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bensolosbluesaber · 3 years

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Returning a Favor (Zemo x Reader fic)

TFATWS Ep. 4 Spoilers!!

Summary: When your old friend, Sam Wilson, needs your help in Riga you drop everything and go. You knew they broke Baron Helmut Zemo out of jail, but you didn't expect to bond with the villain. (AKA: I thought getting hit in the face by the Shield would at least leave a bruise. Here's how that would go down with a fourth person.)

CW: Blood, wounds, some creepy behavior (not from Zemo), a few Y/N inserts

No smut yet, just cute cuddles and taking care of each other. Maybe smut in the future though! Let me know if you want a Part 2 or added to a tag list for potential future fics! I think the reader can be any gender; I tried to write it that way and be inclusive, but please tell me if I messed up!

If you know me in real life, no you don't:) I write most of my fics on @aurora521 and write on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same name. Please don't come for me about finding Zemo attractive.

Hope you enjoy!

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Returning a Favor

Meet me in Riga. -S

That was the text you received from Sam Wilson, your old military friend, yesterday. And now here you are, outside the Riga airport walking toward Sam in traditional undercover superhero attire- a baseball hat and sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted. “We have a little problem.”

“Is his name Baron Helmut Zemo by chance?” You asked, following him to a jet black sports car.

You were very aware of just what type of trouble Sam was getting himself into since you, a SWORD agent, still had access to all kinds of classified information.

“See for yourself,” Sam muttered, gesturing to the back door of the car and climbing in the driver's seat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and slid into the back. And yes, Zemo was there, lounging back with legs spread. He’s wearing a long coat with fur lining, a deep purple shirt, black pants, and shiny leather shoes. He nods to you and smirks ever so slightly. Bucky Barnes, who you had only heard about but recognized immediately, turns from his spot in the front seat and smiles at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N,” he says.

“And I you,” you respond.

Sam pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The ride is mostly silent, Sam and Bucky bickering occasionally. That made you smile, knowing that as much as Bucky annoyed Sam, this was the type of relationship he craved. Zemo watched you the entire drive, sizing you up.

The home they’re staying at is obviously the Baron's. He’s comfortable there, leaning against the counters, rifling through cabinets, lounging on the couch.

“So what am I doing here?” You finally asked.

The three men interact easily, and either Sam or Bucky is always watching Zemo. There’s no real need for a fourth person to get involved, at least not in your mind.

“Someone needs to babysit the Baron,” Sam explained with an annoyed sigh.

Zemo shrugged with a smirk so innocent it’s sinister. He’s still wearing that ridiculous coat.

“The two Avengers can’t handle him?”

“I believe your friends find it challenging to be around me,” Zemo answered for Sam.

“You shot a man in the head yesterday!” Sam snapped. “You antagonize Bucky at every turn. Forgive us for needing a break from whatever is happening in your fucked up head.”

Zemo tilts his head as if agreeing with everything Sam had just said.

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. “We have a lead on Karli. You can sleep off some jet lag while we’re gone, but starting tonight it’s your turn to keep track of him.”

You settled into a small bedroom. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. At home it’s nearly ten at night; here it’s midday.

The trio is back all too soon, heralded by a slam of a door, and you force yourself to wake up to adjust to the time change as rapidly and effectively as possible. As you open the door to the living room, Bucky is stalking toward Zemo. He grabs the teacup from Zemo’s hand and hurls it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, staring at Zemo with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him,” Sam jumped up and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly. Zemo stops tilting his head.

“Let me make a call,” Sam says and walks away.

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offers Bucky with a mocking tone.

“No. You go ahead,” Bucky hissed, and after a moment of staring, he followed Sam out of the room.

You had watched Zemo for that entire exchange, noticed the slightest flinch and hint of fear when Bucky had grabbed that cup. The moment the other two men are gone and Zemo thinks he’s alone, he pours himself another cup. His hand is steady, but he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.

You move out of the room, and Zemo looks up at you from his spot on the couch. Without a word, you walk into the kitchen, taking a roll of paper towels and carefully picking up the shattered glass.

“I can do that,” Zemo says, speaking directly to you for the first time.

His voice is calm, accent thick.

“It’s alright,” you answer, then gasp sharply as a piece slices your pointer finger from tip to palm. “Fuck.”

You set the bloody piece with the pile of glass and hold a paper towel to your hand. You used the other hand to wipe tea off the wall and floor before picking up the glass piled on a paper towel and placing it in the trash, carefully tucked in other garbage.

“Let me.”

Zemo’s voice behind you makes you jump. You eye him for a moment wondering if there is some ulterior motive, some way he could hurt you or hold you hostage. Nothing comes to mind, not with Sam and Bucky so close, so you hold out your bleeding hand. He clicks his tongue at the wound.

When he takes your hand in his, his fingers are soft and warm. He moves your wound under a faucet and lets water run, rinsing the blood down the sink. He squeezes the wound a bit, and you wince as it begins to bleed more.

“We bleed to clean our wounds. It is the body’s way of protecting itself,” he says and presses a towel to your finger as he shuts off the water. “Ironic isn’t it. The very thing meant to protect us from future danger, often kills us first.”

“I’m not here to debate the ethics of superheroes with you.”

“Hold that,” he lets go of your hand and opens another cabinet. “I know how I feel about enhanced humans. There is nothing for me to debate.”

Zemo takes your hand back in his. You watch his face as he works. He uses his mouth to remove the wrapping from a butterfly bandage. The bleeding has slowed, and he uses the bandage to pull your torn skin back together. The cut isn’t terrible, certainly not the worst injury you’ve ever had, but it will scar. He adds two more strips, then places an absorbent pad over it and wraps it all in gauze.

“When we get back, I’ll change that for you.”

“I’ll hope you don’t get killed then,” you offer with a grateful smile.

He doesn’t respond but gestures to you to join on the couch. You do, keeping what you feel is a safe distance between the two of you. Zemo hands you a cup of warm tea, but as you grab it, he doesn’t let go. Your undamaged fingers brush his for a long moment and he chuckles.

“Promise not to take after your friend James? I quite like this tea set.”

Your eyebrows knit together as he smiles at his own joke and finally surrenders the cup to you. That’s the last words you two exchange, and when Bucky and Sam return ready for the next part of the mission, they find the two of you sitting in silence sharing a pot of tea.

___

When the three men returned, Sam and Bucky held an unconscious Zemo between them. You jumped off the couch, the book you had been reading discarded, and let them lay Zemo down.

“What happened?”

“John Walker,” the two men answered in the same disgusted tone.

You leaned over Zemo, finally seeing the blood and bruise on his right temple.

“This one disappeared for a few minutes, shot Karli-”

“Didn’t kill her,” Sam interrupted, sounding relieved.

Much like Sam, you sympathized with Karli’s motives if not her methods. And much like Sam, you were glad she hadn’t died.

“Then Walker knocked him out with the shield,” Bucky finished.

There was no jab at Sam this time for which you were grateful.

“Which is the only useful thing he did,” Sam added. “Zemo destroyed the rest of the serum, so right now he’s above Walker in my book.”

You looked down at Zemo, blood had dripped down his face and neck, though most of it was dried now. His eyelids twitched as he slept.

“Are you two okay?” You asked as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Fine. We ditched Walker, but we’ll need to get out of here as soon as we figure out what to do with Karli,” Sam answered, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.

You dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and on your way back to the living room, grabbed the first aid kit Zemo had used on you earlier.

“What are you doing? He’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered.

He was sitting next to Sam now.

“Returning a favor,” you answered as you knelt at Zemo’s side.

You dabbed at the drying blood with the cloth, wiping it off his cheek, out of his hair. Somehow the coat came out unscathed. Sam and Bucky were talking about something behind you, but you were entirely focused on the unconscious man.

Zemo had a handsome, aristocratic face, and he walked like royalty, like he was untouchable. This was evidence he wasn’t.

You moved to the actual wound next. The cloth was soft, unreasonably so. A large hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing tightly. You inhale sharply and shift your gaze to Zemo’s hand then his eyes. When your eyes met his, he seemed to relax, releasing you and letting his hand fall at his side.

“Apologies,” he grunted, mouth twitching with pain.

“It’s alright,” you answer calmly, very aware that the other men had stopped talking and were fixated on a potential threat. “Turn your head please.”

You put a hand on his cheek and turned him to face you to get a better look at the wound that was still seeping slowly.

“The new Captain America might force me to reconsider my stance on superheroes. I would enjoy seeing Sam and James have a go at him,” Zemo said as you prod the wound.

You wiped the cut with antiseptic, and Zemo hissed a bit at that but said nothing. Then, just like he had done to you, you placed three butterfly bandages on the cut. It wasn’t deep, just long and jagged.

“You’re my new favorite,” he joked with a little grin.

You laughed and walked to the kitchen for some ice. There were no packs, so you grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and set it gently on Zemo’s temple.

“I can’t have you dying when I need this changed tonight,” you said, holding up a finger.

When you turned around, Sam and Bucky had both stretched out on the couch. They both wore annoyed expressions that Zemo got a whole couch and they got one to share. Bucky bumped Sam’s foot with his own, much to your amusement and Sam’s annoyance. He kicked his partner back, and you decided not to interrupt their little couples spat. Instead, you move to sit on the ground.

Zemo grabbed your wrist again, this time gently. He tucked his legs up, folding them into a V, and motioned you to share his couch. And you did, sitting in the same spot you had earlier, this time near his feet still clad in shiny black leather shoes.

“Hey, you two,” Sam called. “What’s this cozy little couch situation going on here?”

“You two could have a cozy little couch situation too if you’d just talk to each other,” Zemo shot back.

He didn’t even look at Sam, just held the frozen vegetables to his face, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Zemo asked after a moment. “Can you get me an Advil? Or better yet, some sort of alcoholic beverage?”

“I’m not your servant, Zemo,” you sighed but stood and poured him a glass of some expensive alcohol from a bottle with Sokovian writing.

He sipped it, setting it on his chest between sips as he lounged on the couch with you. Bucky was watching you out the corner of his eye, and you were watching Zemo. Every few sips he would grimace, his lips pressing together and chest catching. Then he’d relax, exhale softly and shift the peas back into place. Eventually you picked up your book and began to read again.

Sam left the room to take a phone call a few hours later and came back shaking.

“Karli threatened Sarah, my nephews. I have to meet with her. Alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky jumped in, already on his feet. “Walker will be there, and you can’t handle the Super Soldiers and Captain Propaganda on your own.”

Zemo was either asleep or doing a good job pretending beside you. The pea bag had been returned to the freezer. He’d discarded his coat and was now wearing only his black pants and a deep purple shirt with shoulder holsters.

“You got him?” Sam pointed to the sleeping man.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you answered, setting the book aside and watching them prepare to leave.

Both men donned their costumes, Sam strapping his wings on, Bucky ripping the sleeve off of yet another jacket so his metal arm could move freely.

“Call me- us if you need backup,” you shouted after them, knowing full well they would do no such thing.

“If we aren’t back in two hours, take his ass back to jail,” Bucky called back.

Baron Zemo woke up the minute the door slammed shut, which made you doubt he’d been sleeping at all.

“And now it is only us,” he said in that thick Sokovian accent. “I will cook us something for dinner.”

He moved into the kitchen, boiling a pot of water while you watched. You perched yourself on the counter near him as he searched through cabinets. When he noticed you, he paused and chuckled before returning to the cooking. You watched in silence, keeping a close eye on him when he picked up a knife and began chopping tomatoes from a can.

He handed you a bowl of thin noodles with a thick red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“A traditional and simple Sokovian dish, a comfort food you might say,” he explained and joined you on the counter. “I made enough for Sam and James. Call me an optimist.”

Zemo didn’t talk much, you realized, as you enjoyed the food in silence. It was delicious, a bit like pasta. Suddenly, the back door clicked open. You glance around nervously, realizing just how wrong this felt.

“They shouldn’t be back yet,” you say quietly. “And they wouldn’t come in the back.”

“My old associates must have found me,” Zemo jumps off the table, and you notice the same nervousness as when Bucky threw the cup. He cannot know about James or Sam.”

You can hear a single person strolling toward the kitchen in heavy boots.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Zemo whispered, and before you could even process the words, he was standing between your legs and pressing his lips to yours.

His movements are slow and careful, trying not to be invasive as he moves his hands to your back, sliding one up to the back of your head. You wrap an arm around his waist and slide the other hand up the front of his purple shirt, splaying your fingers across his chest. His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling away, not that you’d want to.

“I heard you were back in Riga,” a new voice chuckled. “I had to see for myself.”

Zemo pulls back, feigning surprise, but kept an arm protectively around you.

“And as you have undoubtedly noticed, I am quite busy,” he replied. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I’d prefer not to discuss our business in front of…”

Zemo nods to you. You were staring at the man who you recognized from work files. He was a former Shield agent. When Shield fell, he used the chaos for his own advantage, working for neither Shield nor Hydra and killing anyone who stood in his way. You suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that some of your best friends had been killed by him. Fortunately, you had enough self-control not to shoot him. His mere presence made you tense and uncomfortable.

“Of course, Baron,” he grinned and look at you in a way that made you shift closer to Zemo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, noon. The usual place.”

He gave the two of you one last look and left with a wink to Zemo. Even when the other man had gone, Zemo’s hands were still holding you against him.

“We will have to be gone before noon tomorrow,” he said looking down at you.

For some reason, you were both still wrapped around each other.

“You know who he is?” Zemo said, a statement masquerading as a question. “I am sorry.”

Your face was only inches from him, and you could smell his cologne. Zemo used the hand on your head to pull you against his shoulder. You set your head there, face turned into his neck, and inhaled deeply. And there he sat and you stood, hugging tightly for no real reason except that no one else was there.

Zemo pressed a soft kiss to your head, and rather than protest you let his lips linger. Finally, his head fell on your shoulder. After a moment, he slid you off the counter, took your hand, and led you back to the couch. Without asking, the two of you settled together on the couch, so close your sides pressed against each other. He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster, and you froze until he set it down on the table, smirking a little.

“I don’t make a habit of shooting people I’ve just kissed,” he chuckled and raised an arm for you to lean against him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness. You shouldn’t be, after all, he had just kissed you and held you on the counter of his kitchen. Helmut Zemo made no sense to you, but in the end, you curled against him. He shifted to lay on his back, head propped on the pillows he was laying on earlier while you tucked yourself beside him, head on his chest.

Zemo wrapped an arm around you. You put a hand on his chest, fingering the purple shirt. He was warm and soft, and you had to remind yourself that you could not fall asleep while you are supposed to be watching him.

“Why are we doing this?” You whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Zemo turns his head toward you.

“I haven’t had someone to do this with in a long time,” you answer slowly, cautiously, knowing full well this was a man who could turn on you on an instant or hold onto information until the moment it was advantageous to him.

“Neither have I,” He replied. “German prisons don’t allow much physical contact. Besides, I hope that with enough time perhaps I may kiss you again.”

You tilted your head up to see a grin tugging at the side of his lips, lips that had been on yours a few minutes ago.

“Maybe with enough time,” you answer and brush a lose strand of hair out of his eyes, letting your hand trail over the bruise on his face.

He caged your hand in his, bringing your joined hands back to his chest and holding them there. You felt the rise and fall of his breaths and it soothed you. When they grew deep and steady and the tension seemed to fall from his body, you realized he was truly asleep, not faking like earlier. Soon and against your better judgment, you were dozing off in his arms tossing a leg over his so your limbs tangled together.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was how warm and comfortable you felt with Helmut Zemo, and how completely ludicrous such a thought was.

