaks, prior to choosing your outfit. An abnormal affinity settles across the room. Too unnerving to go unchecked. 

They dress you each morning, a ritual you think, some attestation of love that's never been quite right. Maul drapes you in velvet dresses. Each one harbors a sui generis softness that sits erroneously across your skin. Their opulent sensation only brings forth feelings of aversion and despair. Their softness an ode to your imprisonment. 

the dresses come in shades of crimson, detailed sometimes in black, sometimes in gold, and sometimes in a frigid blue that sends shivers running up your spine. 

Anakin fusses over your accessories, why they feel the need to dress you so extravagantly daily is beyond you -as you've come to realize many things are- On days when Anakin's hubris reaches its apex, he bathes you in gold. Astonishing glittering collars across your neck and Kuat bangles hanging from your wrists. When he's sober from his pride he chooses black diamonds. Simple and exotic. scintillate and opaque.

Allusions to the dark side.

A hidden reference that crawls inside you. 

Once, back when you'd been sure defiance was still an option. Back when callow hope still dared to flow through your veins. Back when you'd been a jejune, stubborn thing. You had refused to wear one of the dresses they'd bought. Adimant in your refusal until Maul had stuck out his hand. Summoning the Force to remind you just who held the supreme authority here. 

The Force had strangled you, clawing hungrily at your neck. You felt your bones caving in on themselves, watched with exacerbating hysteria as your feet abandoned the floor. He'd only released you when he was sure you were near death's adorned door. Permitting you to molder on the floor akin to a ragdoll. 

Anakin had chastised you after you'd conjured enough strength to sit up, gasping greedily for air. He'd broken two fingers that day. One still harbors a small scar.

A Promise ring. 

An augury.

There are days, few and far between. When they've deemed you've been behaving adequately for long enough. That they permit you the choice of which dress you'd fancy wearing for the day. It's a rare event, reserved as a special treat. You think it's their way of proposing variety, giving you the illusion of choice. Making you feel a little less smothered. 

Today is not one of those days. Today, you feel them pick you apart, only to reassemble you in their image. Drowning you in extravagance. A reminder, one whose deprecating nature weaves itself within your muscles. You, little girl, are nothing more than a doll. And dolls should know their place.

No sooner do you feel the final lace fasten across your back, that Anakin is tugging you outside the door. Metal arm clasped around your forearm. 

Maul follows behind molten gaze locked on your face. The hallways bend to their will as if the walls themselves quiver with their presence. You recognize this corridor, recognize the frigid forlorn. 

There's something wrong with Emperor Palpatine's throne room. It's surreal, makeshift. His real throne lays somewhere cold, somewhere even his apprentices don't dare wander off to. The ironclad throne has never felt right. Never felt like it held any real power. Just terror, just dread, just hatred. But here it is in all its glory. Left to two apprentices who'd rather treat it as a toy than a sacred place.

 Anakin dramatically throws himself onto the throne. One leg thrown over the armrest as he leans against the other. His other leg planted firmly on the ground. He keeps you steady on his thigh. Torturing you with his distant, disappointed look. Maul stands in front of you. His eyes liquid gold melting into you. You see the galaxy in them. Hear it whispearing secrets meant to be forgotten. It's Anakin's voice that rattles you from your disjointed thoughts. 

"You caused us so much worry angel" he's being nice. You don't trust that. There's something sinister plaguing his words.  

"You know Ani, she may cease escaping if you'd cease to spoil her." Maul leans down, gripping your chin and squeezing. " The brat forgets her place, merely cause you'd rather coddle her than discipline her." 

Anakin glares, a shift in his eyes, blue bleeding into gold. "Hmm, Maul, you're starting to sound an awful lot like Kenobi right now."

"Why's that? Did the old fool tend to also point out your shortcomings?" 

You wonder who this Kenobi is, as you watch the Siths' exchange crude childish vitriols. Maybe he'd make a better lover than the two men you have the misfortune of being adhered to. 

They never could truly see just how similar they were.

Two sides of the same coin. 

One born of copper, the other, black rose petals.

Subconsciously you reach out. Grasping Anakin's robotic hand, fiddling with the panel, peeling it away to gain access to the wires and circuits. You have a bad habit of ripping things open. Anakin learned this the first time he kissed you and you tried to gnaw at his chest with your nails. Not in malice, but rather to satisfy a ravenous curiosity. A raging need to open him and see just how he ticked. You'd wished to perform an autopsy on his soul. Rip him open and devour all his secrets. Back then you'd wondered if you could kiss sunrises into Anakin's eternal night. Strip him of bleak blackened skies and introduce him to stars and a moon that shines. He'd only vaguely permitted it. Opting to pluck the stars lying within you. Swiping them for steel and lava and other mundane things that fueled his incessant rage. 

Anakin's head dips, lips pressing on your jugular vein. "You're ethereal" Anakin mubbles against your skin, like the dying prayer of a collapsing star. He's so pretty when he kisses your neck. Biting away pieces of you. Stealing your light for himself. 

"Princess" Maul seethes venom pelting from his words. You realize you'd been ignoring him. Something he's not too fond of. "What in the stars was going through your pretty little head?" 

 he looks like he'd love nothing more than to wring your pretty little neck right now. "I just..." your words feel heavy. Tiny bullets polluting your tongue. It feels so cruel to say when you know just how much they love you. "I just wanted some freedom. Just a bit of space." 

"Dumb little angel" Anakin chastes. You lower your head in embarrassment watching Maul kneel in front of you. He cups your cheeks, placing a soft kiss on your head. "You can never escape us beloved".

 "I love you," says Anakin. All you hear is, I'll haunt you, I'll break your ribs one by one so that I may possess your heart. Maybe they mean the same thing. 

"And I'm pretty sure if Maul could feel normal emotions like everyone else, then he'd love you too." You can't help but let out a giggle as Anakin throws his head back laughing. A rare melodious sound, that causes your heart to skip a beat. Maul merely rolls his eyes before pecking you on the lips.

You trace your fingers across Maul's chest, feeling the pummelling of two hearts. A double heartbeat. Two melodies entwined, You wonder who he harbors in those hearts. One for love and one for family. You nip at his bottom lip. Ushering the blood into your mouth. He tastes of Ichor and smoke. Of sadness and rage. From behind you feel Akanin bite into the hollow of your flesh. Leaving traces of himself upon your skin. 

"Our pretty little problem" Anakin mumbles. 

You're a problem, a vexation draped in velvet, an unsolvable equation. Trapped between a love that seethes through your body like a toxin. Engulfing you until your mind relents. Maybe it's easier this way. Easier to say 'I love you' without the double entendre. 

You do love them.

A rather arduous conclusion to reach.

Maul and Anakin.

Palpatine's apprentices. 

Your lovers

Yeah, that sounds about right...

💜💜: @athanasia-day @hotpinkboots @jenn-patterson-69 @nickiiiixoxo-blog @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

[taintedcigs]

dancing with our hands tied part I — s.h.

you can find part II here.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, making out, swearing, drinking, alcohol mention, smoking, drgs (joint mentions etc. idk why i always make them smoke im sawrrry), thats it i think

summary: in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex. (wc: 5.5k+)

a/n: so ! first of all, the 'Steve' or 'Steve & You' next to the dates indicate POVs, idk why i decided to do that i think wanted to be artistic or somethinngg??? also did not proof-read this well so pls ignore the mistakes and hope u guys enjoy it (also make sure to check out the 2nd a/n at the end pls!)

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | Steve.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

He could feel it, he could feel each breath quickening, as if it was echoing the anticipation and excitement coursing through his veins, pushing away any traces of anxiety and nervousness.

Chest feeling tight with each step you took closer to him, your presence engulfing him with warmth, as he fought hard not to let that stupid grin spread across his face when you giggled at his stupid jokes, your head throwing back simply, and Steve swears if you got any closer to him you could actually hear the rapid pace of his heart.

His mind blocked out the entire room filled with booming music, entire focus shifted toward you.

He couldn’t help it, his eyes were stuck on you as a mellow smile plastered on his lips, as if he was silently trying to tell you how he felt about you, as if he was hoping you would understand his meaningful gaze.

“Steve,” You whined, lips puffing as you gave him a slight huff, “You’re not even listening!” You chided playfully before Steve shook his head quickly puffing.