It wasn’t long before the door opening woke you, still secure in Zemo’s arms. You tried to move, sit up so Sam and Bucky wouldn’t see this little arrangement. You failed. Bucky came in first, stopping in his tracks as he saw the scene on the couch.

“What are you doing? Keep walk- what?” Sam ran right into Bucky’s back then froze.

Their eyes were wide as they stared. Zemo shifted awake beneath you, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. Bucky’s metal fist clenched, and Sam, ever the peacemaker grabbed his arm and opted for a more amicable approach.

“One of you better start talking.”

#tfatws spoilers #tfatws #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #zemo fic #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #spoilers #soft zemo #self insert fic #zemo x you #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo x you #zemo x reader fic #daniel brühl

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hrwinter · 3 years

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the emergency room fic snippet took me out hgjgjghfh

Kara's not sure if it's the recently waking up from anesthesia or if she really is witnessing the most gorgeous creature to ever grace this planet seated, cross-legged in the outpatient waiting room.

"Hi!" she finds herself sitting right next to the woman and practically shouting directly into her face.

Smooth, Danvers, she thinks. What can she say, she's always had game.

The woman stares back at Kara's suddenly very close proximity, doe eyed, irises round and the most tantalizing shade of sea foam green Kara's ever seen.

"Did you just—" Kara points inelegantly back at the door a nurse had just ushered her through, "have a surgery?"

The woman eyes her, a little wary, before replying.

"An endoscopy."

Kara gasps, reaching for the woman's hands (a little cold) and holding them in her overly warm ones. She rubs them together in an effort to bring heat into the stranger's fingers. The woman simply continues to stare, perplexed.

"Me too! Did yours go well? What are you in for?"

"You're very friendly," the woman states bluntly.

"Oh, sorry," Kara pulls her hands away. "I'm Kara."

"Lena," the woman says, still a little stiff but a small smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

Kara makes a conscientious effort to keep her hands in her lap like an overeager child as she waits for Lena to answer.

"And I have an ulcer, they think," Lena says, touching delicately at her stomach. "Too much coffee and working, not enough eating."

Kara winces. "Those are painful, right?"

Lena nods. "What about you?"

"I ate four mega sized bags of candy corn."

The face Lena pulls is one of total, abject disgust.

"Candy corn? Why?"

"It was a Halloween dare from my sister," Kara shrugs. "My stomach hasn't been the same since."

"I should think not."

Kara laughs at the woman's impeccable diction, like she could be one of those reading voice models. Or a librarian. A sexy librarian.

"Honestly right now I feel more woozy from the anesthesia."

"Me too," Lena agrees, staring down at her hands and flexing them open and closed. Such lovely hands. Big, Kara thinks.

She's not sure how long they both stare down at Lena's hands, Kara's elbow bent on Lena's armrest, holding her chin in her palm, before she thinks to add,

"Can you believe they warned us not to gamble? Or buy a car? Isn't that crazy?”

"Completely."

"Although," Kara adds with an unnoticed slur to her words, her voice sing song pitching up and down. “If I could buy any car right now, I'd totally buy one of those sports cars with the butterfly doors."

"Like a McLaren?"

"Sure."

"My friend Bruce has one. I think I've seen it in his garage."

"Damn, is he rich?"

“I’m rich too,” Lena holds out her hands as if she's dropping invisible dollar bills all over the waiting room floor.

“But I'm boring," she says with a slump of her shoulders. "I always use a town car. My driver's name is George."

"George," Kara echoes. "Why do guys always get to be so flashy? You should get yourself a sports car for, like, female empowerment and stuff."

"You're right," Lena agrees with an unsteady nod of her head. "It's not fair. Let’s go buy one.”

Kara swoons closer, heavily encroaching over the boundary between their two respective chairs. The space between them is nearly nonexistent. The anesthesia side effects are definitely feeling more present.

“I think you’re my soulmate," Kara says, entirely uncensored.

Lena locks eyes with her for one boundless moment before she shakes her head hard, like a puppy trying to shake out wet fur.

"No, you wouldn't like me if you knew me. I am so scary," Lena tells Kara with such sincere earnestness, head bowed towards her. "Like so scary. I’m a CEO."

"That's cool!" Kara cheers, and before she can stop herself she's holding Lena's hands again. "And there's no way you're scary. You’re so nice and soft," she rubs Lena's fingers.

Kara's not quite sure what happens next. Lena sort of pulls at her hands, an unspoken invitation, and Kara's already halfway out of her seat, and it just makes… sense for her to fully get into Lena's lap.

The waiting room chair is perfectly sized for the both of them. Lena's hands anchor Kara, squeezing at her backside. It's heaven.

"You smell good," Lena comments dreamily, leaning forward to inhale at Kara's neck. Then suddenly she jumps back, jostling Kara in her lap.

"Oh my god, I’m gay!"

Kara stares at her, hypnotized by the river of small blue veins at Lena's temple and forehead.

"Oh," she starts. "Did you just… realize?"

"Yes—" Lena half shouts, then, "I mean no, I just had to tell you. So, be careful."

Kara laughs, wrapping her arms around Lena's neck. She massages her fingers into Lena's shoulders, and Lena sighs, reluctantly relaxing by degrees. Kara smiles, goofy.

"With what? Your feelings? Anyways, I’m bi."

"Oh." Lena mirrors Kara's words. "Are you single?"

"Give me your number," Kara replies in lieu of an answer.

They both scramble for their phones, Kara reaching into her back pocket and Lena fishing into an expensive looking hand bag. Kara sits backs on Lena's thighs and proceeds to ignore several texts from her sister. And what should be a simple swap of phone numbers becomes an impromptu photo shoot with lots of giggling and vaguely inappropriate touching.

"What is going on here?"

Kara pivots in Lena's lap, recognizing the voice of her sister coming from the open doorway.

"Alex?"

Lena's head has snapped to the door, too, eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" she says with a squeeze of Kara's hips.

Alex's eyebrow raises, challenging.

"Who are you?"

Kara might actually hear Lena growl then.

"Lena?" another voice joins them.

Alex swivels to look at a woman just over her shoulder, tall and stately with legs for days. She has curly brown hair and soft, bedroom eyes.

"Who are you?" Kara finds her own voice grumbling.

"Sam!" Lena glows.

Who is Sam?!

Sam's eyes rove over the pair of them, and she raises a hand to her mouth to cover a smile. Kara reluctantly extricates herself from Lena's lap, standing but keeping hold of her hand.

"Um, Kar," Alex says, eyebrows threading closer and closer together by the second. "We have to go, so maybe let go of the stranger's hand."

"She's not a stranger, this is Lena!" Kara announces. "And I want her to come with us."

Sam snorts.

"What? No, Kara, we're going home," Alex takes a step into the room, and Lena squeezes Kara's hand possessively. "You need to get some sleep and recover."

"You, too, Lena," Sam intones, still lingering in the doorway.

"No!" Lena practically shouts, standing too. "I feel fine. We’re going to buy a car, actually."

Alex's jaw drops open.

"No, honey," Sam steps toward the pair of them then.

"Honey?" Kara asks, back bowing.

"Down girl," Sam quips in her direction. "We’re just friends."

"No, I’m your boss," Lena snaps at Sam, pointing, but it's as threatening as a five year old making demands about bathtime. "I tell you what to do."

Kara giggles.

"See, I’m mean," Lena gloats to Kara.

"No."

"Oh my god," Alex pinches the bridge of her nose. "This is a fucking mess, we're leaving. Now."

Kara stands taller at the warning nature of Alex's tone, and what follows is an absolute spectacle. It involves Alex chasing Kara around the room, Sam laughing loudly, and Lena threatening her and the entire hospital staff. It ends with Alex rough housing Kara inside of her Tahoe with threats of 'you owe me for life' and 'I can't fucking believe you." But Kara doesn't hear any of it, asleep by the time Alex gets into the driver's seat.

---

The next day, Kara wakes up late. There's a gloomy dark space where her memory of the day before should be, but she can't worry about that now. Instead, she groggily makes her way outside of her room, in search of the delicious coffee smell emanating from the kitchen. Alex stands there at her island, a sentinel, as if she's been up all night and waiting for this moment.

"How are we feeling today?" she asks neutrally.

"Terrible," Kara pours herself a cup of coffee.

"So…" her sister trails off, drumming her fingers, and Kara gets the distinct impression she's not going to like what comes out of her mouth next.

"Remember when you mounted Lena Luthor in the waiting room?"

Kara gapes at her.

"What? No, I didn’t. And who?"

"Lena Luthor," her sister repeats. "You were full on in her lap."

"You're lying," Kara splays herself over the couch. "I don't—remember anything. And Lena Luthor? The tech mogul?"

Alex ignores her.

"I had to take away your phone, and then you threw up in the shower. You don't remember that?"

"I was under anesthesia. I can't be held accountable for my actions," Kara shoves a pillow over her face, hoping it will block out the sound of her sister's voice.

"You're telling me you don't remember this woman?"

There's a slap of paper on her coffee table. Kara moves the pillow away, cracking open one eye to gaze down at the cover of a Popular Mechanics magazine. It's graced by a woman with gorgeous black hair with eyes an endless emerald green. She looks familiar, but Kara's not going to let her sister pull her chain today.

"Stop messing with me, Alex, it's not funny."

Alex glares back at her. "You really don't remember."

Kara grumbles and places the pillow back over her face.

"Check your texts," Alex lobs Kara's phone, and it hits her square in the stomach.

"Ow!" she shouts, chucking the pillow at Alex who dodges it easily. She sips at her coffee smugly.

Kara unlocks her phone, eyebrows furrowing, and reads her last text.

"OH MY GOD!"

"When we came back to your apartment," Alex continues, enjoying herself too much. "You kept trying to make out with your fern plant. You kept calling it Lena."

"STOP!"

"You tried to eat a frozen pizza."

"SHUT UP!"

#supercorp #hr’s askhole #supergirl #Lena Luthor #Kara Danvers #ficlet #fanfic #loosely based on an experience I had with a fellow gay man in the post op waiting room

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thinkingoutlouddblog · 3 years

Text

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

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negasonicimagines · 3 years

Text

Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.

#negasonic teenage warhead #ellie phimister #x-men #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #x-men imagine #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #ellie phimister x reader #x-men x reader #wlw x reader #sapphic x reader #wlw imagine #sapphic imagine #lesbian x reader #lesbian imagine #songfic

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Text

MALEC WEEK - POWER COUPLE

Alec ran, no – sprinted – through the narrow alley.

Please be okay, he prayed to himself. Please be okay.

He slashed every demon in sight, arrows flying of their volition. Alec has fought before – but never like this.

He had never fought with no regard for the consequences. He had no fear and was absolutely terrified at the same time.

His feet came to a sudden halt. Jace was standing in the alley.

“What am I afraid of?” Alec demanded.

“What?” the blonde man blinked.

“What am I afraid of?” Alec asked again, this time his voice steady.

Jace’s eyes frowned in concentration and then he looked at Alec. “Losing Magnus. You’re always worried about-”

Alec drove his seraph blade through the other man’s black t-shirt and liquid poured out like a disgusting ichor fountain.

“Sure,” Alec told the shapeshifter. “But Jace would have gone with spiders first.”

He continued to run down the path – destroying three more shapeshifters. Izzy. Maia.

One dumb demon had even taken the shape of his father who was long dead. Demons didn’t care much for research he supposed.

Shapeshifters never really appeared in hoards. But someone had messed up. Some warlock had dabbled with powers he couldn’t comprehend. Silas.

And now New York was overrun with shapeshifting demons.

They had to destroy every single one or the consequences would be severe. Jace had split them up into teams to take care of the problem.

Alec had been gearing up to assist Clary when he had gotten the message.

Please be okay, he prayed again as he ran faster. Please be okay.

He took care of another one – Julian – when he ran into a face was that familiar than most.

This face he knew.

This face he would never forget.

This face he could find among a hundred demons.

Alec wanted to leap forward and embrace the man. But Magnus was more cautious.

“What’s our wifi password?”

“Magnus, it’s me-”

“What’s our wifi password?” Magnus snapped.

“We don’t have one,” Alec rolled his eyes. “We steal the neighbor’s because he once called your fedora tacky.”

Magnus leaped now and put his arms around Alec.

“The kids,” he breathed into his neck.

“We’ll find them,” Alec promised, pulling back. “We’re gonna find them.”

“I tracked them here,” Magnus showed Rafael’s tiny shoe.

“Me too,” Alec showed Max’s little truck.

“So, they must be her-”

They heard someone running towards them and turned around immediately. Alec’s bow ready and Magnus’s hands glowing.

“Jeez, it’s me!” Izzy put up her hands.

“Prove it,” Magnus said. They are not going to take chances today.

“Alec, your brown sweater didn’t get lost in the laundry,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Magnus portalled it to a dumpster. Or hell. Either way, good riddance.”

“You did what?” Alec whirled on Magnus.

“Not the time!” Magnus hissed at them and then glared at Isabelle. “You could have just said the name of his childhood crush.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you want to know about that,” Isabelle giggled.”

“Wait. What do you mean?” Magnus asked. “Who is-”

“Not the time!” Alec hissed. “Izzy, go east. Magnus and I will follow the tracker.”

Izzy gave a single nod and vanished.

Before Magnus could discover about Alec’s childhood crush and probably have an aneurism, a sound pierced through the air.

A sound of laughter. An annoying, annoying laughter. Max had the most awful taste in dolls. But he was good at naming them though.

“Miss Ducklington!” they both said and ran towards the sound.

They reached the end of the alley when they saw them. An audible breath of relief left Magnus and Alec literally felt his stomach unclench.

Max and Rafe were on the floor sitting next to each other. There were surrounded by a bunch of demons. But they didn’t seem to be afraid.

Max was curiously looking at each one talking to them about his toys. Rafe had a protective arm around his brother, but otherwise looked bored.

They know. They know their daddy and bapa would come for them.

“I’m going to burn him to the ground,” Magnus muttered under his breath.

Alec held him back. “No.”

“I know he is a warlock,” Magnus said in frustration. “But he hurt innocent people. He hurt kids. He tried to hurt our chil-”

“We need him alive,” Alec explained patiently. “We need to question why he raised the shapeshifters. We must find out if there is someone behind this.”

Magnus gave him a begrudging nod. “But secure the kids first.”

Alec gave a firm nod. There was no doubt about that.

“Silas!” Magnus yelled.

The kids both stood up at the sound and the dozen demons hissed. Max blew a raspberry at one of them.

“Let the kids go,” Alec commanded.

“No,” the warlock shook his head, his scaled skin glistening in darkness. “I want the elder scrolls first.”

“What is it with our people and ancient books!” Magnus put his hands up in the air. “Just google stuff like everyone else.”

“I know you have it, Magnus,” Silas hissed. “Give me the sacred texts. I need it.”

“For what?” Alec asked carefully.

“None of your business,” the warlock snapped.

“Alright,” Magnus said. “Give us the kids and I’ll think about it.”

“You give me the scrolls fir-”

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Magnus voice cut through, sharper than any blade the iron sisters could make. “Give me my children.”

The shapeshifters moved closer in a circle, surrounding the kids.

Max’s blue eyes turned wider, but they seemed more curious than scared. Rafe’s hand still gripped his brother – his hand firm and sure.

They know. They know we will protect them.

Alec stepped forward.

“You won’t hurt me, shadowhunter,” the warlock laughed. “You need me for your interrogation.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass before taking you into custody,” Alec pointed out. “Let the kids go, Silas.”

“I don’t think so,” the warlock grinned.

Alec looked at Magnus. He felt it before he saw it.

He could feel Magnus’ magic around him – everywhere. It was desperate to break free.

“I won’t ask again,” Alec said.

Silas moved closer towards Rafael and Alec nodded.

It felt like being crashed by a wave.

Even for Alec, who had only ever found Magnus’ magic to be warm and welcoming.

Silas was on the floor, squirming and panting. The shapeshifters screeched in pain. Some even got obliterated on spot.

Not for the first time, Alec was thankful for never getting on Magnus’ bad side.

He bolted towards the kids. Magnus’ magic was surrounding them like a hurricane, a blue hurricane of fire and water and wind. He grabbed one in each arm. Max only yelled ‘wheeeee’ in glee.

“Magnus!” he yelled.

His warlock opened a portal with one arm and Alec moved closer.

“Jace!” he yelled this time.

A blonde man stared at him through the portal.

“It’s me!” he said, but Alec knew already. It was his Jace. “You think Magnus’ bread pudding is disgusting.”

“I heard that!” Magnus yelled amidst all the chaos.

“Grab the kids!” Alec yelled.

“Do you need backup?” Jace asked, as the kids ran towards him.

But the portal already closed.

“How,” the Silas choked on Magnus’ magic. “How did you-”

“Never underestimate my husband,” Alec pointed out proudly.

“Or mine!” Magnus chimed in, taking control over his magic.

On cue, Alec left four arrows fly killing off three different shapeshifters.

There were only a couple standing. And Silas of course.

“Just come with us,” Alec sighed.

“Yes, we have a dinner reservation at seven, you selfish jerk!” Magnus called, taking care of another shapeshifter.

“Never,” the warlock tried to get on his feet but was pushed to the floor by Magnus’ magic again. “I will never comply. I will never surrender. Not to you, shadowhunter.”

“How about me?” Magnus batted his eyes.

“Nephilim bootlicker,” the warlock spat. “I hope you die before him. I hope whatever demon gave you life will be the one to take it away. Or I will do it myse-”

Alec fingers curled around the man’s red hair and pulled him up. Silas left out a sharp hiss of pain.

It hurt.

Good.

“Threaten my husband again and I will rip off your arm,” Alec whispered a promise. “And beat you to death with it.”

“Darling, you are ruining my appetite,” Magnus chided. “Besides, my father has much more impo-”

Magnus groaned and his magic slipped.

He is draining, the thought occurred to Alec. His magic is draining.

Warlocks, many Nephilim didn’t realize or bothered to learn, did not have an infinite source of power. They had to rest. Rehabilitate. Renew.

And Magnus had used a gigantic amount of power tonight.

The tracking. The portals. The fighting.

And whatever crazy magic blizzard storm thing he had unleased earlier. He probably didn’t have to go this hard. But he had anyway.

But it wasn’t just a show of magic. It was a message.

The entire alley was surrounded in demon ichor and filth.

It was a message to anyone who tried to hurt his family.

There was one shapeshifter still left standing – right in front of Magnus, who was kneeling on the floor.

Silas laughed. It was an ugly, ugly sound.

“You’re all out of tricks, Bane,” he crowed and then said something in a demonic language to the shapeshifter. “Kill him!”

Alec could have pulled out his bow and shot the demon – and Silas. Two for one.

But he didn’t.

This was a show of power.

This was a message.

Alec threw a seraph blade towards the demon and Magnus, who was kneeling gripped the hilt without looking.

“You can’t use a seraph blade,” the warlock sneered. “You’re just a warlock.”

“I’m not just anything,” Magnus stood up and the seraph blade light up in red, the color of blood.

The color of hell.

“I’m a Lightwood-Bane,” Magnus grinned and drove the seraph blade through the last shape shifter.

The warlock’s mouth opened in awe – and fear. And then disgust.

“You abomination!” he yelled. “You are a disgrace to all warl-”

Alec kneed him right in the face and Silas passed out. “He talks too much.”

“A side effect of immortality,” Magnus shrugged.

Alec looked around them.

It was a disaster alright. But it was worth it.

Because the message was clear.

You don’t mess with the Lightwood-Banes.

#I do like a good fight scene kjdhsfjlsd #malec week #malec #dont mess with the lightwood banes #dani writes stuff

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bakusdumptruck · 3 years

Text

Bakusquad Crack Post

Sup bitches 🤩how’s your day been? hope its been good! Anywayyy i was listening to a “Rolling joints with Sero Hanta” playlist and this popped up in my mind sooo here’s a little Bakusquad scenario 😏

Pairing: aged up Bakusquad x GN Y/n

Warnings: Use of marijuana, swearing, injuries

Summary: A smoke session with the babes turned into a chaotic mess

Ights sluts lets get into it 😈

Sero Hanta is the stoner of the group. Period.

He taught everyone how to roll up just incase he was too high to function and wanted to smoke more

One night he texted the gc asking if everyone wanted to have a smoke sesh before they had to study for exams

You all agreed and went over to his dorm together

All except Bakugou.

He called all of you “idiots” and “dumbasses” for getting faded before studying, but all Sero had to say for him to come was

“Ight bakubro, if you can’t handle it you could’ve said that instead of making excuses 🤷🏻‍♂️”

Bakugou showed up within 5 minutes.

Once everyone was together, tape boy had everything set up

There were 4 joints lined up, hella snacks, drinks, video games, and movies

He even had the LED a n d Galaxy lights on

Lordy it was gonna be a long ass night

NOW ON TO THE FIRST ROTATION 🤩

You know how I said Sero is the stoner? yup uhuh he got the MF GAS.

The rotation was Bakugou, Kiri, You, Mina, Denki, then Sero

You all have a high tolerance so after you saw Bakugou coughing up a fucking lung, yall knew you were in trouble

Everyone coughed... except Sero. He just busted a lung laughing💀

So the joint is finished and you’re all feeling fuzzy

yes you’re high, BUT its not enough to get you guys staring at the wall thinking about space and aliens

Just high enough where time is slowed down and your body feels light

Denki randomly shouted to play video games and everyone agreed

Guess what you’re playing 👀

Ju-on. The fucking grudge game.

Why did Denki choose this game? oh he just wanted to see if it’d be a scarier experience if you’re all faded

It was 😃

Kiri volunteered to play the first stage to show off his Manliness 😤

So there he goes walking into the abandoned building

yall know how you can use another wii remote to trigger jumpscares?

yeahhhh Kiri didn’t know about it... and Bakugou was in charge of that

Everyone was chillin, lowkey feeling at edge to prepare themselves for anything about to pop up

Here comes the scene where he opens the door and scary bitch is on the other side waiting to grab him

K: “Uhhhh this doesn’t feel right... am I supposed to go this way?

B: “No shit dumbass, its telling you go that way isn’t it? What are you scared or something 😏 I thought you were too manly for this game”

K: “I-I’m not scared... just making s-sure.”

M: “Hehe you’re stuttering kiri”

K: “...I’m just cold”

Right before he grabbed the door handle (I kinda forgot how the game went oops 😅) bakubitch tiggered a jumpscare

K: “Okay here I g- what the fuck 😃”

It didn’t work.

K: “Oh that wasn’t too bad! The games gonna have to try harder if it wants to scare m- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”

Scary bitch popped up outta no where and grabbed him

S: “DUDE FUCKING RUN AWAY”

Y/N: “KIRI THE BITCH IS RIGHT THERE WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING”

K: “FUCK- CAN’T YOU SEE IM TRYING”

B: “BITCH SHAKE THE CONTROLLER. YOU HAVE TO SHAKE THE CONTROLLER”

K: “AHSJHS WHY ISN’T SHE LETTING GO”

D: “I-IT”S TELLING YOU HOW TO SHAKE IT. GO LEFT, NO NOW RI-”

Kiri accidentally punched Denki in the face 🙃

All: “...whAT THE FUCK AHAHAHSHAH”

yeahhh so thats how the game ended 😭

Denki was laying on the floor staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell just happened and why everyone was laughing at him

D: *in his head* “I just got punched square in the face 😃 and they’re laughing at me 😃 This is fine. 😃”

K: “B-bro are you okay 😭 iM sorry AHAsh its- its just everyone was screaming and AhahhAHAHA IM SORRY 😭”

Sero let him start the second rotation as an apology for laughing instead of checking up on him

Honestly yall don’t know if you can go on to the third

Everyone was hella faded at this point

Eyes red, dry mouths, and hungry stomachs

Mina ordered TacoBell knowing everyone was gonna want to eat more than the snacks and you all sat on the floor munching away

You all started talking about stupid stuff:

S: “So like... what happens when we get scared half to death twice”

M: “👁👄👁”

B: “👁👄👁”

D: “👁👄👁”

Y: “👁👄👁”

K: “👁👄👁”

D: “I’ve been scared half to death multiple times... im fucking immortal.”

After a few more high conversations Mina suggests to make tiktoks

Have yall seen the tiktok where Mina and Y/n do the trend where they wink at the camera and all the boys are watching and Baku comes up to kiss Y/n?

yup you do that BUT

When Bakugou grabbed your cheeks and went in for the kiss he missed and fell flat on his face 💀

*Cue everyone falling on their asses crying*

Best believe the tiktok went viral 🤩

After the third joint yall decided that the room was too suffocating and went out for a walk

It didn’t seem like a bad idea... until you all got outside

Denki and Sero were singing “Milkshake” at the top of their lungs while wall twerking on the trees

Kiri and Bakugo were racing to see who’s the fastest but kept tripping over their own feet

You and Mina were recording everything those dumbasses were doing.

All of a sudden yall found yourselves in a clear area a bit far from the dorms

Bakugou laid in the grass staring up at the stars and you all joined getting into a little cuddle pile

At this point the effects of the joints hit at once and everyone was out of their heads

They felt like their spirits were floating out of their bodies

*BOOM*

M: “...did you guys hear that”

All: “yes”

M: “should we go check it out?”

B: “Hell yeah. What if it’s a villain? I bet I can beat their ass in less than a second”

Y: “First, thats literally impossible. Second, We can barely fucking move. How do you expect us to fight a villain 🙂”

A Nomu popped up in front of you

D: “Uhhh aye Bakubro... you think you can beat his ass in less than a second?”

B: “FUCK YEAH WATCH THIS YOU FUCKING EXTRAS.”

...

HE FUCKING MISSED Nomu: “ERRHSJAKFjhuSGHD”

Y/n: *shoots up on their feet then falls over immediately* “DAMNIT I CAN’T STAND UP STRAIGHT WHAT DO WE DO”

Everyone started to use their quirks

Sero shot tape to the nomu

Denki sent 1 millions volts

Mina just kept shooting acid out

Kiri hardened up and threw punches like his life depend on it

Bakugou was screaming “die” and kept exploding shit

and You were also using your quirk to the best of your ability

K: *heavy breathing* “guys... i think we got it”

B: “Ofc we did... we literally went bat shit crazy on it”

When the smoke cleared it was still standing in front of you guys... unharmed...

AND IT MULTIPLIED

K: “😶RUN AWAY”

you all started running back to the dorms

well, tried running back to the dorms

Everyone was bumping into each other and tripping

S: “WE’RE GONNA DIE”

Y/n: “WE’RE NOT GONNA DIE JUST KEEP RUNNING... FUCK THEY’RE GETTING CLOSER

Denki ended up facetiming Aizawa in hopes that he would help

A: “Denki, its 4am what do you w-”

D: “SENSEIIII NOMUS ARE CHASING US. SEND HELP.

A: “Why are you guys out of the dorms? aND WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME USE YOUR QUIRKS. YOU HAVE YOUR HEROS LICENSE FOR A REASoN”

D: “WE TRIED. WE MISSED AND IT MULTIPLIED. WE’RE ALSO HIGH AS FUCK BUT WE’RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT”

A: “... did you say you were high?”

D: “IRRELEVANT. SENSEI WE’RE GONNA DI-”

The nomu caught him.

A: “Denki... Kaminari... hello?... *sigh* you guys are gonna be the death of me.”

You all ended up getting knocked out by the nomus and taken to the League of Villains hideout

B: “...Never thought i’d be here again”

S: “ I still have the last joint in my pocket... ya’ll wanna smoke?”

Dabi and Shiggy stared at him like he was crazy but agreed anyway 🤪who’s gonna pass up a free joint? not them.

So everyone got high again and chilled until the Pro Hero’s saved your asses :)

Oh and also don’t think Aizawa let you guys off the hook.

You all got house arrest and extra BRUTAL lessons for the next 2 months

The End :)

Yeahhh idk what this was but I hope you all enjoyed it!! I really wanted to write something angsty but as I was writing I couldn’t take myself seriously and ended up making jokes 😭

#BNHA Headcanons #bnha x y/n #bhna x reader #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #denki x reader #sero x reader #mina x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha #bakusqaud #bakusquad x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 3 years

Text

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

#ultimate note #whomst #wu xie #dmbj #the lost tomb #pingxie #iron triangle

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kookiesjoonies · 4 years

Text

come home | myg.

another collab w/ my platonic soulmate, @ppersonna, abt bad hookups and how members of bts fix it n make you feel good. it took me awhile to get my part up, so i want to thank lindy for the millionth time for being so patient. i hope u all enjoy. read her part of this collab w/ jin here!

main pairing: min yoongi x reader (exes to lovers)

fic type: one shot

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut

warnings: language, mentions of smoking/nicotine, mentions of penetrative sex, dry humping, light dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, angst if you squint?, tiny amount of fluff (if i forgot any warnings, i apologize! i have been working on this over the course of a week or longer. if i missed anything major, let me know pls! xo)

summary: you just want to feel good. and seeing as how no one has been successful in making that happen for you, you go to the one person who never fails to get you off. who just so happens to be your ex boyfriend.

The last person in the world that Yoongi expected to be knocking on his door at eight o’ clock at night was you. You’d been broken up for over a year now, and sure, the two of you were on good terms. Hell, you even considered yourselves friends, but rarely ever did the two of you hang out or speak more than a few times a week through text messages.

So naturally, his first thought was that something was wrong. He was standing in the doorway, staring straight ahead at you, trying to read your face for any indication as to why you’d shown up at his house unannounced. Your expression was stoic, though, almost bored. Your hair was shorter though, he’d noticed. Had you gained weight? He couldn’t have been sure, but your thighs definitely appeared to be thicker, and your bra fuller than he remembered.

You caught him eyeing your cleavage and you rolled your eyes. Same old Yoongi, same old habits.

“Are you going to invite me inside?” You asked, arms crossed over your chest and effectively pushing your breasts up.

Yoongi was sure he would be drooling any moment now, and he hadn’t even heard a word you’d said. Fuck, he’d missed staring at you like this.

“Yoongi,” you reached a hand forward, pressing a freshly manicured finger underneath his chin and pointing it up toward your face, “my eyes are up here.”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, “And?”

You tilted your head to the side, eyebrows pushing together in annoyance, “Would you just move so I can come inside?”

He obliged, stepping away from the door frame and gesturing you, albeit dramatically, inside.

His house hadn’t changed much, but it definitely wasn’t as well kept as it was when you lived with him. The coffee table was cluttered with assorted take out boxes and half empty water bottles, and you never understood why he didn’t drink the entire bottle of water. It annoyed the piss out of you, and you were still convinced that was the only reason he did it.

Blankets and coats littered the sofa, throw pillows pushed off of the couch and onto the floor. You always hated when he did that. He claimed the pillows made the couch uncomfortable and hard to sit on, and you’d called him insane, telling him that the entire purpose of the pillows were to make it comfortable.