“I was totally listening,” He replied, causing you to roll your eyes, “Really? Then what was I talking about, doofus?” You crossed your arms against your chest.

“Something about never listening to Def Leppard again when you’re in the car,” He replied cockily, your chest puffing down as you realized he actually was listening, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re annoying,” You huffed, “I’m always right, honey,” Steve said proudly, the nickname slipping past his lips so easily.

“You want another one?” You asked, attempting to change the conversation, Steve failing to notice the heat growing on your cheeks when he called you ‘honey’, fingers pointing toward his almost empty red cup, his attention diverted slowly, gaze still stuck on you.

“Uhhh… yeah,” He muttered, the small smile on his lips hanging around before his clammy hands reached for your cup, “I’ll get us both a refill,” He winked, as you gave him a small smile, hands reaching out to give him your empty cup.

Steve weaved through the drunken bodies, holding his cup in the air as he muttered apologies excusing himself. The music thumping was drowning out his inner thoughts, still picturing how your head fell back when you giggled at him.

God, he was stupid.

So stupid and absolutely pathetic.

The way he stuttered around you, his heart pounding out of his chest, hands clammy, barely able to get his words out was absolutely fucking pathetic.

It was supposed to be simple, you and him.

Friends, just friends.

You had entered Steve’s life when he needed it the most. He was a mess, just gotten out of another unsuccessful relationship, and his parents were always on his ass for not being successful or smart enough, his world was entirely crumbling around him, and you rolled around in his life, so suddenly, and so perfectly.

You with your soft giggles and your perfect smile, voice almost reminiscent of an angel, and so fucking sure of yourself that Steve couldn’t help but want to be around you, almost as if he was hooked.

You were the new girl in Hawkins High during his senior year, the new shiny toy that everyone wanted to befriend. But you chose him.

At that time, that meant everything to Steve, being chosen, finally being the person someone first went for, you probably never realized it, and you probably never realized the full impact you had on him.

And that’s how everything began, you had befriended him and his group of friends, and everything was supposed to be simple, so simple.

Until Steve decided to introduce you to Eddie Munson, his best friend.

Munson made you laugh at his stupid jokes, he shared the same music taste as you, he played the same nerdy game you loved, and he watched the same type of horror movies you did—the ones that would probably make Steve sleep with lights on if he actually watched them without peering through his fingers. 

Eddie was supposed to be Steve’s best friend, and you were supposed to be Steve’s new friend, Eddie wasn’t supposed to be close to you, and he wasn’t supposed to –eventually– date you. It was supposed to be Steve. You were supposed to be with Steve.

It drove him crazy and for the longest time, he couldn’t accept it. Steve Harrington couldn’t comprehend or bear the fact that he was jealous of his best friend, Eddie Munson.

It was torture for him, watching you slip more and more away from him, and right into his best friend’s arms. Steve knew it was wrong, Steve knew he shouldn’t feel the way he did and he knew he should’ve been happy for his best friend, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help but be bitter that Eddie acted so quickly, almost as if he was stealing you before Steve even had a chance to sort his life out, let alone his feelings toward you.

And while the relationship didn’t last that long, its consequences did, Steve had been in love with feelings for you since senior year –almost two years, but now that you were his best friend’s ex, he never thought about acting on his feelings, not even once.

Not when you came to Steve for comfort one year ago when the two of you broke up, not when Robin tried to tell him countless times that Eddie wouldn’t mind it, Steve could never do it.

He knew that once you became Eddie’s ex, he lost all his chances with you, so, he decided to keep those feelings for you contained, pushing them down until they eventually disappeared.

He loved you in secret.

And he had been good at it, at least until the words that came out of your mouth last Friday.

Maybe you didn’t mean it, maybe you were so fucking drunk out of your mind that the words had slipped past your lips without any care, without any meaning.

Robin told him the opposite, she tried telling him the cliché of how drunk words are sober thoughts, but Steve dismissed it, he couldn’t let it get to his head, couldn’t let himself have any hope about you, ever.

“Jesus!”

“Been looking for you everywhere, dingus!” Robin’s voice echoed in his head as he finally made his way to the drink stand, slamming down the cups in his hand before he greeted Robin.

“Where is she?” Robin said as she noticed your absence next to Steve, eyebrows wiggling with mischief causing Steve to roll his eyes.

“By the beer pong table,” He said dismissively, causing Robin to raise her eyebrows, “Oh-kay,” She enunciated.

“Did something happen?” She asked, her sarcastic tone replaced by seriousness now that she saw how Steve’s face fell at the mention of your name.

“No,” He answered, hands clammy as they reached for the punch bowl, but his answer was quick, so quick that Robin could see right through him.

“C’mon Steve,” Robin nudged slightly, almost spilling the cup Steve was filling, “Shit, sorry!” She chuckled lightly.

“What was I saying?” Steve gave her a look.

“Oh, duh!” She giggled again, clearly drunk. “Right, you can trust me,” Robin’s face became serious again and Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

“It’s nothing new,” He sighed, filling the two cups on the counter with booze again before turning to Robin. “It’s—just—I don’t know how to act like last Friday didn’t happen,” He sighed, causing Robin to blink quickly.

“You still haven’t talked to her about it?” Her voice raised as Steve shushed her, as if anyone would be able to hear the two of them, Steve shook his head.

Friday, June 3, 1988 | Steve & You

The summer break had been in its full swing, you and Steve had returned to Hawkins for the remainder of the break, along with the rest of the gang who were finished with their finals, and every day had turned into some sort of drinking or smoking fest, and now there you guys were, high out of your mind in Nancy’s basement. The rest of the gang had scurried to get some more booze, leaving you and Steve alone.

“Which one would you prefer?” You asked, asking stupid ‘Would You Rather’ questions to Steve, barely moving from your position on the couch as you turned your gaze toward him, your legs were tangled with his, head thrown back in the headrest of the couch, and his calloused fingers were slightly tapping on your thigh, your mind hazy as you snatched the beer bottle from his hands.

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, “I was drinking that,” He rolled his eyes playfully, trying to get the bottle back before you guarded it, “It is mine now, Steven,” You mocked with a serious voice, squinting your eyes.

“I, so regret telling you my full name,” He chided softly causing you to scoff, “Yeah because it was so fucking hard to guess ‘Steve’ was short for ‘Steven’, huh?” You replied sarcastically, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you tried to stifle your laughter.

Steve cursed you under his breath jokingly, causing you to gasp dramatically, he tssked, “Stop being a brat.”

“Rude,” You muttered before taking another swig at the beer in your hand, causing him to roll his eyes as he reached for the bottle, “Think you had enough, sweetheart,” His tone was filled with concern. You could sense it, you knew he was trying to look out for you.

“You controllin’ what I drink now, Harrington?” You slurred a bit, mind hazy from all the blunts you shared, and the beers you were sipping on.

“When did being concerned for your friend start being labeled as ‘control’?” He raised a brow, causing you to shrug, “You can have it, King Steve,” You mocked as you handed the beer in your hand, “I’m pretty hammered anyway,” You giggled as Steve placed the bottle on the counter next to him.

You were back to the comfortable silence again as you asked Steve weird questions again until Steve decided to ask the inevitable question, “You okay?” worry creased his brow, hands still gently rubbing on your thigh, your stomach filling with excitement at his tender touch, “Why wouldn’t I be?” You said confidently.

“Dunno…” Steve muttered, but he knew exactly why he was asking it, “Coming back to Hawkins again for the first time after everything with… y’know,” He murmured again, and if you weren’t paying any attention to him, you would’ve barely made out what he was saying.

You knew he was talking about Eddie because it would be the first time you would see him since the break-up, and while the thought did make your stomach churn, you had gotten over Eddie.

Many, many months ago.

Your lives were so different, so fucking different.

You wanted the simple things, finishing college, having a normal job, away from all the drama and chaos you endured in Hawkins, just… simple.

And Eddie wanted so much more.

He wasn’t going to settle, and who were you to hold him back?

He was nice and fun, but the moment you left for college the relationship was over, you just didn’t realize it at the time. Arguments getting more frequent and the distance between each other growing more and more every day.

“C’mon Steve… It’s been a year,” You tried to reassure him as your fingers traced his hand on your thigh, giving it a comfortable squeeze. A soft smile grazed his lips at your action, his mind still filled with the horrible voice in the back of his head that told him that you were still hung up on Eddie.