You were curious to see what his bedroom looked like. Well, you were mostly curious, and a tad bit frightened at the thought. Yoongi wasn’t a messy person, but he didn’t mind clutter. You, on the other hand, despised it.

Yoongi took note of the way your eyes danced around the room, taking everything surrounding you in.

“Yeah, it’s messy, I know.” His tone of voice shifted to one of nervousness. He was suddenly very aware that you we’re here, in the house the two of you used to share, for the first time in what felt like forever.

You sensed his awkwardness and turned your attention from the living room and into him, placing a hand gently around his bicep. He instantly relaxed under your touch. You always did know exactly what he needed and when he needed it. He still didn’t know how the fuck you managed to do that.

“I don’t care if it’s messy, Yoongi. I don’t live here anymore.”

“No, you don’t. Which brings me to ask, why are you here?”

“Actually,” you began, leaning against the back of his sofa as you slowly raked your eyes up and down his small frame, “I was wondering if you wanted to fuck.”

Your question clearly caught him off guard, his face immediately contorting into one of utter confusion. Eyes slightly widened, mouth agape.

“Hold on,” he shook his head, a poor attempt at collecting his thoughts as he tried to make sense of what you’d just proposed, “are you high?”

Was he serious? You rolled your eyes at him yet again, convinced they were going to get stuck in the back of your head.

“No, Yoongi. I am not high. I’m just horny, and want to fuck. Simple as that.”

He carded his long fingers through his hair, eyes focusing on yours and fully taking in your serious expression.

“You couldn’t find someone on tinder? I mean, not that I’m not flattered that you came all the way here, but. I’m just a bit confused.”

“I could’ve, yeah,” you nodded, “and I have, in the past. But I’m sick of bad hookups, I have to fake it half the time anyway. Nobody knows my body like you do. I just want to feel good, but if you don’t want to, or if it’s too weird then I can leave. No hard feelings.”

Yoongi took a minute to weigh out the pros and cons in his head. On one hand, he’d kill to be inside of you again. He’d had hookups of his own, sure, but none of them even came close to what you felt like. But on the other hand, you’d broken up for a reason. And this could complicate things.

Who was he to deny you, though? He never could, not when you were together, and he wasn’t about to start now. If all you wanted was to feel good, then goddammit, he was going to make sure that you did.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

Your eyes grew wider than quarters, and you stared at him in disbelief, “Really?”

“Were you expecting me to say no?”

“I don’t..” you paused, “I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Well,” he took a single step forward, hands easily falling down and onto your hips, “I did.”

All it took was the feeling of his hands on you to make your breath catch in your throat. It’d been over a year since he’d last touched you, his hands felt like they were burning your skin through your shirt. You stared up at him, eyes fixated on his as his mouth slowly crept down and onto yours.

It felt like sparks of electricity were coursing through your veins. Your body instantly reacted, legs jumping up and off of the ground to wrap around his waist. He was quick to catch you, hands cupping your ass to hold you up and pressed against him. His lips moved against yours easily, his tongue gliding into your mouth and wrapping around yours perfectly. Kissing you was muscle memory, he knew every crevice of your mouth, which moves of his tongue would have you wrecked.

He took advantage of that, lapping and twirling his tongue against yours in a way that had you moaning into the kiss. The vibrations going straight from his lips and down to his dick, and you could feel him hardening against your thigh. Your hands found their way into the dark hair at the nape of his neck and you twirled it around your fingers, all the while giving a quick swivel of your hips that had Yoongi groaning into your mouth.

He carried you away from the couch and down the hallway into his master bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot once inside. He had your back pressed up against it instantaneously, grinding his hips up and into yours at a steady pace. You were holding onto his neck for dear life, letting out a whine as he hit your clit perfectly.

“Y-yoongi! Right there, oh my God, do that again.” You pleaded, and he happily obliged by thrusting his hips in the exact same way, causing you to cry out and bite down on your lower lip. If he kept this shit up, you’d be cumming in your pants.

His lips were attached to your neck now, attacking the skin there with sloppy kisses and occasional suction. You knew there would be bruises, but you couldn’t be bothered to give a single fuck. Your body was elated, you felt like you were floating. And all of it was from a fucking make out session and dry humping. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were going to feel once he was finally inside of you. The thought of it alone had you soaking wet, and you could feel how damp your panties had gotten, sure that your jeans were soon to follow suit.

His hips never slowed, in fact, they only sped up. You were bouncing against him now, attempting to gather even more friction than what he was giving you. His fingers curled and squeezed your ass, holding you still as he ruthlessly humped against your core.

“Gonna cum for me, huh? Right here? With your clothes still on?” He was nipping at your jawline now, and the sounds you were making sounded like you were trying to speak, but nothing you were saying was coherent.

“What was that?” he rolled his hips hard against your aching cunt, and you immediately saw black, “Words, baby. Or I’ll stop right now.”

You panicked, trying to muster up any sort of response that you could manage, even if you did sound completely fucking pitiful.

“Yes! Oh my god, yes.” You mewled, and one final jolt of his hips had you coming undone.

Your thighs contracted around him, shaking and attempting to pull him closer and keep him trapped between your legs. Your hands were tugging on his hair, burning his scalp and causing him to groan at the sensation. Cries of his name and a slew of fucked out curses made their way past your lips as you came, head knocking back against the wooden door.

Yoongi had pulled away from your neck so that he could watch you, his eyes darkening with want as he witnessed you lose yourself from just grinding alone. He thought you’d never looked sexier than you did right now. And all he could think about was how badly he wanted to clean up the mess he’d just made in between your legs.

“Let me eat you out.” His voice was rough, raspy, and hot. How could you say no to that?

You hadn’t even completely come down from your high yet, stars still circling above your head as you blinked rapidly in an attempt to get them to go away. But still, you nodded.

He was quick to drop to his knees after setting your feet and shaky legs back down onto the ground. Your fingers threaded through his hair, hips pushing forward and toward his mouth. You’d never wanted— no, needed his tongue against you so badly before. But you couldn’t help the breathy laugh that pushed out of your throat.

“What’s so funny?” Yoongi prompted, mumbling against the skin of your lower abdomen as he pressed wet kisses there.

You lightly twirled his hair around your index finger, a small sigh making its way through your lips as you felt him begin to undo the button a zipper on your pants.

The whole situation was fucking hilarious to you. You ever imagined you’d be here again, with Yoongi in general, let alone with his head between your legs. But that was too heavy of a conversation to have at the moment. You knew that if you said such things, he’d want to have a deep, touchy feely talk and all you were interested right now was him making you cum for the second time today.

So, you decided to play your laughter off, sounding as nonchalant as possible.

“Just find it funny that our bed is two feet away from us, yet you’re still going to eat me out while you’re on the floor.”

Yoongi had taken to ridding you of those god forsaken jeans, kissing from your knee up to the tops of your thigh. His actions coming to a still in the middle of your sentence.

“Our? bed?” He cocked an eyebrow, deep irises flickering up to look straight at you.

“Just habit, I guess.” you shrugged it off, but internally, you were kicking your own ass for making such a slip up, “Are you going to go down on me, or not?”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes. This was so fucking like you, brushing off your true emotions and covering them up with something sexual. Had you forgotten he knew you better than anyone else in the world?

Still, you’d come to him for a reason. You wanted to feel good. He was determined to follow through with your wishes, but made a mental note to get you to tell him how you were feeling afterwards.

“You’re so fucking bossy.” He spat out the words, though they weren’t laced with any real venom. It was too playful, too Yoongi.

You were going to offer him a smart ass remark, a witty comeback on the very tip of your lips. However, the feel of his tongue dragging through your folds had you moaning instead.

His arms linked around the backs of your thighs to hold you in place, keeping your cunt pressed firmly against his face as he nudged your clit with his tongue. A small, barely there flick that had you whining in a high pitched fashion. Your eyes had screwed shut, hand tangled in his hair and pulling it from the root.

One of his hands moved from your legs so that he could hover his index finger over your entrance, circling around it and gathering up your wetness. He groaned at the feeling, at how absolutely fucking soaked you were for him. It was something he never, ever got tired of. And it was definitely something he’d grown to miss.

All at once, he was pulling your clit into his mouth. Teeth lightly grazing it before he took his time suckling on the bud, quick, exasperated whimpers coming out of your lips as he did so.

You offered him fucked out praises, telling him how good it felt, how badly you wanted more. His finger pushed into you, and your walls immediately squeezed around it. Once you’d loosened back up, he added his middle finger and slowly began to fuck into you.

Your mouth was left agape at the feeling, his tongue now swirling at a steady pace against your bundle of nerves. Your nails dug into his scalp, and you’d begun to shamelessly ride his face. He was loving every minute of it, every wanton noise that came out of your mouth.

“I—I need—,” you stuttered, unsure of exactly what it was that you needed from him, “God, Yoongi, please—”

Even when you didn’t know, he always seemed to. His long fingers curled inside of you, arching and pressing against that glorious spot that had you screaming out a line of curses.

He quickened the pace of his tongue up, the speed of it ruthless against your clit now. Your eyes were beginning to well up, and you were sure you’d never felt pleasure like this before. Not even from him. There was something about this time that made it feel like you were floating on cloud nine. And you never, ever wanted to come down. You wanted his head buried between your thighs for an eternity.

One more push of his fingers and lick of his tongue had you bucking your hips against his face, and you weren’t sure how he was managing to breathe. Your lower stomach was knotting, heat spreading from your core throughout your entire body as your orgasm washed over you. Both of your hands were in his hair now, gripping onto the soft strands of it with all of your might. You were squirming, trying to get closer to him, and away from him all at the same time.

Black dots were all that you could see, your head spinning and making you feel like you were floating off of the ground. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath and regain your composure.

You groaned at the empty feeling as you felt Yoongi pull his fingers out of you, glancing down at him just in time to watch him insert the digits into his mouth and swallow your release. Your eyes rolled back at the sight, a huff leaving your lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” You joked, and he rewarded you with a chuckle as he stood up and pressed his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth with ease.

You could taste yourself on him, and that alone had you aroused again and ready for orgasm number three. And hopefully four and five. You could feel yourself growing wet again, and took the opportunity to grab one of his hands and bring it down and onto your soaked pussy.

He groaned into the kiss, tongue moving with more fervor, more hunger.

You were pulling back, and he was chasing your lips with his. You giggled at his actions, your fingers toying with the fine strands of his hair.

Without giving it a second thought, he was lifting you off of the ground again and taking quick strides toward the bed.

It seemed like the two of you had spent the better part of the night fucking. But by your fifth orgasm, you were too fucked out, and way too sensitive to do it again. You could barely walk, your legs the equivalent of Jell-O. Yoongi insisted over and over that you just spent the night with him, offering to take the couch if that would make you more comfortable.

“I just spent the last two hours with your dick buried inside of me,” you pointed out, “I think we can share a bed.”

He laughed as he laid beside of you, still completely naked and on full display for you.

“Touché.”

“I need a cigarette, but I can’t even walk to get them out of my jeans.” You groaned as you stared at your pants lying in front of the door, and you could hear Yoongi sighing beside of you.

“What?” You cocked an eyebrow, rolling onto your side so that you could face him.

“You know how I feel about you smoking. I wish you’d quit that shit.”

“Well,” you started, “at least you don’t have to smell it on a daily basis anymore. You know, since I don’t live here.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, turning over on his side to match your position, “kind of miss it.”

Your eyes slightly widened, and you were left speechless. Because what were you supposed to say to that?

Yoongi sighed, giving you a quick roll of his eyes.

“Come on, Y/n. What are we doing?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You lied.

“You mean to tell me you don’t feel comfortable right now? Like we never stopped this in the first place? Never stopped.. us?” He studied your face as he waited for your answer, fingers instinctively reaching out to trail along the curve of your bare hip.

“Yoongi..” You sighed, unsure of what else to say. Because he was right. This felt normal. It felt right.

“Just come home.” His voice was sincere, his eyes soft and pleading as he looked at you.

Usually, this was the kind of big decision you’d have to think about, outweigh all of the pros and cons. But this time, you didn’t hesitate to respond. Because this was Yoongi, and he was home.

“Yeah,” you nodded, gently rubbing your thumb along the top of his cheek as you offered him a gentle smile, “okay.”

#yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #bts #bts smut #bangtan #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts suga #suga imagine #min yoongi imagine

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the-void-i-scream-into · 3 years

Text

White Tulips - Cut Chapter

Hey Everyone. I hope who ever reads this is happy and healthy. So I wrote this idea for my Han Seojun x Kang Sujin fanfic but it didn’t really fit the story at the time, even though I had set it up in the published story twice, so I cut it. But I still loved this idea so I wanted to share it here.

I would have shared it earlier but I was trying to get the Joseon Era AU started before that but man, have I been struggling with that story. Writing historic fanfic is HARD! Anyway I still wanted to leave this here. Hope you all like it.

Pairing: Kang Sujin x Han Seojun

Word Count: 1.7k

Rating: Slightly Mature... or maybe PG 15? I dunno. I am bad with ratings

For all of his flaws, Han Seojun had one thing going for him. He was unashamed. Unashamed of his slight lack of academic intelligence, unashamed of his troublemaker persona, and definitely unashamed of losing to Kang Sujin at everything imaginable.

“Ah-nee, how could you get so good at basketball?” He panted, pulling up his shirt to wipe his brow, not because he was sweaty, but because he wanted Sujin to stare at his abs.

“I was always good, Han Seojun.” Sujin said proudly, holding the basketball by her waist as she unabashedly eyed his abs. “I told you, I was just off my game that day.”

“You were distracted by my face.” Seojun smirked.

“Of course, I was. I had a massive crush on you.” She grinned, kissing him.

“Ooooh, chagi, you had a crush on meee.” Seojun teased like a school boy who had discovered her most embarrassing secret.

“We’re practically married.” Sujin pointed out dryly, the fact that they had been together for over a year now.

“Still.” Seojun grinned.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I finally did beat you.” Sujin countered.

Seojun didn’t tell her that he had let her win today. Her loved her competitiveness and the giddy way she grinned when she won. If Seojun could, he would let her win everything her heart desired. But this he would never tell her, mostly because she would kill him. And Seojun really wanted to live, especially now that he had someone else to live with.

“Technically, we’re at a draw. You only cancelled out your win from back then.” He stated. The two had started packing their things. Sujin dumped her water bottle in their gym bag.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m about to win this argument.” Sujin grinned an evil grin, leaning closer. She spoke in a sing-song voice, “I know your big secret.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Seojun smirked. He was an open book, there was nothing he ever hid from anyone. And even if he did, there was nothing he was ashamed of.

Sujin took out her phone and pressed play.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Really? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Say la la la la la la la la la la la

“Told you I would find out.” Sujin’s evil grin spread wide as Seojun’s smug smile wavered.

Oh no.

It turned out that here indeed was one thing that Han Seojun was ashamed of.

“Ya, Kang Sujin!” Seojun went for her phone but she bounced out of his way, skipping backward.

“What’s wrong, Seojun-ah? Don’t like this song?” She asked in mock innocence.

Oh God, the horror. The pain, the anguish! The embarrassment!

“Ya! Come here!” Seojun ran after her and she sprinted away from him, running around the court. “Stop playing that!”

“No way. This is my new favorite song.” Sujin shouted back breathlessly as she ran full speed. Seojun caught up with her and she squealed and laughed as he held her by the waist.

“Are you not going to stop?” He didn’t lunge for her phone. Instead opted to tickle her, making her squeal some more, laughing uncontrollably.

“I cave! I cave!” She said, her eyes tearing up from the laughing.

Seojun took her phone and turned off the song. Sujin was red from laughter and Seojun felt an ache to kiss her then and there. But he didn’t want to encourage her triggering the PTSD he had from that embarrassing incident in high school.

“Lim Jukyung is such a traitor. I can’t believe she told you.”

“I’m your girlfriend. Of course, she told me. Shouldn’t I know you were dancing around half naked in front of another woman?” Sujin wiped the tears from her eyes, still shaking from the aftershocks of laughing.

“Aish! That was so embarrassing. I never want to remember that happened.” Seojun admitted, going red as he thought back to when he had been dancing around in his house, wearing nothing but his underwear and had failed to notice that Lim Jukyung had been there with his sister the entire time.

“Waeeee? I find it funny.” And then she burst out laughing again. Han Seojun walked away in a huff. He couldn’t face the embarrassment any longer, especially not in front of Sujin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Sujin chased after him.

Han Seojun would have buried the incident again, along with his memory of that song but then there it was again.

That dreaded song.

They were having lunch with everyone; Jukyung, Suho, Taehoon, Suah and his squad with Chorong, when suddenly, he heard the tune faintly.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Seojun thought he was imagining it. But then Sujin took out her phone and the song played clearer. That damn woman had set it as her ring tone.

That dreaded song.

“Oops, getting a call. Be right back.” Sujin said with just enough pretend innocence that it passed off as sincere to others, but he knew. He knew.

Han Seojun glared at Jukyung accusingly and she made an apologetic face. Luckily, no one else seemed to pick up on Seojun’s discomfort. Suho did give him a pointed look but Suho knew that he did not have the privilege of making fun of Seojun the way Sujin did. And that wasn’t a matter of Seojun getting mad at him. It was a matter of Kang Sujin destroying anyone who would say one syllable against her boyfriend.

“Sujinnie,” Seojun pouted like a child that night as they made dinner, “I don’t like your ringtone.”

Her phone had been ringing all day. A little too frequently, Seojun had noticed. It was almost as if Sujin had scheduled all of her calls to today just to mess with him.

“Oh, should I change it?” She asked causally, “Okay, you pick something you like.”

Seojun grinned and padded over to the counter, setting her ringtone to one of his songs.

That night Seojun had gone to sleep thinking that chapter of his embarrassing event was over. He dreamed peacefully of being on stage and serenading Sujin with the songs he had written for her. But then his dream was interrupted with that jingle again.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Seojun woke up with a gasp. No, it wasn’t just his dream. The song was actually playing. Sujin stirred and shut off her alarm.

Her alarm that was set to play Okey Dokey.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo! Seojun screamed in his head, cursing the storm he imagined himself drowning in. He loved Kang Sujin. He could never deny her anything, even if it led to his own torment.

But why, why out of everything she had to choose this.

Sujin got up, and didn’t even notice Seojun stuff his head in his pillow as she went to the bathroom.

“Hyung, are you okay?” One of his bandmates asked upon seeing Seojun’s dark circles and dead expression.

“Huh? I’m okey, dokey.” He responded dreamily. The band member backed away in concern.

ii.

Ever since they had gotten close, Seojun had stopped challenging her. True, they would still tease and play the push-pull game but it wasn’t like it had been before. Before they had felt like equals. Now it felt like Sujin had all the power and oddly enough, she didn’t like that. She worried it might get too boring for Han Seojun. She worried it wasn’t good for him to coddle her so much. He needed to have just as much of a say in things as she did.

She had meant the song to just stir some new challenge between them. He would respond with embarrassment and demand that she gets rid of the song. He would finally set a line for her; a restriction and she would comply to and balance would be restored. No longer would she be the one dictating everything.

But it had the opposite effect. Sujin hadn’t realized how it was torturing him till she saw him jump when they passed by a store that had been coincidentally playing the song.

“It’s following me.” Seojun had hissed. Sujin became worried she had gone too far. She hadn’t realized how much the incident had affected him.

Fortunately, Sujin knew what to do.

Come home early tonight. Sujin’s text came.

“Is everything okay?” He asked the second he entered. Sujin never asked him to be home early, knowing his busy schedule. He was lucky that his other band mate had gotten ill, and practice had been cancelled.

“Yeah, gimme a minute!” Sujin called from their bedroom.

Seojun threw his jacket on the sofa and unbuttoned his sleeves, getting ready to make dinner. But then he froze.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

He groaned, “Aaaaah, chagiiii! Geuman-hae already.” He turned and then froze again, dropping his phone on the floor.

In the door frame of their bedroom stood Kang Sujin wearing leopard print camisole and a blue bathrobe, striking an exaggerated dancing pose. The camisole reached just below her thighs. The rest of her long, long, long legs were available for him to gawk at.

Seojun gulped. Good God.

You ready?

I'm ready

Yea, okey dokey yo

Sujin began dancing to the song just like he had, singing along as she moved through the hallway with the graceful movements of a more practiced dancer. It was funny but all too captivating at the same time.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

She came in and danced her way to the fridge, taking out a water bottle, and pouring it over her head.

Really? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Say la la la la la la la la la la la

She didn’t have the chance to continue as Seojun picked her up in his arms. She squealed in joy as he kissed her.

“Ah, Kang Sujin that’s the sexiest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He said, leaning her over as she laughed.

Seojun forgot all about the song as he bridal carried a squealing Sujin to their room. They both fell down on the bed, laughing. Sujin ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey, Sujinnie. Guess what underwear I’m wearing today.” Seojun grinned.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #true beauty soojin #true beauty fanfiction #kang sujin #kang soojin #Kang soojin and Han seojun #Kang Sujin Fanfiction #han seojun #han seojun fanfiction #seojun x sujin #seojun x soojin #park yoona #hwang inyeop #honestly Park Yoona and Hwang In Yeop should be in a drama as the leads

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nypmphetsbastard · 3 years

Text

Paradis Island ch 3

Parings: yelena x reader

—————————————

YOU PAID NO MIND to the constant buzzing coming from your back pocket as you made your way to your local library. Feelings weren't something you were really used to. Whenever you fell on the playground as a child or injured yourself in any way your parents had always told you to suck it up and stop crying. So you did. If you fell, if you got hurt, wether emotionally or physically it didn't matter— you didn't cry, wail out in pain or even tell anyone; bandaging up your open wounds and feelings before they could spill out fo the world to see became a constant routine. Ironically enough, in young adulthood you now knew nothing of how to express emotions or even pinpoint how you were feeling.

Was it jealously? Sadness? You didn't know. You didn't know.You didn't know.You didn't know. You didn't know. And it drove you crazy.

"Hey...are you okay?" You were pulled out of your trance as a warm hand landed on your shoulder, you raised your eyes up to the person and saw Hange standing in front of you with a look of worry written on their face.

"I-...i.." your mouth seemed to be in the place as your mind, scrambled and tangled together like cable wires.

"Hey, it's okay. Here, sit down, have some water." Hange said worriedly, handing you a water bottle from their bookbag. You took it gratefully and chugged down most of the water till you felt like your breath had finally caught up to you. Hange didn't ask any questions as they watched you chug down their water and opted to rubbing your back until you wiped your mouth and handed back the water to them.

"Thank you, Hange. I really needed that." You thanked

"Anytime." They smiled at you and began pulling out notebooks and pens from their bag, not looking at you. Biting your lips in nervousness, you tapped them on the shoulder.

"Aren't you gonna ask what's wrong?" You asked, genuine confusion on your face. It was nerve wracking to you, not having someone constantly breathing down your throat asking a bunch of questions and pressuring you into answer. The silent treatment to you was always a punishment growing up. And it only made it worse in adulthood.

"No. Unless you directly tell me you want to talk about something i don't feel like i should intrude." They explained, you blinked in surprise. "Would you like to talk abut anything?" They asked patiently. You shook your head, still mentally in shock at what a patient and understanding Hange is.

"Alright. How was college been for you so far? I was a complete mess when i first came but you seem to handling it well."

"Tch, you'd be surprised. Some teachers gave a first day assignment, others didn't, but it's nothing i can't handle. Oh and then..." You rambled some more as Hange listened intently and even told their own college stories.

And finally, after a long time of searching, you felt like you finally had a real friend. A real chance at creating something and becoming what your teenage self would've wanted you to be. It felt nice being heard, a rare privilege you never got back home yet something you desperately longed for and cringed onto the majority of your life. Having friends was a strange thing for someone as closed off as you but in that moment, you'd sell an arm and a leg for stay forever. To stay here listening to Hange as thy spoke of their young shenanigans and telling some old childhood stories knowing they were listening no interacting with you the entire time. To sty in a moment forever, why couldn't you? Truly a curse.

Only after almost 2 hours of talking did Hange finally drop the bomb of having to leave, soiling your perfect moment.

"Alright hun, i gotta go help Eren with some science thing but i will definitely text you later." They let go of their titan grip on you and walked away, waving you a goodbye and leaving at the back of the library, alone.

With. Sigh, you reached into your school bag and smiled softy at the book you pulled out. Thankfully in Pieck's rush to throw your school essentials in your bag, she snuck in the book you were eyeing the day before, 'Alice in Wonderland'. Another moment you were hoping to stay in forever. The crisp smell of a new book and the warm cozy feeling you got as you snuggled into the plush chair felt like heaven. Hange did not lie when they said they found the best spot in the library.

A smile creeped up on your lips as your eyes scanned the words on the pages, a warm feeling rising your chest and a sense of familiarity at Alice's situation. Just a regular girl stuck in a mundane boring life that'd been scheduled ahead of time for her with nobody to understand her curiosity and need to learn something knew. In a way, you understood her. Alice had achieved the life you wanted. To run away, to meet new people, go on adventure and find who the real Alice was. A journey in life you had yet to come across. Finding the real you, you wondered what it'd be.

"Hey." Flinching at the familiar voice, you craned your neck up to face the woman you had just caught making out with your roommate. "What's got you smiling like that over here?" Yelena asked, you dropped the smile on your face and put a placement piece on your book page before closing it and giving Yelena your full attention.

"Nothing." She quirked up an eyebrow at your one word response

"Damn, you sleep with one roommate and suddenly we're not friends." She teased, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking down at you. You rolled your eyes and looked back down at the cover of your book with the full intention to pack everything up and get out before you said something embarrassing.

"We were never friends" you mumbled, not thinking anything of it and not bothering to look up to see her expression. Well, it didn't seem like you ad to, especially when Yelena rested the palm of her hand on the side of the mini couch and bent down to your sitting height, looking directly into your eyes.

"Are you sure about that?" She questioned.

You breath caught in your throat at your closeness, so close you could smell the artificial lemon and lavender encompassing her clothing and the fresh mint in her breath. So close you see the splashes of brown in her dark eyes and non existent pores on her pale skin. For as short as you've known her, it never occurred to you how much of an effect she seemed to have over you until now.

"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate this." You pointed out blankly, a hint of jealousy seeing out through your words.

Yet she smirked. She fucking smirked.

"Aw, is my little kitten jealous?" Yelena teased cockily, raising one of your hands up to wipe away any imaginary loose hairs on your forehead. Your eyebrows pinched together in annoyance as you pushed her hand out of your face. "What's wrong? Do you wanna be mine?"

You scoffed and leaned back in your seat to create space between the two of you, "Like i said, your girlfriend wouldn't appreciate this, or did you forget you had one of those?" You mocked.

"Yeah" Yelena said bluntly with a slight smile, you scoffed and looked at her in anger. Getting up from your seat, you grabbed your bag and stood in front of her.

"Seriously? You're such an asshole." You snapped at her as she just leaned against the table behind her without a care in the world. "You know, you don't deserve Pieck." You huffed before turning your back on her and walking away.

"You're right." You stopped walking at her words but kept your back to her, "I don't deserve Pieck." Her steps got closer till she was finally behind you and towering over you as she did to everyone, "Which is why she isn't mine." She whispered in your ear.

Yelena smirked at the confusion coating your face as she walked around you till she stood right in front of you. "We're not dating. Which you would've known if you didn't jump to conclusions." She joked, you crossed your arms defensively.

"I walk in on you on top of my roommate and, what? Am i supposed to assume you were just kissing as friends?"

"Yes, exactly." She agreed, you snorted and rolled your eyes again. "Oh come on, its college, who doesn't kiss their friends?"

You turned to her with an incredulous look on your face, "Me? Who the hell kisses their friends?" You exclaimed

"Ah i understand now, if you want a kiss you could've just asked, babe." Yelena flirted, giving you a wink and smile. You felt your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you shook your head and began walking towards the exit of the library.

"I already told you, we're not friends, Yelena" you stated, the blonde haired woman snickered and walked in front of you, stopping you once more.

"We can be strangers who kiss, kitten. Maybe then the jealously won't get to that pretty head of yours." She joked, your mouth dropped open and you pushed her out of our way for the final time, not bothering to turn around.

"We are not friends."

"Not yet, my love." Yelena called out behind you as you stormed off, laughing your angry face that did nothing but make her want you even more.

Pushing open your dorm room door, you were somewhat relieved you didn't find any more PG-13 action going on again but still groaned and kicked off your shoes at the front of the door. Pieck looked up from her mini alter and waved at you with a small crystal in her hand.

"Hey, again." She greeted you, you mumbled back a greeting and hopped straight into bed, "Ew, outside clothes on the bed, kid." Pieck complained, you whined at how right she was and sat up again.

"I know I'm just tired." You whined, Pieck chuckled lightly and put down her incense and stood up to throw you a towel.

"Well you've got maybe 30 minutes before your next class, try to take a nap." She suggested, "What's got you so tired anyway?"

"Mmh, after my fourth period class i spent almost 2 hours in the library talking with Hange and after they left i started reading the book you packed, thanks for that by the way. Anyways, your girlfri—close friend, friend who you kiss - whatever the hell you two are started bugging me while i was trying to read." You spilled tiredly

"You mean Yelena?" You nodded, "Mhm I didn't know you guys were friends." Pieck inquired, you groaned again and stood up to stretch.

"We are NOT friends." You insisted, ready to head out the door, "you can have her all to yourself." you convinced yourself.

#yelena aot #pieck x y/n #pieck finger #yelena x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #hange zoe #zeke yeager #snk levi

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

jealous

wordcount: 3k

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex

______

After a little bit of bribery, Rafe convinced Sophie to come with him to a charity event he was representing his dad at in Columbus. Once Rafe had committed to Ohio State, Ward immediately began making contacts in Ohio and broadening his impact, putting Rafe to work - and still keeping him tied to the family business as much as he could. To convince Sophie just a little bit more (even though it wasn’t necessary, she’d stand by his side no matter what), he got the help of Allie and Julia to pick out a new dress for her and surprise her with it the morning of the event.

Once she learned that Ward wouldn’t be attending, she was a lot more excited for the event. Rafe made a show out of picking her up, coming to the door with flowers in hand. Word moved fast in the sorority house and by the time Sophie made it downstairs, there was a whole discussion in the groupchat about who the cute boy was wearing the suit and waiting outside their door. When she came down in the dress, red lipstick and all, he whistled, motioning for her to twirl.

Sophie grinned and rolled her eyes but spun for him. “Are those for me?”

He handed her the flowers, beaming. “Yes they are. You look incredible, baby.”

She blushed, shaking her head. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Here, I’ll be right back, let me run these up to my room.” She accepted the flowers and turned on her heel, striding upstairs.

Allie and Julia came back downstairs with Sophie, wearing matching grins. “Clean up nice, Cameron!” Julia called out with a smirk. “Yeah, do you have friends that'll buy us nice dresses and take us to galas?” Allie chimed in, laughing when Sophie gave her a shove on the way past.