“Just worried is all,” The way he looked at you was enough to get your heart rate pacing, stomach filled with flutters when he traced every curve of your face.

Even though you were over Eddie, it still didn’t give him any peace of mind, knowing he could never be with you. But he kept his facade up, pushing his feelings down, and it was all going fine, until the moment he dropped you off at home.

After your conversation, the gang had arrived with more booze and weed than you could ever imagine, and by the time Steve dropped you home, you were absolutely shitfaced.

You wobbled, loud chuckles escaping past your lips as Steve led you to the bedroom, he had a tight hold on your body, trying to keep you steady. You giggled as you could barely hold your body up, almost tripping with the way you tried to walk over to the bed, causing Steve to chuckle. “Easy, honey,” He gently warned as his grip on your waist tightened, guiding you toward the bed.

You hummed contently when he finally managed to help you get into the bed,  tucking you in with his tender hands, a soft smile plastered on your lips, “Thanks for takin’ care of me, Stevie,” Your words stuck to each other, and Steve couldn’t help but have a childish grin plastered on his face when you said his name so sweetly.

“Course,” He murmured, “Always, honey,” His voice was soothing, making you hum.

“You really are amazing, Stevie,” A playful glint playing in your tone, “So, I’ve been told, sweetheart,” He purred, hands gentle as they brushed a strand of hair away from your face, causing you to giggle again.

“Sleep tight, okay?” He added as he pressed a warm kiss on your cheek, hands pressing into your mattress before he stood tall and made his way to the door.

“Steve?” Your gentle tone called out to him, and it made him stop dead in his tracks, the tenderness squeezing his heart, he turned around to meet your face. “Yeah?” His voice almost cracked, you were so fucking perfect and it was killing him.

The silence in the room was dizzying both you and him, tension hanging in the air with the way your gaze stuck on him.

“I wish it was you,” Your last words had been slurred, but this one was clearer than ever, Steve’s ears perked up as his eyes widened quickly, “W—what?” He stuttered, your words freezing him in his place.

“At The Hideout, that day—I—I wish it was you,” You cleared your throat, words filled with regret as they escaped your lips, you were drunk out of your mind and were surely not going to remember them tomorrow, and Steve’s heart was an open wound at this point.

You surely didn’t mean that you wished it was Steve instead of Eddie, did you?

“Instead of him,” You hiccuped, “I wish it was you,” You affirmed his thoughts, and Steve felt as if his heart had shattered into a million pieces. Your drunken words remained tight in the air, the weight of them sitting tight on Steve’s chest, not being able to escape the ache in his heart.

And with six words, you had managed to break Steve Harrington.

He knew exactly what you meant, The Hideout was the day you and Eddie had started dating, the one day when you needed Steve the most, and he wasn’t there.

Steve didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning at the possibilities, laying awake as the thoughts of you filled his mind, replaying that same conversation over and over again until he went crazy.

He was hoping the two of you could talk about it, or at least you’d say something, but once he saw you the next morning as you apologized to him for how drunk you were, he knew he was fucked.

You had told him the most life-altering words he ever heard and didn’t even remember it, and that is why Steve couldn’t help but be so fucking awkward around you the past few days, and he knew you could sense it, but he had no idea what to do.

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | You.

After eight minutes of Steve’s absence, you huffed as you got up from your seat, pushing through sweaty bodies as you muttered apologies toward the crowd, once you spotted that chestnut layered fluff that Steve called hair, a grin plastered on your face, you called out for him but he was too focused on his conversation with Robin.

You groaned as you tried to make your way over them, but once again unable to when you got blocked, your arm colliding against a body covered in a leather jacket, “Excuse m—” Your stutter turned into a gasp when you lifted your head up, and those honey-glazed brown eyes peered at you, filled with shock and warmth, as if they were staring at you for the first time again.

Eddie.

You couldn’t help the dumbstruck look on your face, mouth agape as you struggled to find the words to speak to him, “H—hey,” He spoke up before you could, and you could tell he was as nervous as you.

“Hi!” You beamed, a fake smile plastered on your face and you wondered if he could tell how fucking awkward this was for you.

“This is awkward, huh?” He chuckled almost as if he was reading your mind, to ease his own worries, not knowing he was also easing yours.

“Yeah, pretty fucking awkward,” You added, a genuine chuckle escaping your lips.

“So, What have you been up to—”  

“How are y—” Both of your questions tangled together as you chuckled in sync. When did everything get so fucking tangled up together that you could barely say hello to him anymore?

Eddie was not a good fit for you as a boyfriend, you knew that.

But he had always been a good friend, and you had missed that.

“You go first!” You beamed, curious to know what he had been up to.

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | Steve

“Well, why don’t you go tell her now?” Robin’s voice distracted Steve’s gaze upon the half-empty red cup he was gripping now, “Huh?” He mindlessly drifted his attention toward Robin.

“She’s there—” Robin pointed toward the crowd, Steve squinted his eyes, while he didn’t have that much of a terrible vision, he couldn’t see that far away without his glasses, he huffed, “Stop fuckin’ with me Buckley,”

“Jesus, you really are a dingus!” Robin face-palmed, dragging Steve toward her view so that he could see better.

“See, she’s right there, right next to—Oh, uh…” Robin stopped mid-sentence and pushed Steve away, “Ow!” He rubbed his chest comfortingly, “What?” He questioned curiously trying to see through the crowd.

“Nothing!” Robin exclaimed nervously trying to push him away, raising Steve’s suspicions more, he huffed as he ignored Robin and attempted to get closer, pushing a few of the bodies in the way, he scoffed when you were still nowhere to be seen, Robin was a lying piece of—

Oh!

There you were.

His face eased, and with every step Steve took he could see you more and more clearly, there you were, giggling and chatting to someone… some douchebag with curly—

Oh.

The world seemed to slow down the more he scanned the two of you, a drink in Eddie’s hand while he had a grin on his face, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear while you giggled at him.

He knew this all too well.

Steve felt like he could throw up, he barely had anything to drink, yet his world was spinning endlessly, a wave of devastation along with anger washed over his senses, and he couldn’t help to clench his fists, attempting to quell the pang of jealousy tearing through his veins.

He didn’t know which was louder, the thumping of the music or his racing heartbeat. And he was starting to feel stupid.

So fucking stupid.

Like an outsider looking in.

Like it was 1986 all over again. The first time he lost you.

He could feel his throat tighten up, the words he had rehearsed in his mind since Friday not daring to escape his lips. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, not when your hands slapped against Eddie’s shoulder while you were giggling, he knew he was torturing himself but he couldn’t look away.

Saturday, June 11, 1988 | You & Steve.

“I’m really glad you’re doing okay, honey.” You could tell he meant it, plump lips framing the words coming out of his mouth with tenderness.

“Me too, Eds, t’was nice catching up with you,” You murmured, “I know things didn’t work out between us…” He gestured toward you, “But I’m glad we could maintain… whatever this is,” You gave him an awkward chuckle, your hand resting on his shoulder as you gave it a gentle squeeze.

You could tell he appreciated it, the grin on his face showing the dimple on his left cheek, “Oh!” He said catching your attention, “You seen Harrington?”

You nodded, “Yeah! He’s getting us drinks, right over th—” Your eyes spotted Robin but Steve was nowhere to be seen now, your brows furrowed, “Huh… I’ll just ask Robin…” You muttered, “But I’ll see you around, yeah?” You added, voice beaming as Eddie gave you a slight nod, curtsying as he opened the way for you, “Thank you,” You giggled, slipping past him as you made your way over to Robin.

“Buckley!” You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the counter as you were happy to see her, “Hi!” Her voice sounded off, that nervous tingle you seemed to know too well.

“Where has Steve disappeared off to?” You attempted to joke, but Robin’s nervous giggle as she pointed toward the backyard was setting you off.

“But I really don’t think he’s in the mood to talk, y’know, I think the dingus just had a little bit too much to—”

“I just want to talk to him,” You interrupted Robin’s ramble as she gave you a slight nod.

What the fuck was going on? The whole night had been blurry enough with the amount of booze and weed in your system and running into your ex, now Robin had been acting weird and Steve had disappeared into the backyard, next to the pool while he had a… joint in his hand?

“Woah,”  

“When did Harrington become cool, huh?” You tried to joke, taking a seat next to him as you pointed toward the joint in his hand, but Steve barely gave you any of his attention.

It felt weird, so fucking weird.

He was never like this with you, and your mind was reveling now, did you do something wrong that you didn’t know about?

“Care to share?” You asked, voice mellow as you wanted to defuse the tension, but Steve didn’t share the same interest as you, he barely looked in your direction as he took another drag from the joint, before he passed it to you.

Your mouth dried up, and you didn’t know what to say to him, stomach churning with the idea that Steve hated you now, and you didn’t know if your heart could ever handle that.

You smiled at him when you took it off his hands, a smile he didn’t return, your heart dropping to your stomach in an instant, hands shaky as they grabbed the joint from his, you studied his expressions nervously.

“So, did you ever end up getting us those drinks,” You murmured, it was an attempt at a joke, “Because last time I saw you, you said—” Before you could finish the sentence, Steve chugged the drink in his cup, handing it toward you.

“Oh, that’s not what I—” You nervously took it from his hands, “T—thank you,”

Then an uncomfortable silence overtook the two of you, the tension growing thicker when you passed him the joint with no word leaving past both your lips.

You couldn’t help but sigh when the silence continued as he gave you the cup again, you set it down as you turned to face him, “Are you okay?” You asked, tone mixed with a tinge of hurt and annoyance.

Steve wasn’t quick to reply, “Yeah.”

But you weren’t going to take that for an answer, “Bullshit,” You didn’t stutter.

“Did something happen? Or did I do something I wasn’t aware of? If so, you should just come up and tell me and not do this bullshit, childish—” Your angry rambling was cut off by Steve’s chuckle, your brows tilted together in annoyance.

“Is this funny to you?” You asked, Steve, for the first time since you had been sitting next to each other, tilted his face toward your direction, and you could fully see it now, his face was etched with anger and hurt.

“Yeah, actually,” He answered, “You have no clue about anything, do you?” His tone was cold and sarcastic.

“Excuse me?” You exclaimed, confusion written all over your face, if this was Steve’s idea of a joke, it was fucking horrible.

He could tell he was crossing the line, if he didn’t back up now, he was going to lose you, as a friend, as everything, and potentially he was going to lose Eddie, too.

 But he couldn’t stop the words from rolling off his tongue when his mind was filled with so many thoughts, “You have no fuckin’ clue about anything,” He wasn’t confident in his words, slurring as his face got closer to yours, inches away.

If he wasn’t so angry at you for whatever reason, you could take his closeness the wrong way, and that excited you, your breath hitching as your gaze focused away from his deep mahogany eyes toward his plump lips.

Steve could sense it, he could sense the shift, tension growing thicker with each of his words, and the way your gaze lingered on his lips… He was getting his hopes up again, his anger was being washed away with guilt now, if he crossed to this territory, he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t— go back.

If he even showed you one fucking side of the feelings he had been bottling up, there was no going back for him, and for his relationship with both you and Eddie.

“Enlighten me, then,” Your annoyance from before was fading away, gaze stuck on his lips as if that was all you could think about, your thigh brushing past his as you felt him let out a slight gasp.

“Don’t,” His tone was firm, demeanor changing entirely when he looked into your gentle eyes, he couldn’t stop himself, he needed to be away from you.

“I—I can’t!” He panicked, confusing you even further when he stood up, your shoulders dropped as you got up with him.

“You can’t what?” You exclaimed, chest-puffing with anger now,  Steve was dizzying you and you couldn’t handle it.

“What the fuck happened? What did I fucking do?” You reached out, grabbing him by the arm to make him face you.

“I can’t fucking do this, right now, Y/N,” He rubbed his hands in his face as if to calm himself.

“Do what?!?” You almost yelled, frustration getting the best of you.

“I can’t handle you with him again!”

And there it was.

Steve’s bottle of feeling was opening up, and this was just the surface.

“I can’t fuckin’ handle seeing you giggle with him,”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t even—I can’t fuckin’ bear to see him stand next to you!” His voice cracked, almost, hints of desperation ever so apparent when he looked at you with such hurt.

“Can’t even handle the way his name rolls off your lips…” He shook his head.

Your mind raced, trying to process the moment, the weight of his words slow to hit you as they boggled your mind, time seemed to stand still as shock washed over your face, “Are—are you implying…” You could barely get the words out, your tone hardly audible.

“Please,” He almost begged, standing so close to you that you could feel his breath fanning against your face, “Don’t.”

“Don’t make me fuckin’ say it,” The more he gazed into your hope-filled eyes, the more he could feel his walls crumbling, you were leaving him so vulnerable and exposed that Steve’s breathing became shallow, desperate to hear your next words.

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, the thoughts, and the ideas swirling around your head were too fast for you to process, the realization of everything sinking in. “Please,” His voice was trembling with emotion, and you didn’t even know what he was pleading for, you were so very desperate to close the gap between the two of you.

And Steve didn’t care anymore, his feelings were all over the place and you were so close to him, almost at the grasp of his hands, that he was sure he would lose his mind this time if he lost you, once again. 

He was trying to determine your facial expressions, mind blank with everything that had unraveled today. You didn’t even need to say anything, the surrounding sounds of the party boomed in your ear, anticipation persisting the space between the two of you.

The soft illuminating light of the moon reflected Steve’s gaze, and god, was he pretty. Without a word, you reached out to him, slow and tender, your hands were quick to cup his cheeks as if to tell him it was okay to do this, as if to tell him you wanted this, more than anything.

Your hold withdrew him from wandering off to the storm that was brewing in his mind, he couldn’t help but lean in, melting into you completely, your lips brushing past his in a hesitant kiss.

And just like that the space around you evaporated, dissipating. And your mouth was soft, so fucking soft.

Steve Harrington has kissed people before—scratch that, Steve Harrington has kissed many people before.

But this was different.

You were different.

Gentle but demanding, soft but rough, and Steve finally understood why falling in love was supposed to feel like losing your mind because he was sure he was fucked in the head by the way he melted into you, almost as if his entire body dissolved into you, utterly and completely.

Your heart was about to explode inside your ribcage, you had never ever experienced anything like this before and you could tell Steve felt the same, feeling your knees growing weaker and weaker as his body pressed against yours.

But just when everything felt so magical, just when you were about to expose yourself fully to him, Steve pulled away.

“Fuckfuckfuck fuck!” He cursed, feeling so fucking stupid, he wanted to rip his hair off for pulling away from the kiss, but he couldn’t—he shouldn’t.  You looked like a deer in headlight with the way you gazed up at him, eyes widened with an innocent look, not knowing the storm of thoughts raging through Steve’s head.

“I—Fuck—I shouldn’t,” He rambled, “I—Can’t,”

“Why?” You implored, desperately.

“I can’t fuckin’ do this,” He shook his head.

“But at the same time, if I don’t tell you everything, I know I’m gonna regret it for the rest of my life…” The more he spoke the more questions appeared in your head.

“It was me,” His voice trembled, and you tilted your head, his words fiddling with your mind further.

The tension lingering in the air as Steve stood silent was going to be the death of you, and you wanted to shake him by the shoulders, tell him to say something, to do something, kiss you again, anything.

“At the Hideout,” He stopped for a second, to gather his thoughts, to gather what he was going to say, and each second that went by his silence felt like hours. 

“It was me.” His words lingered, sticking to your mind as the crashing wave of realization came to you.

another a/n hello: OKAY SO THIS MAYBE A BIT CONFUSING therefore!!! i would love to do a pt.2 for this (esp bc i want to write the hideout incident on that pt.2 so u know the drill, lmk if you want a pt.2 or lmk any of ur thoughts and comments ily &lt;;3)

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Idol!Song Mingi x F!Reader TW : reader is an internatiol ATINY ; nationality unspecified ; pure angst ; long distance relationship ; arguing ; disastrous break up ; heartbreak ; it's just sad ; he's a little bit, slightly yandere ; Word Count : 8.0k A/N : Mingi angst!! Yay! Haven't written for ATEEZ in a good bit! This one is fun! I have full control and I love it! Time for some heartbreak!! This turned a little yandere... But I hope you still like it! Also, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm trying to write as much as I can! Request : Anonny : hi! I was wondering if you could do a mingi angst! I've been reading your angst fics and well just your gifs for like the past year and never had the courage to ask until now! I don't really have specifics and you could just do whatever you want with plot wise or something! I haven't thought about plot and stuff yet, just mingi angst 😭

The last fancall, it was kind of sad, but in a way, also relieving. They got to just relax after this call, they didn’t have to try to understand what an international fan was saying, not that it was a problem, but it was hard, although they’d never expect anyone to learn Korean just for them. They all loved talking to ATINY though, even if it were just a few, they got to personally get to know them for a minute or two, they got to joke with them, laugh with them, even playfully flirt with them. It was just nice to have some kind of interaction with the fans that brought them to where they were today. 