“Ah, this one already tried that. Didn’t end well.” Rafe teased, sending a pointed glance to Julia. Julia’s cheeks heated almost instantly and she flipped him off, shaking her head. “You said we’d never speak of it again.”

“Pretty sure that was my rule.” Sophie interrupted, taking Rafe’s arm. “Leave my boyfriend -”

“Sugar daddy -”

“Oh my god, I told you to quit that -”

Allie cut both the girls off with a pointed “hey!” and Sophie rolled her eyes. “Julia, hush, Sophie, you go have fun. Snag us a bottle of fancy alc.”

Rafe laughed and waved goodbye to the girls, escorting Sophie out. “They’re fun. I’m glad they’re your friends.” She shook her head, laughing. “Sometimes I am not. Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You did a good job on the dress, I’m impressed.”

He smirked and helped her into the car, then ran one hand up her thigh. “I have to admit, I picked it out more for the slit up the leg than anything.” Sophie giggled and tugged on his tie to pull him in for a kiss. “Think we can sneak away early tonight?”

“We have my room available from...” He paused, thinking. “Eleven to midnight. The gala ends at ten thirty.”

She laughed, messing with the radio once he got in to drive. “We’re really scheduling sex like an old married couple?”

“We won’t have to when we’re old and married.” Rafe responded without missing a beat, then instantly realized and blushed, fumbling with his words. “Uh, I mean. Um. Yes, uh, but only because we have the roommates - I mean, next year, we’ll both have our own rooms, so -”

She cut him off, amused by his embarrassment. “I’m just messing with you. Besides, that’ll give you more than enough time to finish.”

“Sophie! Take it back. You know that’s not true.” He pushed her shoulder playfully, shaking his head.

“It was true after your formal.” She smirked, loving the way he squirmed when she teased him. The rest of the short ride was spent like that, with mindless flirting and teasing about sex, until he had to make her find directions to the venue.

When he parked, she moved to get out right away, but he reached over and grabbed her hand before she could get out of the car. “Hey, wait. Uh, I should maybe warn you -”

She raised her eyebrows. “Now you decide to warn me about something? Right before we’re going in?”

Rafe winced. “I love you?”

“Uh huh. Not the time. What do I need to know?”

He spoke quickly, knowing he was in trouble. “My ex will be there and she’s liked every picture of us together on Instagram and texted me that she was excited to see me this weekend.”

Sophie sat back in the seat, taking a deep breath as she processed the information. “Who? And you didn’t tell me this, why?”

“Brooklyn. And, uh...that’s a good question, Sophie. You know, I really appreciate your critical thinking skills, have I ever told you that?” He gave her a half-smile, trying to cheer her up without success.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Please shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes and got out with him, taking his arm when he offered it as they walked inside. Sophie didn’t ask much about his previous relationships, just noted when he brought it up infrequently and tried to reassure him that whatever his ex had told him, they were wrong and he was a great boyfriend. She only regretted not pushing more about it now, when she was about to meet the girl.

It was almost amusing watching him go into entertaining mode the second they stepped in and the first person came over to greet him - it was the same presence he commanded at parties, just remarkably more professional in that environment. After a solid hour of Sophie just standing by while Rafe made polite small talk, dinner was announced and they glanced over the table arrangements to find their spot.

“Oh, fuck.” Rafe mumbled under his breath, spying his ex’s name featured right next to his and Sophie’s. She noticed her name was written as Sophie Cameron, but decided to hold her tongue on the mix up.

She furrowed her brow, taking his hand. “It’s a minor thing, Rafe, I’m sure it was a simple mistake -”

“What? No, no.” He shook his head and pointed to the name Brooklyn Rowley at the head of the table. She nodded once in recognition, pretty sure her heart was sinking to her stomach at the moment. “Oh.”

“You know what? It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine, we won’t even have to talk to her, there’s fourteen people at the table. It’ll be fine.” He repeated, trying to reassure himself more than Sophie.

She let him lead her to the table - that was already full except for their two seats. Brooklyn practically jumped up out of her seat when she saw Rafe, grinning ear to ear. “Oh my god, Rafe, hi! Here, come sit next to me.”

Rafe gave Brooklyn an awkward side hug in response to her attempted bear hug, pulling out Sophie’s chair before taking his seat. “Brooklyn, this is my -”

“I’m Sophie.” She interrupted, giving the girl one of the fakest smiles Rafe had ever seen. “His girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you.” She reached across Rafe, extending her arm to shake Brooklyn’s hand.

Brooklyn pretended to be surprised as she shook Sophie’s hand. “Oh!” She elbowed Rafe teasingly. “She’s cute, Rafe. Didn’t think you’d jump into a relationship again, after.” She gave him a sly smile and touched his arm. “Well, you know.”

Sophie steeled herself, pouring herself a generous glass of wine from the table. Rafe gave a nervous chuckle and nudged his foot against Sophie’s under the table. “We’ve been together for four months now, there’s no jumping into anything. I’ve known Sophie since we were at least fourteen.”

“So you didn’t meet at school? Sophia, do you go to Ohio State with us too?” Brooklyn’s eyes flitted to Sophie’s fingers curled tight around the wine glass, asking the question right when she took a sip.

“No, we met in high school. We’re both from the Outer Banks.” Sophie explained, ultra-polite. “But I go to Ohio State, we just happened to end up here together.”

“Right, right. So you’ve met the family and everything. Has he taken you to the Bahamas house yet? The view is gorgeous.” Brooklyn grinned, touching Rafe’s hand again.

Sophie resisted from gritting her teeth as Rafe gave her a pained glance. “Um, no. I haven’t been.” She tried racking her brain and vaguely remembered a brief mention of the Bahamas from Sarah talking about their summers, but didn’t realize there was a whole vacation home involved.

“Oh! That’s funny. He took me after, like, two months.” She paused for a second to look Sophie over, pleased her words were clearly taking effect. “But it’s like, more of a summer house anyways, so the timing must not have worked out with you two yet. I mean, we went over Christmas break that one time, but -”

“We stayed home for Christmas this year.” Rafe interrupted, resting his hand on Sophie’s thigh under the table, but in clear view of Brooklyn’s line of sight.

Brooklyn nodded, not backing down. “So, Sophia -”

“It’s Sophie. But go on.” Sophie shot back an equally tense smile, feigning interest.

“Right, sorry, Sophie. There’s this gorgeous little private beach you can go to, you should go. If he ever takes you.” She touched Rafe’s shoulder and Sophie bit the inside of her cheek hard, feeling ready to snap. “Oh my god, Rafe, remember when we were drunk and we almost got caught on the beach?” She giggled. “Good thing we weren’t actually making love that time, but my top was off and everything, it was so embarrassing.”

“Sounds like it.” Sophie replied dryly, stepping on Rafe’s foot with her heel under the table. As much as she wanted to gag hearing about the two of them ‘making love,’ she just swallowed another big sip of wine instead. He let out a pained, quiet groan and Brooklyn frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Just, uh,” he gestured to their empty plates as they waited to be served. “Hungry, I guess. Hey, you’ve been to Barcelona, right? Sophie’s studying abroad there this summer, I’m really proud of her.” Rafe squeezed her thigh under the table, and Sophie relaxed a tiny bit.

Brooklyn shook her head. “No, I’ve been to Madrid. Spain is like, so much better in the off season. But that’s so exciting! What are you doing, how long will you be gone for?”

“It’s through my architecture major. I’m sure I’ll visit Madrid too at one point.” Sophie reached out and straightened Rafe’s collar, just for an excuse to touch him and stake some possession. “It’s for three months.”

“Three months...” She repeated, turning her attention to Rafe. “Are you going to be able to handle that?” Brooklyn laughed, glancing back at Sophie. “He was always so needy, isn’t he?”

“No. I haven’t noticed. We have a healthy relationship.” Sophie replied pointedly before Rafe could open his mouth.

“Right, of course.” Brooklyn gave her a grin, like she was sharing a secret with Sophie and Rafe wasn’t literally in between them. “Give him time, it’ll show. You said you’ve only been together for four months, right? That’s like, so soon in the relationship. Like, Rafe and I -”

Thankfully, the servers came to their table and interrupted them just as she was about to finish her sentence, and Sophie visibly relaxed as the speaker for the night started talking. Rafe leaned over and murmured in her ear. “I’m sorry, Soph.”

She just gave him a tight smile in response and turned her head, kissing his cheek chastely. Thankfully, the rest of the dinner was occupied by the guest speakers and left little room for side conversation, until the dance floor was opened up after the dessert. Sophie had limited herself to the single heavy pour of wine, while Brooklyn hadn’t held back and was clearly tipsy.

When the three stood after the last guest speaker, Brooklyn leaned into Rafe, giggling as she steadied herself on his extended arm. “Oops! Sorry. I’m kind of a lightweight.”

“Oh, I used to not be able to hold my liquor. In high school, I think.” Sophie couldn’t resist the dig and Rafe sent her a warning glance, taking her hand once Brooklyn was upright.

“Not all of us got blacked out at high school parties, Sophia, some of us had priorities.” Brooklyn told her pointedly, and Sophie only rolled her eyes. “But you’re in one of those trashy sororities, right? So I guess it makes sense.”

“Brooklyn, watch it.” Rafe cut in, sliding his arm protectively around Sophie’s waist. Sophie shook her head, keeping her eyes locked on Brooklyn’s. “It’s fine.”

“You could at least not be so obvious.” Brooklyn stated, taking a sip of her drink.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sorry, it’s just.” Brooklyn gestured to Sophie, to her dress and shoes, and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “There’s more to like about him than just the money, you know? Open your eyes, Rafe, you’re being used.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped and she took a quick step forward without even processing all the words that Brooklyn had said. “I can’t believe -” Rafe grabbed her around the waist and stepped in front of her, in between her and Brooklyn. “Sophie, don’t.”

She glanced over Rafe’s shoulder at Brooklyn and her smug smile, then looked back to him with a pleading look. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “Meet me out in the hallway?”

She only relented when he kissed her quickly, trying to calm her down more. Sophie reached into the inside of his suit jacket and pulled out the keys, placing a possessive hand on his chest for a steadying breath. “Fine. I’ll be in the car.”

“Aw, you’re leaving? It was nice to meet you, Sophia!” Brooklyn shot her a grin and Sophie grit her teeth, giving Rafe another look again, but he turned her away with both hands on her shoulders. “Ignore her. I’ll talk to her. Go.”

He kept his eyes trained on her until she left the dining room, then turned to Brooklyn, his tone icy but quiet so they didn’t make a scene. “What the fuck was that?”

“Come on, Rafe.” Brooklyn shrunk back a little, pouting. “You’re telling me that’s all real? Seriously? She’s so stiff.”

“Yeah, because she was trying to be polite while you were nothing but rude all evening.” He shot back, arms folded. “I thought you could be civil and finally mature about this. I guess I was wrong.”

“You’re not serious.” She rolled her eyes and reached out for Rafe, only for him to flinch away from her touch. “I mean, look at her. You think she compares to me?”

“No. She’s miles beyond you. She’s so damn clever, she’s fucking gorgeous and she’s loyal as hell.” He paused, a wave of hurt flashing across his face. “Unlike you.”

That seemed to break Brooklyn and her shoulders slumped, face dropping. “Rafe, I...I didn’t mean to hurt you -”

“Am I wrong?”

“He initiated it -”

“Am. I. Wrong.” He spoke evenly, nose flaring.

She sighed quietly. “No.”

“Goddamn it.” Rafe exhaled, nodding once. “Okay. That’s all I needed. Don’t text me again.” He turned sharply on his heel, ignoring her call after him. He strode out to the parking lot and got in his car where Sophie waited in the passenger seat, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Sophie was about to start on an impassioned rant until she noticed his set jaw and tense shoulders, and she reached over, combing one hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You alright?”

“I love you. So fucking much. You know that?” He asked after a moment, pressing his head back into her palm.

“I do. I love you too.” She hesitated. “You don’t believe any of that, what she said. Right?”

“No, god, of course not.” He cracked a grin at her. “If you were with me for my money you’d have let me pay for your jewelry tonight.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, tugging teasingly on his hair. “I have perfectly fine jewelry, it’s ridiculous, not to mention unethical, for you to buy me a new something for every event -”

“I know, I know.” He laughed and leaned over to catch her lips in a kiss. “I’m kidding, baby. You look stunning, no matter what you’re in.”

“I could have taken her, you know.” She squared up in her seat and pretended to punch the air. “Two hits and she’d be out.”

Rafe shook his head, grinning. “I know, that’s exactly why I held you back. Remind me to not get on your bad side.”

“You’ve already been on my bad side.” She informed him, lightly punching his arm. “I think you’re in the clear for a while.”

“Just a while?”

“Yeah, I gotta keep you on your toes.” She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “Is she - um, can I - do you have her blocked? I don’t want to overstep, but -”

“No, that’s a good idea. Go ahead.” He handed her his phone once it was unlocked, starting the car and backing out. “All of that was so fucked up, what she said.” He scowled. “And I promise I’ll take you to the Bahamas, it just felt early - I mean, I was nervous to even bring you to the Christmas party, much less family vacation, that’s unnecessary pressure for you -”

“You’re fine, Rafe.” She rested a reassuring hand on his thigh. “I promise. I don’t care about that. She was just trying to get under my skin.”

“I’m really sorry, I promise. I didn’t think she’d be that way or I would have just gone and switched tables with someone.” He frowned and stretched his arm out, resting it across the back of her seat. “She was so touchy.“

“I would have done something if she touched you again.” Sophie scowled, letting her head fall back against his arm. “I don’t like that.”

“Yeah? You jealous?” He resisted a grin, loving the way her nose scrunched up in the scowl.

“No, I know you’re mine.” She slid her hand up his thigh, squeezing once. “I just don’t like other girls flirting with you. It doesn’t feel right.”

“You’re the only one I want flirting with me for a long time.” He reassured her, sending her a smile.

Sophie shoved his shoulder with a grin, shaking her head. “Cheesy.”

“Yeah, and you love it.”

“You know I do.”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23

#rafe x sophie #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe cameron x oc #college rafe #frat rafe #mine #WHY CAN I NEVER END MY FICS COHERENTLY #fuck that #whatever the rest is good

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puckngrind · 3 years

Text

Columbus isn't home - J. Anderson

Summary: Josh returns to Columbus (winter 2021/2) for the first time since being traded.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of breakup, pandemic, rehab

Word count: 1,420

Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

“You don’t live here any more!” You screamed into your phone, ending the call then throwing your phone across the room. He didn’t live in Columbus anymore or the country for that matter. Josh was traded, sold his condo you two shared then blamed the border closer on his lack of return to Ohio before the season started last January. He found someone else to occupy his time in the year since you’ve seen him. While he wouldn’t tell you outright, the pictures didn’t lie. Punching the pillow and screaming again didn’t seem to help matters. Your phone rang again. Ignoring it and stepping outside into the cool winter air helped slightly.

The knock on the door startled you. “Ignore it.” You convinced yourself it was a salesman.

“Bells!” The recognizable voice shouted through the door. “Bells, damnit! I saw you standing at your balcony. Isabella!!” Josh’s voice got louder. A thud came from the door then silence.

Ding. The text alert lit up your phone from under the coffee table. Ding. Ding.

“Fuck off Anderson!” You thought you shouted but maybe it was a whisper. Closing the balcony door then fishing your phone from where you launched it you tip toe to the door to look out the peephole. Yup, Josh’s long legs spread into the hallway.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” Josh sensed you were at the door.

“Why? Don’t you have a game tomorrow or something?” You pressed your forehead into the door. The unfinished business between you two making you want to open the door for him.

“Yes and I don’t care if I play like shit if it means talking to you face to face.” Josh stands, presses his hands to either side of the door frame then stares at the glass that keeps flipping from light to dark. “Just let me in Bells. Please?” You cursed how good he looked and even through the door how he was effecting your body.

“If I open the door what will change?” You stand your ground mustering up all the hurt and anger from the past year.

“We can close the chapter. I can apologize properly. Bells, please?” Josh brushes his fingers through his wet long locks. Reminding you of his 2019 cup run. Told him how much you liked his hair long and he kept it. You huff out of exhaustion then unlock your deadbolt. Slowly opening the door feeling Josh’s piercing blue eyes on you before even looking up.

“Come in.” Your voice shaky with a hint of annoyance.

“Thanks Bella.” Josh shuffled past you brushing his knuckles slightly against your arm as he made his way into your place. “Nice place.” He looks it up and down.

“Well, it was what I could afford after being suddenly evicted from my gorgeous condo… oh wait?” The venom dripping from each word.

“I really am sorry. I should’ve…” Josh stands a safe distance but you still feel the heat radiating between you.

“Save it. You attempted to apologize for the shit show that was October 2020 and I’m done hearing it. Why are you really here Josh?” Your arms cross over your chest.

“I needed to see you. I wanted to say sorry in person. This is the first time I’ve been back. I’ve missed…”. You put your finger up to stop him.

“Don’t fucking say you missed me! We both know you left your Columbus life and didn’t look back. Found new friends, new team, new girl. Don’t get all nostalgic on me now that you are back thinking we can just be fuck buddies when the Habs are in town.” You almost growl at him then make your way to the kitchen. Having this conversation needed alcohol. Knowing Josh would follow you slam a bottled water on the counter. The lid almost popping off with force. Twisting off your drinks top and chugging it like water made your head spin a bit.

“Bells. That’s not it at all. Could you calm down, please?” Josh stepped closer. “I think you filled in some holes that aren’t true.”

“Oh, you are smooth. Is that how you got her in bed? Convinced her we broke up? Introduced her to the wives? Let her wear a WAGS jacket to the cup final? Please enlighten me on what holes I filled?” Pressing your lips to your bottle again not wanting to break eye contact with him.

“Let’s sit on the coach, eh?” He puts out his hand but you walk past him to what was once his couch and sit placing your feet up so he had to sit on the other end.

“So, talk.” You had forgotten how you still loved him because all you could see was the hurt he caused.

“I fucked up.” He leans into the back of the couch.

“Sure did.” You nod.

“Bells, this was never the plan. Ever. Ask any of the guys.” Josh bites his lip then looks down at your feet.

“I did. You were going to propose. Well at least that’s what ‘the guys’ told me. Since you decided to ignore them too and I really didn’t have anyone else here beyond the family we made with the team.” Your fingers were still up in the air from the air quotes.

“You could’ve gone home to Cleveland, Bella.” Josh mumbled.

“I made a life here Josh. Remember? Job, friends, you. The only thing that left was you.” You snap.

“I’m a dumbass.”

“You could say that again.”

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” He repeats causing you to laugh a little. “Your laugh is contagious you know. I swear I hear it sometimes sitting in my apartment alone.”

“Alone?” You narrow your brow knowing she was living with him.

“Yeah. I told her I was still in love with you and sorry I lead her on the way I did.” Josh buries his face into his hands.

“Is that why your brother snapped me stating you were a fucking mess?”

“Probably.”

“Then why has it taken you this long to get back here? Say these things?” Your voice softened but guard still very much up.

“I wallowed in my parents’ basement for a good two to three weeks." Josh admits. "Four weeks according to your Mom." You insert.

"What?" Josh was confused. "Anyway, decided to find a trainer in Montreal. When the border opened I wanted to come find you but you wouldn’t return my calls or texts or anything. And I get it, because I hurt you probably more than anyone ever has or will. I don’t deserve you, Bells. I have never deserved you. You’ve always been too good for my idiotic self.” Josh sniffles causing you to look over at him. His sweatpants now wet from tears dripping down his arms.

“Josh.” You whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I didn’t ask you to say anything Bella.” Josh sits up wiping his face with his sleeve which makes you giggle.

“You want a tissue there Anderson?” Pulling the box from behind the couch. Josh grabbing one with a nod. The two of you sat in silence. Not really knowing what to say but just sitting there feeling the weight of the situation. Finally, the words come to you lips.

"You did hurt me the most of anyone, ever. You dumped our entire world for, what? Money? I was ready to follow you anywhere and you didn't even give me a chance. Do you not remember the rehab? Our trip to Vail for your surgery? You were pushing me away and I wrote it off as pain. Then... then... You just left. Left. Found an upgrade on all aspects of life and moved the fuck on. I was left to pick up the pieces. Yeah, I still love you but I'm not sure I trust you. I'm not in love with you. But, yeah, Josh. I still love you and it fucking hurts."

"But you still love me?" Josh had a small glimmer of hope in his voice.

"J, you live in Canada not Columbus." You whisper out.

"But the fact that you still love me is a start, Bells." Josh turns to you.

"Is it?" You question looking deep into his eyes. "Columbus will never be your home again and I cannot just live in Montreal."

"You sure about that Isabella?" Josh shuffles around. You look down, eyes going wide.

"Don't!"

#77 andy man 17 #Columbus isn't home #J Anderson fic #semi requested

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daveyjacobss · 3 years

Text

skeletons in the bathroom

racetrack higgins x reader

summary: it’s spooky season, and is there anything scarier than having to confront and admit your feelings for one of your closest friends? (or, in which y/n is helping race get ready for a halloween party and desperately trying not to think about how much she wants to kiss him.)

a/n: i did it!! a halloween fic out for october 2020!! sorry it’s so late in the month, life has been very hectic with an overload of assignments and plenty of politics induced stress. anyway this is unedited so sorry in advance but i hope you like it :)

masterlist

__________

This had been such a bad idea. Why on earth had she agreed to this? What kind of astounding lack of brain cells had led to her saying yes to attending her own goddamn funeral?

"Albert, you would leave flowers at my grave, wouldn't you?" She turned to look at him just in time to see him roll his eyes. Jojo and Finch, sitting across from them at their table in the library, both stared at her with equally confused and amused expressions.

"Y/N if you tell me you're gonna die one more time, I'll literally kill you myself." Albert fixed her with a halfhearted glare, brushing his hair out of his face. She groaned and dropped her head down on top of her arms, resting lazily in the tabletop. Jojo laughed quietly at her, but she didn't have the heart to give him a death stare in return.

"Out of curiosity," Finch started, effectively abandoning his work, "what kind of flowers would you want?" She lifted her head, pursing her lips in concentration as she thought the question over.

"I don't know, either something really pretty or something ridiculously dramatic." Albert sighed beside her, finally putting his pencil down. Jojo had stopped actually trying to get work done a half hour prior. "Like, some pretty marigolds or daisies would be cool, ya know? But, also, a single red rose would have a very nice effect." Jojo nodded along with her.

"What about black dahlias?" He asked. Y/N perked up at that.

"Oh, yes! Definitely achieving that she-was-probably-murdered-and-the-killer-is-leaving-flowers vibe." She high fived Jojo while Finch shook his head at them. Albert hit her from her right side—lightly, but she let out a loud "ow!" anyway.

"Can you stop moping and acting like you're gonna die? You're the one who got yourself into this mess." She went back to being miserable immediately, groaning again for effect.

"Will someone please explain why she's dying?" Finch asked, directed more at the other two boys than at Y/N. Albert rolled his eyes again.

"Race asked her to do his makeup for his skeleton costume before the party tonight and she said yes, but now she thinks she's gonna die when she does it." He punctuated his words with a pointed look at her which effectively communicated all of his exasperation as well as the sentiment he had been expressing to her for almost two years, that she should just go for it and ask Race out. She ignored it completely.

"I am going to die!" She threw her hands in the air for dramatic effect, giving Finch and Jojo her best 'I'm in despair' look. "I'm gonna have to be ridiculously close to his face—and his lips—for way too long! I'm gonna either go insane and launch myself out the fucking window or die of embarrassment."

All three boys laughed at her. Insulted, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at them.

"Y/N, it'll be fine," Finch said, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. "Anyway, why can't you just ask him out already and not have to deal with the funeral arrangements?" She offered him her best deadpan stare.

"C'mon, Y/N," Jojo chimed in. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"Oh no, don't get her started," Albert groaned.

"The worst that could happen? Are you kidding?" She looked at them incredulously. "Well, for starters, I could tell him I like him and then he could be disgusted because why would he ever like me back when he's him and I'm me, and then, because he was your friend first and things are super awkward between me and him, we drift apart, and then I lose all of my friends and I die alone with no one to leave black dahlias on my grave in order to entertain my dramatics." Finch blinked, staring at her with wide eyes as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard.

"Hold on," Jojo spoke up again, face contorted with anger. "He would not be disgusted. Even if he didn't like you back, which he does—"

"Does not," she grumbled.

"Does too," they all answered in unison.

"He wouldn't be mean about it," Jojo continued.

"And we wouldn't stop being your friends," Albert added.

"Plus, even if we suddenly become arch enemies I'm totally still leaving black dahlias on your grave for dramatics," Finch grinned, winking at her. That got her to laugh a little, smiling back at him.

"I just..." She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I don't want to ruin anything, and I don't want everything to change between us. I'm fine being his friend, that's enough for me. It's just hard to keep my feelings in check when he gets too close to me." Her eyebrows furrowed while she fidgeted with her fingers, not liking how vulnerable she felt while telling all of them that. Albert's arm slid around her shoulders, bringing her into his side. It was awkward and uncomfortable leaning across the gap between their chairs, but she enjoyed the comfort anyway.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said gently. "You have our support either way." Jojo and Finch nodded, both smiling encouragingly at her. She smiled back at them, moving to gather up all of her papers. The boys followed suit, shoving everything back in their backpacks.

"Thank you," she said quietly just as they were all pushing their chairs in.

"Anytime," Albert grinned brightly, throwing his arm around her again and leading them out of the building. A wind blew as they walked out into the October sun, sending a chill through her body and causing her to lean into Albert's body for warmth. They all started walking in the direction of their on-campus apartments, pointing out the most colorful trees and joking about the upcoming party with easy smiles.

"Speak of the devil," Jojo muttered from behind her. She went to turn back to look at him and ask what he meant, but Albert pulled her more securely against him and she laughed.

"Hey guys!" Finch called out, waving wildly. She looked in the direction he was facing and saw Race walking in the opposite direction with Romeo across the street from them. She felt heat rush to her face automatically, lifting her hand in a small wave while sporting a shy smile. Albert and Jojo waved enthusiastically with Finch, receiving an equally energetic wave from Romeo and a small wave from Race. Y/N tilted her head in confusion, frowning. Race never missed the chance to make an ordeal out something as small as seeing his friends across the street, was something wrong? No one else seemed concerned, though, and their small group kept moving. If anything, Finch and Jojo seemed amused, snickering quietly behind her and Albert.

They parted to go to their respective apartments, all three boys giving Y/N a hug goodbye. She took full advantage of their attempts at comfort, holding them tightly and burying her head in their chests. Once she was back in her apartment, her roommates thankfully back home for the weekend, she dropped her bag on the floor and took a deep breath. Race was set to come over a little while later to get ready for the party, that left her some time to clean up a little. He wouldn't care if the apartment was dirty, but she couldn't get rid of the urge to make sure the counters were decluttered and the bathroom where she would be doing his makeup smelled nice. Plus, at least it would give her something to do to distract herself from her ever growing anxiety.

She was definitely going to die.

__________

Race was ten minutes late, but Y/N had already figured he would be when his "omw" text didn't come until a minute after he was supposed to be at her apartment. He grinned at her when she opened the door, arms (adorably) holding the straps of his backpack that she assumed was carrying his costume.

"I wasn't sure if you would want me to put on the costume before or after the makeup," he said as he walked in. "So I just brought it to change into." She liked the way he looked so comfortable in her apartment, facing her casually with his hair messy from the wind. She smiled softly at him, unable to contain her ever present joy at seeing him.

"Before, definitely. If you put it on after you might mess your face up." He nodded, already shrugging his bag off his shoulder.

"Your room okay?" He asked, gesturing in the direction of her bedroom.

"'Course. Just don't mess with anything in there." She playfully pointed a finger at his chest and he laughed as he moved into her room and closed the door behind him. She walked into the bathroom, taking deep breaths and trying to tell herself everything would be okay. Her and Race were friends, and she was perfectly capable of helping him with his Halloween makeup like a normal person. Maybe. Hopefully. Kinda. Probably not. God, she was hopeless.

He found her in the bathroom obsessively reorganizing the makeup, dressed in his full skeleton getup. She smiled when she saw him in it, happy that he hadn't picked something with a good that would have concealed his beautiful curls. With his lanky stature and gangly limbs, the costume worked perfectly for him. He grinned back at her, doing a little shimmy that made her laugh.

"You like?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she shook her head in a amusement.

"It looks good," she confirmed, their usual joking banter hindered by her nerves. "We should get started so we have enough time, I still need to get changed and finish my makeup, too." She patted the bathroom counter and he followed her hand, hoisting himself up so he was sitting on the counter facing her, swinging his legs.

She tried not to think too hard as she started on his face, going in with a layer of white before anything else. She could feel his breath on her wrist, but she tried not to think about it. Thinking about it meant her own breath would hitch and then, because their faces were so close, he would notice. She brought a hand up to his jaw to steady his face and resolutely did not think about how easy it would be to pull him to her and kiss him.

Part of her wanted to listen to the boys. She wanted to say fuck it and tell him how she felt about him. She wanted to flirt with him while she had him at her mercy like this, wanted to lean in and put a hand on his thigh for balance just to see how he would react. She wanted to know if his breathing would change, if his heart would skip a beat, if he would look at her with wide eyes or if he would simply smirk and carry on. Or maybe he wouldn't do anything, because it would nothing but a meaningless gesture to him. But, god, she wanted to try. And she wanted to kiss him so badly.

Still, the other part of her triumphed. The part that told her he didn't feel the same way about her, that to him she was just a good friend and if she went and did something stupid she would ruin that.

She asked him to close his eyes and he did so obediently. She took the chance to look at his lips while he wouldn't be able to notice, realizing how quiet he'd been the whole time so far. Once his face was fully covered with white he opened his eyes and she took a small break, giving herself some time to calm down her erratic heart beat. He kicked his legs out again without her standing in front of him to block them.

"So," he started, staring down at his feet instead of looking at her. She tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to continue. "You and Albert, huh?" Her eyebrows furrowed and she stopped short as she went to grab a brush, paused in confusion. "What's going on there?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, trying to laugh to diffuse whatever tension had just overtaken the room but only managing a nervous chuckle.

"You two looked pretty cozy earlier, outside. Do I gotta start preparing myself for you to be acting all gross and couple-y whenever we go out now?" His voice sounded strained, like he was trying to force the question to be casual. She figured it was because he was upset Albert and her wouldn't tell him something like—which, they totally would if that was at all a possibility. Which it wasn't. The whole idea was so ridiculous a strangled laugh bubbled out of her throat.

"Oh, god no. There is nothing romantic happening between me and Albert." She looked down at her hands, avoiding having to look at his face. "No, it was just cold, you know? And he was trying to comfort me because I was upset." Suddenly he was there, standing in front of her. He gently tilted her chin up to look at him and used his other hand to grab hers.