It was your first fancall, you weren’t even sure how you had gotten so lucky to be chosen, but you had been, and when you got the email you screamed so loud that your neighbor started banging on the walls. Something as small as a video call, but it was huge to you, it felt like a dream. Surely, anyone who wasn’t a fan of k-pop wouldn’t understand, they’d probably think you were crazy for getting so excited over something like this… But this just might be the closest you’d ever get to any of them, and it would most definitely be the only time you ever got to talk to them. 

You had done your hair and your makeup and you had changed your outfit about six times before settling on something more casual. It’s not like any of them would remember you anyway, and you weren’t even upset about that, you were just glad to be able to have this opportunity… an opportunity that had you so insanely flustered that you could barely even speak when Hongjoong showed up on your screen. 

How embarrassing it was to sit in front of your favorite idols, not all of them at once, but one by one, they all got to look at you and see you looking so absolutely enamored that they were in fact actual people. The most you could get out was a ‘hello’, and even that was kind of squeaky and they would laugh, which in turn would make you more shy. They were all so nice though, asking you what your favorite song was and who your bias is, even though you couldn’t seem to find your voice. You wondered if things like this happened often. 

Then you got to Mingi, who was last second to last in the lineup. He wasn’t exactly your bias, you didn’t really have one, they were all amazing and attractive in their own personal ways. But damn did he look good. If you were awestruck before, you were completely starstruck now, your eyes widening as you took in his perfect features and just… everything about him. 

“Oh my god…” You said, under your breath you had assumed, but he had to have heard you considering he turned around and looked behind him before looking back at the camera to smile and wave at you. “Hi…” His turn was slightly different, it made you feel different. The other guys had simply looked at you, but it felt like Mingi was really looking at you. What did he see? Did you have something in your teeth? Was your hair messed up? You felt shy, like you were standing right in front of your crush. It was crazy. 

“You ever been to Korea?” He asked, and it was so blunt, but he had this cheeky smile on his face that both eased your nerves and somehow had them going haywire at the same time. You giggled nervously and shook your head no. “You should come, it’s nice here. A lot of pretty girls, you’ll fit right in.” He… He just called you pretty? Was this fan service? It had to be! He was just really really good at it. “Do you have a boyfriend?” None of the other guys had asked you these types of questions, why were things getting so personal? Why didn’t you seem to mind it when it was coming from him? You shook your head no once again. “Good. I’m your boyfriend now. Okay?” 

It probably wasn’t a good time to take a sip of water, not that you had expected him to say something like that, but you spit it out all over your desk, completely in shock at the words that you had just heard him say. There was no way he was being serious right now. His fan service was immaculate. “Oh…Okay!” You stammered out, and you wondered how long this would go on. He had surely passed up the timer. 

“My turn now!!” You heard Wooyoung shout from beside him, and Mingi groaned loudly as his bottom lip jutted out. “I’m gonna steal your girlfriend, deal with it.” He teased, and you let out a small sigh. It was just fan service. You felt kind of foolish for momentarily getting worked up over something that he probably said to 20 other people today. 

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” He asked, his words coming out rushed, and what the hell were you supposed to do? Say no?! You obviously wanted to see him again, that would be awesome, but the chances of you winning a fan call raffle twice were so low, you would be crazy to think that you’d ever have a moment like this again. 

“Yeah… Yeah, you will.” You said, because even though you knew he was just very skilled in acting, you might as well play along with it. For a few short seconds, you had been Song Mingis girlfriend… And now that you had moved to a call with Wooyoung… All you could think about Mingi and his words and the way he looked at you. It drove you crazy… He drove you crazy. He had just become your ultimate bias though!

///

“I’m not gonna be able to go to the Ateez concert.” Your friend mumbled, and part of you, the more selfish part of you, was partially glad that she wasn’t able to go. She had flaunted the fact that she got front row tickets and you hadn’t been able to get even a back seat, they were sold out before payday. “Stupid fucking job, not giving me a day off. I requested it too!” 

“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, trying your best to sympathize with her, but all you could selfishly think was that if you weren’t lucky enough to go, she shouldn’t be lucky enough to go either. “Are you going to sell the ticket? You could get some good profit considering it’s a front row seat.” You quizzed, but the way she was looking at you made you quite uneasy. It looked like she was planning something… or at least thinking of something, and you didn’t know if it was malicious or something else completely. She was hard to read. 

Long, manicured nails tapped against the table top, the sound putting you even more on edge, and then she sighed. “I know that your birthday is coming up, and… well I’m poor because I bought this damn ticket so…” Her shoulders shrugged, but there was a slight, tight lipped smile spreading across her face. “I’m just gonna give it to you. Happy early birthday! Yay! Tell Yuno I love him so much.” 

Your jaw might as well have been on the floor. Was fate really giving you a good hand this year? Was this all that good karma you had earned from being a wonderful citizen in society? “Holy shit… No way! Are you being serious right now?” You just had to be sure. There was no way someone would just give up a front row ticket, especially not for free, even if it were your best friend. There had to be some kind of clause. 

“Yes, I’m serious. Now, accept it before I change my mind and just skip work that day. I would have done that anyway if I didn’t have to pay rent.” She rolled her eyes and sunk down in her seat. “Take as many pictures and videos as you can… for me. Please! That’s all I’m asking for.” You nodded your head firmly, shit, that was the easiest thing you’d have to do. “He’ll probably look so good… Maybe…” 

“No take backs!” You blurted out, your finger waving back and forth as you stared at her, and you hoped that she thought you were just goofing around and that your expression didn’t let on just how panicked you felt just by her words. “I will facetime you just so you feel like you’re actually there… Okay?” She was sulking, as anyone would be, you knew damn well that you would be if you were in the same position as her. 

“Just have fun… And make a big sign, you have to get at least one of them to notice you, especially since you’re front row. Take advantage of those seats, bitch.” She teased, reaching her hands across the table to grab yours as she let out a little squeal, kicking her feet and acting as if she were still the one going. Maybe she was just trying to hype you up. “I gave you the best birthday gift, nobody can top me, they shouldn’t even try.” 

“They should definitely still try though… I mean… I like getting things.” She snorted loudly, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her. She was absolutely crazy and you absolutely adored her. A world without her as your best friend would be dull and boring and you didn’t even want to think about how sad it would be. You would have the best time of your life at that concert, and you’d do it for her. 

///

Picking out an outfit for something like a concert was much harder than picking out an outfit for a video call. This was important, especially since you were going to be in the front row. One of them - hopefully Mingi - would look directly at you at some point. You couldn’t just be casual about it, you had to draw attention to yourself, you had to make sure that you were noticed. This decision felt more crucial than anything else in your life, and that seems quite absurd, but these guys had been the subjects of all your dreams and daydreams, you at least wanted to look good in front of them. 

You had only been to one other concert in your entire life, and it was back during middle school for an indie group when you were going through your “emo” phase. This was bigger than that, you could already tell as you pulled up to the arena and saw the people pouring into the entrance. Your heart was hammering in your chest, it was crazy, you had even gotten there 2 hours early to try to make things easier on yourself but the crowd was already massive. 

The lightstick in your hand was already shaking, but only because of your nerves, but you knew that you couldn’t just sit in the back of the Uber forever, so you climbed out, taking a deep breath before heading into the building. It was somehow more packed inside than it was even outside and it was so insanely congested that it felt more like a train station than an arena for a concert. Did all concert venues look like this or was it just because ATEEZ was performing? 

Since you were front row, you got to go in and watch them warm up… funnily enough, you felt you might miss it considering you didn’t have a single idea where the hell you were going. You were trying your best to navigate through this cluster of people that were just as excited as you were, and you wished that you had someone to help walk you through this whole thing. It was so loud and you were being bumped into, and while they apologized for it, it didn’t make you any less anxious. 

By the time you finally made it in the arena, you were just exhausted. The big sign that you had made and brought along with you had miraculously made it through all of it unscathed, but you were drained. You dropped down into your seat, hoping that your hair and your outfit had survived as well as the sign, but there was no mirror and you didn’t want to risk getting lost on your way to or from the bathroom, so you just had to rely on that hope that you still looked as good as you did when you left the house. 

It felt like you hadn’t even had enough time to really catch your breath or cool off before the guys were walking out on stage. Everyone around you was screaming, but you were so enamored by the sight of them, literally right in front of you, that your mouth was hanging open but no sound was coming out. You had really thought that the video call was the most amazing thing, but now, you were sure that you were wrong. They were legitimately real, they were right in front of you. “Holy shit…” You mumbled to yourself, and for some reason, even though there were still a pretty good amount of people around you, you were self conscious, you were shy, you were nervous. 

They came to the edge of the stage, one by one, and they all walked by and finished hand hearts that other people were making and stayed still long enough to be in selfies with certain people, none of them really stopped for longer than a minute tops… No one, other than Mingi. 

Oh, Mingi… Who had managed to make your heart flutter through a simple video call, he made you feel like you were going crazy… Surely he wouldn’t remember you though. But why… Why did he full stop on your side of the stage? Why did he kneel down in front of you, his eyes locking with yours as his head tilted to the side? Gosh, he was adorable. There was no way that he would notice you after the couple months that had passed. The video call hadn’t lasted long enough for your face to be saved in his memory. Had it? 

The chants of the people beside you seemed to pull him out of whatever trance he was in, and he quickly stood up and scurried along the stage, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he continued to look back at you, his eyes narrowing as if in deep thought. Did he remember you? 

Soon enough they were off the stage and the rest of the stadium began to fill. The noise was much worse inside the arena, the sound just echoing off the walls and filling your ears, and you wondered how people could handle it constantly. You were sure that you’d have a major headache once you got out of there. The sudden influx of people and the growing excitement of the show that was about to begin had taken your mind off of the slightly strange interaction from before. You shouldn’t think so hard about those things, it was foolish and you didn’t want to be delusional. 

As the show started, the screams that you had originally thought to be loud seemed to multiply tenfold and your ears were already ringing. Of course, you had a seat right next to the speaker. Would your eardrums even make it through the night? Were there enough ibuprofen in the world to soothe the awful ache in your head once you got back home? 

It didn’t matter now, you just wanted to enjoy the show. You were here to enjoy the concert, to live the experience… But also, not forget to get enough video footage of Yunho to thank your friend for the ticket. This was something that you wouldn’t be able to do again, at least for a long time. Screw the headache, you should enjoy it while it lasts, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

///

“I swear, I think that’s her in the front row.” Mingi said backstage after the warmups. The guys all stared at him like he was crazy, but he knew that he wasn’t. He knew your face, he knew your eyes, they had filled his dreams every night… They thought he was crazy for that too. “I’m so serious right now. I wouldn’t say it’s her if it wasn’t.” 

Wooyoung snorted, but patted Mingi on the back as he walked by. “Maybe you’re the delusional one. Spotting your dream girl out in the crowd. That’s crazy. Come on, we have to get ready. Get your head out of your ass.” Mingi pouted as he walked over to the stylist and dropped down into his seat beside Hongjoong. 

“I’m being so serious right now. You believe me, right? I mean… You saw her in the call. You know what she looks like. That was her out in the crowd… Right?” Mingi asked, trying to keep his voice down so that Wooyoung wouldn’t come over and completely crush his dreams and rain on his parade. Hongjoong chewed on his bottom lip, looking at Mingi through the mirrors that were in front of them. “You… You believe me… Don’t you?” 

Hongjoong sighed, turning to Mingi with a slight pout. “I didn’t… But if you really believe you saw her, I’m happy for you. I’m not going to tell you that you’re crazy.” He pushed himself up off of his chair and stretched, preparing himself for the show that he was about to put on for all the fans. “It’s almost time to go out there…” 

“Yeah! Maybe you’ll see your girlfriend!” Wooyoung chimed in, seemingly coming from out of nowhere. “It’s okay to be delusional, bud. I’m not judging you for it.” Although it seemed like he was judging him a lot for it, Mingi tried to avoid the teasing and focus more on the fact that he was about to head out on stage in less than five minutes. 

He was so nervous though, not for the reasons that most would think though. Being up on stage in front of thousands of people wasn’t the issue, it was being up on stage in front of you. What were the chances of you winning a fancall and being at a show too? It’s like the universe was trying to bring the both of you together. He truly believed that. He couldn’t think of any other reason for those two things to happen. Especially with you being right in front… Front row seats, like he was meant to see you. It wasn’t a coincidence, it couldn’t be, and he knew that it was you. Your face was unforgettable to him. He daydreamt about it every day, he would have dreams of you every night. He couldn’t get you out of his head. 

///

The speakers in front of you send vibrations through the air around you, you could feel it in your muscles, in your bones. The entire arena went dark for a moment, and then you heard the crowd roar as they walked out. You had already seen them once during their warm up, but it was like the first time again, your breath held in your lungs as they walked out, the music crescendoing the closer they got to the edge of the stage. 

It felt like when you ride a rollercoaster, the slow climb to the top of the hill, and you knew that the edge was coming soon, that feeling of falling, excitement and fear all in one… But this time there was no fear, it was just the strange tingly feeling in your stomach, that last breath of air before you’d let it all out in one loud scream. 

Building and building, their bodies like shadows in the darkness, and then with one click the spotlights turned on and they were illuminated, the bright lights shining on each and every one of them, but you were only looking specifically at one. An audible gasp left your lips as you seemed to once again lock eyes with Mingi.

Your hands shook as you held up the sign that you had made, feeling quite foolish now as it was hoisted above your head. “Call Me Mingi”, with your phone number written neatly at the bottom. It was a joke, one that your friend had laughed about right alongside you as she added the glitter to the glue hearts that had been neatly placed along the board. 

It was crazy, you and your friend both agreed to that, but it was probably a good switch up from the typical signs that asked the idols to marry them. What was even crazier though was when Mingi pulled out his phone, aiming it in your direction and snapped a quick photo. You couldn’t be delusional, being delusional wasn’t good for your heart or your mind, but you also couldn’t help but think that maybe he took the photo so that he could check back on the sign… So that he could call you… 

The rest of the concert felt more like a blur, stuck in your own mind thinking about what Mingi could have wanted that picture for. You didn’t see any of the other guys taking pictures of the crowd… Or maybe you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice if they did. You couldn’t stop thinking about it though, and before you knew it, the concert was over and you couldn’t even remember the setlist or the last song they played before the main lights in the arena turned back on and everyone began filing out. 

Your friend was going to kill you, you hadn’t gotten a single video of Yunho for her. You honestly were quite pissed at yourself as well. This is why delusions aren’t good at all. You missed the whole concert, one that you most likely were never going to be able to experience ever again, because you were too busy thinking about whether Song Mingi, a literal idol, would make the time to call someone like you. 

///

“You didn’t get a single video of Yunho!? Oh my god!” Your friend whined as you laid in bed, your phone next to your head, not even on speaker, but her voice was loud enough that it didn’t need to be. “Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t go to the concert. I can’t afford to be a delulu as your ass.” 

“I’m sorry!” You mumbled, throwing your hands over your face and letting out a loud groan. “I just… I’m not even thinking about him calling my number at this point. I just don’t want him to post a picture of it online and have a bunch of people trying to call me or text me, you know?” You explained, finally getting over your delusions and moving onto a safer, yet still highly panic inducing train of thought. 

“Oh! Your phone is going to be blowing up! You’ll finally be super popular!” Your friend teased, snorting loudly as she said it, but you could only muster a slightly annoyed shut up in response before your phone started vibrating. “It begins! Maybe he did post it!” 

“Oh hell no! I’ll call you back!” You said quickly, ending the call with your friend to quickly answer the incoming call. “Look. I don’t know where you got my number, but if it’s from where I think it is, I will not tolerate unsolicited calls. This is harassment.” 

“Oh…” The voice on the other end was quite timid, but you could tell it was a guy. He sounded kind of nervous, and although all of you wanted to believe who you thought it was, you didn’t want to go down that road again, at least not tonight. “But your number was on the sign… I thought you wanted the phone call.” 

“The sign was a joke!” You explained exasperatedly, kicking your legs like a toddler in the store who was throwing a temper tantrum. You surely didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Unless you are Song Mingi, I’d advise you to hang up the phone and find someone else to bother this late at night.” 

There was a chuckle, although the sound was slightly muffled, but it was extremely agitating that someone found this funny. As if harassment was something comical nowadays. “So I shouldn’t hang up the phone then… Right?” You scoffed loudly, finally getting up from your bed and pacing around your room, something that you often did when you were just too annoyed to sit still. 

“Look, this isn’t funny. If you’re doing this to mess with me, I’m sure you’ve already had your fun. I’m trying to get some sleep, I’m exhausted. It would be really cool of you to not fuck with people like this.” The words came out in huffed breaths, you were beyond pissed, not just at whoever this person was, but at yourself for being stupid enough to put your number out so publicly just on the small chance that someone like Song Mingi would actually dial your number. 

A soft hum, and then your phone started vibrating again, this time an invite to a video call that you surely weren’t up to accepting. You let it continue ringing until it ended, and you thought that it would be a one and done type of thing, but then it started vibrating again. “Just for a second, you don’t even have to be on the camera, I just want to show you something.” 

You didn’t exactly mean to laugh as loudly as you did, but you had heard that line one too many times in your lifetime to trust it. “Look bud, I don’t want to see a live action shot of your dick and balls. I wasn’t born yesterday.” You snarkily shot back, and the audible gasp that came through your speaker had it crackling slightly. 

“Who did that to you? That’s disgusting… Hold up. We don’t have to call. I’ll just… Send you a selfie real quick. Not of my dick and balls.” Were you so annoyed that you were laughing, or did you actually find him funny? You weren’t sure, but regardless of what it was, you laughed at his little quip, your hand moving over your mouth so that the guy didn’t think he was actually getting anywhere right now. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand once again, and luckily it was only once, but when you went to your texts, you were met with a selfie of the guy that was on the other end of the line… The guy that the sign had been made for. “I call bullshit!” You blurted out, because there was no way in hell your little glitter bomb sign would have worked. You just couldn’t fathom it.

“Reverse image search it then. It doesn’t exist anywhere else than in your messages.” He said rather bluntly, quite cockily too. Now that you were really listening to his voice though, you couldn’t deny that it sounded all too familiar to the voice you heard at the concert, and not just that, but the voice you had heard in your phone before when you had won the fancall. You were stunned into silence, you didn’t know what to say or what to do next, and he could tell. “You believe me now?” 

“Mmhm…” Was all you could mutter, because what else were you supposed to say? How were you supposed to think of anything coherent when you were currently in a very real, very one on one call with Song Mingi… Or was it one on one? Did his managers know about this call? Were they just standing around him listening to every word you and him say? Did they freak out when he sent the selfie to you? 

“So… I’m going to be here… Close to you… For another two days…” What was he hinting at? Ain’t no way he was hinting at what you thought he was… right? “If you want to meet up for lunch or dinner… or something…” Holy shit he was. “I know that this is crazy, I just needed to be sure…” 

“Sure of what?” You asked, and your heart felt like a freight train, speeding straight to your ribcage and you were sure it was going to shoot out in a matter of seconds. 

“I… I need to be sure that I do actually like you…” 

///

Two days wasn’t enough, but in a sense, it was for him. It felt like a dream when he finally met up with you, even though he had to practically disguise himself from the public, it felt nice to just be able to sit across from you for lunch and talk to you. It didn’t take long for him to be 100… No… 500% sure that you were the woman that he wanted to be with. Love worked in crazy ways, but he trusted it, because the odds of everything lining up so perfectly to get to this moment… It was fate, it had to be. 

The way your body froze for a second before melting against his when he so suddenly pressed his lips to yours. It was a spur of the moment thing, but it felt right, and he needed to kiss you now because he knew that the moment wouldn’t come again for a long time. It wasn’t supposed to lead to anything more, it wasn’t what he had planned, but before either of you could really think twice, you were falling back onto the hotel mattress and he was falling on top of you. 

In that moment, it was like his heart grew ten times bigger, and laying beside you, your hair carelessly clinging to your sweat covered forehead as you dozed peacefully beside him… Love wasn’t hard to find, the world was just waiting to bring the one you were supposed to love to you. That’s how he felt, and he believed it wholeheartedly. How could he not when he felt like he was falling deeper and deeper in love with you with every soft breath that escaped your lips. 

To live in that moment forever, both bodies hidden underneath wrinkled sheets, his feet hanging out from the end of the blanket, your arm draped lazily over his bare chest. Could you feel his heart beating beneath his skin? It seemed like now it was only beating for you. He saw his future flash before his eyes, mornings like this, every morning like this, just waking up beside you, being able to see your beautiful face as soon as he opened his eyes. What a wonderful future it would be to spend it with you. 

Falling in love was easy when it was with you, but it was hard… It was hard because he knew he couldn’t stay with you, at least not in person. He had to go back to Korea, he had to finish the rest of the tour. His heart felt like it was connected to yours entirely, and having to leave you behind was going to be painful… But it would work. He’d make it work, solely because he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. 

“I wish I could take you with me…” He whispered, and while he knew that that wish couldn’t be granted, not yet at least, he had been able to swindle security to pick you up just so that he could ride with you to the airport, so that he’d be able to see you one last time before he had to go. “I’ll message you… I’ll call you every day.” 

“What if you get bored?” You practically whimpered, and his heart cracked at the question. How could he ever get bored of you? He had spent months before the concert just thinking about you before he even knew where you lived or what you were truly like. He had been loyal to the singular thought of you. There was no way that he’d give up so easily when he finally had you and was able to call you his. 

“I’d never get bored, baby. I’ll wait, always… Until we can be together.” He reassured you, his hands cupping your cheeks gently as he wiped away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry. I’ll start crying and then I won’t be able to get out of the car because I won’t want to leave you…” He kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose before leaning back and giving you a smile that had his eyes disappearing momentarily. It was your favorite smile, you had told him multiple times, and it always seemed to cheer you up. 

“I’m sorry…” You sniffled, leaning forward and resting your head against his chest. Could you hear his heart now, could you hear how fast it was beating for you? “You should go now… I don’t want you to miss your flight.” The words sounded choked out, and he would have said more, but he knew that his words would come out the same way. 

For some people, two days wasn’t even enough to be acquaintances, but for him, two days was enough for him to feel like his heart belonged to you completely. You were his soulmate, his everything, without a doubt… He wouldn’t even look at another woman, he wouldn’t be able to look at anything without somehow finding a way to see you in whatever it was. He loved you with every ounce, every fiber of his being. 

“I’ll… I’ll try to make a stop here after the tour… I’ll visit you again… Before I go back to Korea… Okay?” He held out his pinky to lock with yours, twisting his hand and pressing his and your thumbs together. “Wait for me… Always wait for me, okay?” You nodded your head quickly, your nose scrunched up in the most adorable way as the tears continued to fall down your cheeks. With one last kiss, he was moving away, closer to the door. He hated goodbyes. “Get her home safe, okay… Please.” He told the driver who simply nodded, and then he was gone. 

The windows were tinted, and although he knew that you could see him constantly looking back at you through the windows, he couldn’t see you at all. The last image of you that he held in his mind was your tear stained cheeks and the expression of sadness as he let go of your finger and your hand dropped back down to your lap. He wished he could take you with him, but life just wouldn’t allow that… Not right now at least. 

///

For a good amount of time, you both kept in touch with each other frequently. Hell, you even had your first argument as soon as he got back to Korea because he pinky promised that he’d come visit you before he left, but he didn’t. It was quickly solved though, because one of the main things the two of you had going for the relationship was communication. He promised that when he had free time he would come visit you for a week, and you held onto that promise just as you had held onto the one from before. 

You would talk about how your day was, all the little things that happened, regardless of time difference or schedules, you both always found a way to keep in contact. For months your nights would end with video calls from him, and his nights would end with video calls from you. Everything was perfect, he truly felt that way. 

But soon the messages came in less often, it seemed like you were always busy doing something when he wanted to talk. He’d call you at night and you wouldn’t answer, always miraculously not having your phone with you or on when the call would come in. He didn’t understand it, and when he went to one of the other members to talk, he didn’t want to hear what they had to say either. 

There was no way that you were getting tired of him. You couldn’t be getting bored… Because he promised you that he wouldn’t get bored. It would be hypocritical for you to ask him if he’d get bored of you and then… then get bored of him. 

The thought stuck with him though, and while that would usually make most people give up, it just made him try harder. He messaged you as much as he could, he sent you constant pictures, he tried to call you whenever he knew you’d be on a lunch break or when you’d usually get off work. Your responses were always so dry though. Were you trying to get rid of him? Had he done something wrong? He was doing his best, it’s not like he enjoyed being so far away from you. It had only been 3 months… He was willing to wait forever to be with you… Why couldn't you do the same for him? 

“Hey baby, how did you sleep?” Nowadays he felt nervous when he texted you. He didn’t know whether he’d get a one word reply or no reply at all. It felt pathetic that the days he’d get the one word replies were his favorite, but you had been leaving him on read so often now that even the smallest response felt like a win to him. 

“I think we should talk…” A five word reply, and while the words didn’t sit right with him and they made his stomach do flips, it was nice. It was nice to think that you wanted to talk to him, regardless of what it was about. 

“Yeah sure! I’m down to talk, do you want to call? I haven’t seen you in a while. I miss you!” 

“No calling… It’ll just make this harder.” Make what harder? What were you going to say that could possibly be so hard? You weren’t… leaving him… were you? You couldn’t be… He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was devoted to you, he was loyal to you in every way. You weren’t just going to give up on him that easily… Were you? 

“Well, whatever it is that you have to say, I want you to know that I love you. I can’t wait to see you again!” Maybe that text would make you rethink whatever it was that you were about to send. If you knew that he loved you, although he did tell you every single day, maybe you’d realize that whatever you were planning on doing wasn’t the right thing to do. 

“Mingi… I can’t keep this up. I… found someone else…” 

“No you didn’t… No you didn’t!” He was already crying even though he wanted his mind to just forget that he had even read that text. “You love me! Don’t you love me?!” You had to love him… Why else would you have been so sad in the car when he went to the airport? “Is this because I couldn’t visit you after the tour was over? I’m sorry! I’ll come visit you! I’ll buy a plane ticket right now!” 

“It’s not that… I need someone that’s here with me. I don’t just want to keep repeating the same conversations every single day. The schedule differences and… Everything is stacked up against us… We weren’t going to work.” 

How could you say something like that? He was doing everything he possibly could to make it work. He was the one putting in all the effort. He was the one staying up later than he should just to be able to call you and message you when you were free. “No… You just didn’t want it to work… I still do!” His fingers moved like lightning across his screen, his eyes blurred with the tears that he was trying so hard to hold back. “You can’t decide something like that.. If you would have talked to me… We could have made it work.” 

Did you know that you were killing him, that you were breaking his heart? Would you take the words back if he told you? “I don’t want to argue with you… I just wanted you to know…” Were you as nonchalant as your texts made it seem you were? You really didn’t care… But maybe… Maybe if he gave you some time… A bit of time you’d come to realize that you did love him. He won’t message you… He’ll let it simmer… Maybe you’ll end up missing him and messaging him first. 

So he waited, and days turned into weeks, and he thought he’d be able to wait a month, but then you started posting on Instagram. You looked so happy in your pictures, you looked absolutely gorgeous, and the smile that you were wearing was the same one you had given him during those two days he got to be with you. He swiped through, and he was fine… Maybe not as fine as he wanted to be, but he was fine with seeing the pictures of just you. It brought back happier memories of when he was able to actually be with you. Then he got to the last picture, the guy that you were currently with, he assumed, his arms around you and his lips planted to your cheek. 

As if your words hadn’t been enough to have his heart breaking in two, the pictures felt like you were purposely throwing it in his face that he couldn’t be with you, that he couldn’t make you happy. He couldn’t stand seeing it, he was pissed, he was devastated, he wanted to lash out and he wanted to cry. Why were you doing this to him? What had he done? 

There wasn’t a single thought in his mind as he closed the instagram app and went to kakao, not even bothering to text you before his thumb slammed down on the call button. He didn’t care if you answered the first time, he’d just keep calling until you did, and that’s exactly what he had to do. It took 6 times for your exasperated breath to come through the speaker when you finally answered, but he wasn’t going to give you any time to complain. 

“Did you post it to piss me off or upset me? Because you did both! I guess you’re really winning now, aren’t you? You got to break up with a k-pop idol and break his heart! Good for you!” Right off the bat he was ranting, and maybe he sounded a little bit psychotic, maybe he sounded just slightly obsessed, but when you’re in love with someone, isn’t that how it should be? 

The sound of a man talking in the background had Mingis ears perking up. Were you with the guy still? Oh, how he wished the guy would get on the phone, he’d love to have a word with him. “You’re being ridiculous. I had a clear, logical reason to break up with you. I didn’t do it to hurt you or piss you off. I just wanted to be happy.” How could you sound so sad when you were the one that left him. He didn’t do this! You did! 

“What about my happiness?!” He screeched, running his hand through his hair. He had become aware of the rest of the guys all coming into the room to check on him, but he didn’t care enough to stop. You were going to listen to what he had to say, and those that decided to stick around would have to listen to it too. “You gave up on everything… You’re so selfish! And you weren’t even going to tell me!” 

“I was going to tell you!” You shouted back, and for some reason, it made him kind of excited to hear you fighting back. Something about hearing you get emotional over his words… It had butterflies swarming his stomach. “I didn’t even have time to fully think about how I was going to tell you, but you kept fucking messaging me and-” 

“Of course I kept messaging you! You were my girlfriend and I hadn’t heard from you! Don’t try to act like I’m the bad guy when you’re the one who was practically cheating on me!” While he was angry, he was also struggling to keep from laughing. It would probably sound a bit maniacal to start laughing right now though, and that’s the last thing he wanted. He just found it so cute, the way you were swearing and breathing so heavily, he could almost perfectly envision your face right now. 

You huffed loudly, and the sound was so beautiful to him. Maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t hung up yet… You were still making time out of your day that you were spending with your boyfriend to focus on him. “I don’t know why you’re being such an asshole right now… I didn’t do anything to you. I never cheated on you… We… What we had… It couldn’t even be considered dating… We were only together for two days…” 

Now he was laughing though, his head falling back as the sound built in his chest. “Yeah okay! Let’s just hope that your boyfriend doesn’t have to go out of town or leave the country for more than a week. You might replace him too!” He shot back and he could almost hear the eye roll from your end. “Maybe you’re not actually meant for relationships, you just want someone to physically dote upon you daily. Sorry I couldn’t fit your selfish needs into my already busy schedule.” 

A small sniffle and the shuffling of fabric, maybe you were wiping your tears or maybe your wonderful boyfriend had come over to wipe them for you. “You’re being unnecessarily mean to me right now…” You whispered, sniffling again before swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry that you’re hung up… And I’m sorry that my happiness is upsetting you. I’m not asking you to stick around though… I’m not forcing you to. You don’t have to stalk my life… You can unfollow me.” 

Of course he wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t imagine not seeing you on his feed when he opened Instagram, or not having your messages to look back on when he missed you too much. “You’re happiness won’t last long… You’re too selfish to be truly happy with anyone. The first time you can’t get exactly what you want, you give up. Have fun with that.” 

“I-” He quickly hung up, and it was only then that it sank in what he had done… And a wide smile spread across his face. He’d be kicking his feet if they weren’t touching the floor over the edge of the bed. The call only lasted 20 minutes tops, but hearing your voice that long… It was amazing, it made his heart beat a mile a minute and that familiar warm and fuzzy feeling washed over him. 

“Dude… What the fuck?” Wooyoung finally spoke up, concern masking the man's features as he stared at Mingi on the bed. No one had ever heard him talk like that before, and truthfully, he looked and was acting like a complete psychopath right now. “Who was that? What’s going on right now?” 

“I found a way to talk to her…” Mingi said, his chest rising and falling heavily as he let himself drop back onto the bed. He was happy, the happiest he’s been in weeks. “She’ll keep talking if we argue… I just have to keep arguing with her… Then she’ll come back to me. She’ll realize how much she misses me… This’ll work. I know it will.”

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