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

She was going to cry. She was going to burst into tears, standing in her own bathroom with Race's touch overwhelming her senses. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome and funny and kind and loving. It wasn't fair that whenever he looked at her she felt like no one else existed. It wasn't fair that she couldn't breathe with his hand still resting just under her chin. And the universe was just playing dirty having him call her babe like it was nothing, like it didn't make her heart swell in her chest. Like it didn't absolutely break her. She was definitely gonna cry, her eyes already watery.

His concern only seemed to increase when he saw the distraught look on her face. He tried to take another step toward her but she moved backward, detaching herself from his hands. She breathed deeply, running her hands through her hair as she tried to keep herself from sobbing. He looked so worried—so sad—and it just wasn't fair.

"I'm—" Her words got caught on the lump in her throat. "It's nothing, really. I'm just being dumb." He looked at her disbelievingly.

"Y/N c'mon, you're clearly upset, let me—" He cut himself off at the way she back away from him again while he reached out, hurt flashing across his face. "Here, why don't we just skip out on the party? I'll stay here with you and we can watch old Disney Halloween movies or something." She wanted that so bad, she wanted that more than anything she had ever wanted. But she couldn't, it would only hurt her more.

"No," she sniffled, regaining her composure. "No, you should go. I might stay back, I dunno. But I don't wanna keep you from having fun."

"Hey." His voice was soft, the corners of his lips turning upwards just slightly. He was so beautiful she could have died over it. "I always have fun with you, party or not. If you don't go, I don't go."

"God, Race. You can't just—you can't say things like that." She huffed while he blanched in confusion. "It's not fair."

"What? I don't—"

"Listen, I'll finish your makeup, yeah? And then we'll go to the party and we can pretend like this never happened. Okay?" He nodded mutely, slowly positioning himself back on the counter. The concern wasn't gone from his eyes and his mouth was set in a frown, but he complied.

Not crying was a constant effort the entire time she finished his skeleton makeup. She felt her lip quiver at more than one point and Race's eyes kept darting down toward it. She did her best to keep it steady, not wanting him to see her cry. He had seen her cry before, of course, over classes and movies and the like, but there was a special kind of shame associated with him seeing her cry over him.

It wasn't until after she was done that he spoke up again. "Do you not want to be alone with me?" He asked it so quietly she was sure it must not have come from him, used to his loud, boisterous voice. Her heart broke all over again.

"That's not it, Race. You know that, right? It's not your fault I'm upset." It wasn't, really. If she was going to blame anyone it would all be on herself.

"What, then?" The joking tone was back in his voice, clearly trying to diffuse the tension and brighten the mood. "Too afraid you won't be able to control yourself around me?" Yes. "I know you'd love to jump these bones." She laughed despite herself, playfully hitting his arm. Her reaction made him smile again, and she was glad. He always knew how to cheer her up.

It only took a little while longer for her to change into her costume (just a regular witch in shades of black and purple) and put on her makeup. Race watched her as she put on her dark lipstick, making her nervous and subsequently causing her hands to shake, but she made it through alright.

They left just a bit before the party was supposed to start, Y/N shivering in the cold air as they walked. Race glanced at her a few times, seemingly conflicted, before cautiously wrapping an arm around her. She leaned into his touch and he gripped shoulder more firmly, pulling her into his side. When they stopped to let a car go by she turned to him and wrapped both her arms around him, basking in his warmth. Race was like a heater, generating warmth from the day she met him. He returned her embrace, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He mumbled into her ear. A shiver went down her spine at his voice so close to her ear, but she nodded, holding him tighter. They were later to the party then they should've been, having spent a good amount of time in that embrace. It had made her heart all fluttery, not to mention the way it did somersaults every time Race looked at her for the rest of the walk (which was a lot, he must have been really worried).

She expected him to split off once they entered, going to look for some of his other friends, but he stuck by her side. It made her smile, the butterflies in her stomach going wild. They went to grab drinks together and ran into Finch.

"Hey!" He smiled dopily, clearly a little tipsy already. "The makeup looks great," he gestured at Race's face. "And you two look so cute together." Heat rushed to Y/N's face as she quickly took a sip of her drink in order to avoid having to respond. Race simply laughed.

"Yeah, Y/N did an awesome job, right? I knew she would, though. I could feel it in my bones." Y/N groaned and Finch cringed.

"That was awful, dude." Race grinned proudly anyway, waving as Finch left to go back to the friends he was with.

"Did you pick this costume just so you could make bad jokes?" Y/N turned to face Race, raising an eyebrow. He winked, which was all the answer she needed. She wanted to give some sort of sarcastic remark in return, but the wink made her giggle nervously. He seemed content with her response all the same.

About three thousand skeleton jokes later (he had literally greeted Davey by saying "bonejour." Davey had promptly turned around and left the two of them without saying a word), Y/N and Race were sat on the couch together, chatting amicably. She felt better with a bit of alcohol in her veins and a few buckets of false hope from the fact that Race hadn't tried to leave her side once the whole time they'd been there.

"You're such an idiot," she laughed uncontrollably as he relayed a story about him following a squirrel across campus the week prior.

"What can I say?" He grinned cheekily. Her smile dropped.

"Don't you dare—"

"I'm a bonehead." He knocked on his head for good measure.

"Okay that's it, I'm leaving." She moved as if to get up before Race reached out to grab her arm.

"Y/N, no!" He managed to get out through his laughter. "Don't leave me bonely!" She stared at him in disbelief.

"You're the worst," she groaned as she let him pull her back into her seat next to him.

"But you love me anyway." He poked her side and she looked at his face. The makeup looked good, she had to admit, but she wished it had been able to mask his face better. Because looking at his face was still looking at his face, makeup or no makeup, and she had a bad habit of getting caught up in looking at his face. His features seemed to tense, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly. "Drinks!" He said suddenly, breaking their staring contest and practically jumping out of his seat. "I'm gonna go get us more drinks." She nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she watched him scurry off. That had certainly been strange.

"Fancy seeing you here." She turned to see Albert falling into Race's spot beside her, grinning around his own drink.

"Hey," she smiled, adjusting her witch hat.

"You and lover boy work things out yet?" She punched his arm and he gaped at her.

"Shut up," she hissed. "It's not gonna happen, let it go." He rolled his eyes.

"You sure? Because, from what I've seen, he hasn't stopped staring at you all night." She glared at the redhead, pouting.

"Stop giving me hope, asshole. It just makes this worse."

"Makes what worse?" She looked up to find Race standing in front of them, two drinks in hand. She took one from him with a smile.

"Nothing," she shook her head. "Albert's just being annoying."

"Isn't he always?" Race asked with a smirk the same time that Albert said "hey!" Deciding this would be her best chance at payback for teasing her about her crush on Race, she pushed Albert off the couch. Race laughed loudly, stepping over his friend to return to his seat. She smiled brightly at him and he grinned back, bumping her shoulder with his. She had to take a drink to stop the flustered laughter from escaping her throat.

"You two suck," Albert groaned from their feet. It only made them laugh more, still giggling even as Albert stood up grumpily and walked away without saying goodbye.

"Your costume looks really good, by the way." She turned to Race, her smile faltering. "I didn't tell you earlier, but I like it." He said it so earnestly, looking right into her eyes. The only thing she could think of was hoping the boys were ready with those black dahlias, because she was a total goner.

"Thank you," she said softly, lost in his gaze. She thought about them in the bathroom, how she had wanted to put her hand on his thigh just to see how he would react. Thinking of what Albert had said and taking another gulp of her drink, she did just that. She leaned forward and put her hand on his thigh to steady herself. He froze. It was hard to tell over the noise of the party, but she thought she might have heard his breath hitch. She couldn't look away from him, her eyes once again finding his lips.

"You spent so long on this makeup," he muttered. "And it looks really cool." She tilted her head in confusion.

"Huh?"

"I really don't wanna ruin it. I'm sorry."

"Why would you—"

But then he kissed her, so no question she could have asked mattered anyway. He was kissing her. Oh, Albert was gonna laugh so hard when he heard about this.

She kissed him back fervently, one of her hands tangling in the curls at the back of his head while the other remained on his thigh to keep herself steady. One of his hands rested lightly on her waist, squeezing just slightly, while the other caressed her jaw. It felt like in the bathroom earlier that night when he had tilted her chin to look at him, but so much better.

He pulled back before she was ready, eyes still closed as she unconsciously chased his lips. She opened her eyes to see his makeup smudged and definitely some her lipstick on his lips, a warm feeling settling in her chest. But his mouth was pulled into a frown and it sobered her quickly. He was pulling at his hair, his eyes wide with panic and sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he panted. "You're upset, I shouldn't have done that. I've been trying to cheer you up and now I've, like, totally taken advantage of you when you're vulnerable and—"

"Race." He looked at her, face practically begging for forgiveness. She reached for his hands with a small smile. "You're not taking advantage of me. I was only upset because I thought I didn't have a chance with you." She shrugged slightly, averting her eyes. He gaped at her.

"You didn't have a chance with me? Are you kidding?" He tightened his grip on her hands, pulling himself closer to her. "Y/N, I've been pining after you since, like, the day we met. You're ridiculously out of my league." She looked at him with wide eyes, meeting his gaze. They both broke out into grins at the same time before she was leaning in again and he was following.

He tasted like candy and alcohol and she couldn't have asked for anything better. They slid closer to each other on the couch until her hands were clasped together behind his neck, playing with his curls, and his were holding her waist. She couldn't get enough of him. She didn't think she would ever get enough of him. They were both breathing heavily when they pulled away again, foreheads resting against each other.

"You know," Y/N breathed. "If that whole 'just the two of us spending the night at my apartment and watching old halloween movies' offer is still on the table...." He laughed quietly, his head falling to the crook in her neck.

"Definitely still on the table." He pressed a light kiss to her neck and she was dragging him into a standing position immediately, fully ready to get away from all the other partygoers. She wouldn't be able to handle it if his hands wandered any further than they had already gone, she needed time to breathe and process—preferably away from the crowd.

He held her hand and lead her through the sea of people to the front door. Jojo caught sight of them as they made their way out and, presumably seeing their joint hands and messed up makeup, whooped at them. Y/N laughed and Race stuck his tongue out at his friend.

"Which movie do you wanna watch first?" She asked as they walked back, holding onto his arm and leaning into his side.

"Oh, definitely Halloweentown." She smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. He chuckled when they pulled apart. "You know, I would say a skeleton pun right now, but I don't have the guts to ruin this moment."

"Oh my god, Race."

__________

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

intensity | myg

⇥ pairing: yoongi x reader ⇥ genre: angst, smut, fluff, established relationship ⇥ summary: this is a sequel to intimidation. in which yoongi is intense in every facet of their relationship, except one… and the reader is on a mission to find out why. ⇥ word count: 3.9k ⇥ warnings: nc17, cursing, dirty talk, general chaos, dom!yoongi with a side of switch, sub!reader with a side of switch, rough smut [oral (f receiving), light choking, spanking, breast worship, slight marking, slight ownership kink, unprotected sex (wrap it, folx, please), mentions of threesomes]

⇥ dedication: @shadowsremedy heaaaath bby! i hope you like this! i think it might be terrible, but plz enjoy anyway sdfsdhbakj

⇥ prequel: intimidation

Six months into dating Min Yoongi and you were so fucking whipped for him that you might just say the dreaded “L” word.

Was it too soon to know? The majority of your friends sure thought so - Nia being the exception.

(“Wife him up, girl!”)

The majority of your friends also thought that Yoongi never outwardly showed how much he cared for you. But, you knew they just weren’t looking hard enough.

They weren’t looking at the way he linked his pinky with yours just to be connected to you. They weren’t looking at the way he always gave you his full and undivided attention no matter how trivial of a story you told. They weren’t looking at the way he flushed a light shade of pink whenever you complimented his music.

But you were looking. God, you were looking so hard you feared you might just melt under the intensity that was Min Yoongi.

Everything about Yoongi was intense: his aura, his focus, his ambition.

Everything about dating Yoongi was even more intense: his devotion, his affection, his possessive nature.

Everything about him was intense… Everything except one thing.

Sex.

And you were baffled.

Yoongi treated you like a queen, albeit a fragile one. He fucked you like you might break under him. He fucked you softly, sweetly.

You weren’t saying that the sex wasn’t good. He always made sure that you came multiple times with his fingers, his tongue, his cock. But it just wasn’t enough. It was like he was holding part of himself back from you. And you just wanted to know why.

Were you not attractive enough to evoke such fervor? Was he not into it? Oh lord, did he think you sucked at sex? You could pull out some receipts that said otherwise.

And, yet, the absolute worst part of it all was the fact that Yoongi’s reputation for being a dominant lover preceded him. You heard it from your friends, you heard it from the twitter-verse, you heard it from his friends… fuck, you’d even heard it from your damn T.A.

And yet, all Yoongi gave you was sweet, sweet vanilla.

And all you wanted was some damn rocky road.

The tipping point came earlier that night when you had overheard Yoongi and his friends talking about you…

“Aren’t you bored, Yoongi? What do you even do together? Make flashcards?”

That was one fucking time, you had glared accusingly at the wooden door that separated you from where Yoongi and his friends had been congregated in his tiny dorm room. Your ears had strained to catch Yoongi’s muttered response through the cacophony of laughter and had failed miserably.

When you had planned to surprise your boyfriend after your night class had been cancelled, you’d never thought that you would end up being the one caught off guard.

You hadn’t initially meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but his friends had just been so loud and your curiosity had just gotten the best of you.

“She’s such a goody-goody… I bet she doesn’t let you get rough.”

That time you had heard Yoongi’s answer: “I just don’t know if she could handle it… (y/n) is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want to mess it up if I blow her back out and break her.”

You had heard enough. Turning on your heel, you had marched back down the dimly lit hallway towards the stairwell.

“Couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle it?”

Now, you found yourself still seething hours later. Livid, but not without plans. You had already decided to take this matter into your own hands days earlier, but now your timeline had shifted. Oh, Min Yoongi would rue the day…

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror as you applied your blood red lipstick. Your phone long since silenced lit up for the umpteenth time that evening.

You were ignoring him. Was it petty? Yes. Was it strategic? Fuck yes.

You knew that Yoongi would be going to Seokjin’s birthday party tonight. The older boy had blackmailed Yoongi into going a few weeks ago by threatening to release an old demo that Yoongi had made in his early teens.

Suddenly, you were also going to make an appearance - a complete coincidence, of course.

Nia had convinced you that going with her to this party would drive Yoongi crazy, especially since you'd been ignoring him. But she also had an ulterior motive. Nia and Jimin had been hooking up on and off since you and Yoongi had gotten together; and, right now, they were very much in an 'on' phase.

You gave yourself one last glance over in the mirror and shrugged. The little black dress and heeled ankle boots would do. After all, it was really what was underneath that counted.

The new lingerie that you had impulse-ordered a few days ago after brainstorming ideas on how to make Yoongi lose his mind had arrived. The set that you settled on tonight might just achieve that goal - all black lace with garters and thigh highs.

It had put a nice dent in your wallet, but it would be well worth it if your boyfriend finally fucked you into next week.

Speaking of... your phone lit up yet again, this time with an incoming call. You were so tempted to pick up. Yoongi's voice was your favorite - all deep and raspy and teasing.

Your freshly manicured finger sent him to voicemail.

“(Y/n)!” Nia’s voice called from her bedroom adjacent to the bathroom you currently resided in, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, let’s do this.”

Fifteen minutes later, you walked through Jin’s front door. “Whoa,” Nia stopped short, making you bump into her.

“What?” You surveyed the crowded room. Then you spotted him. “Oh my god.”

Jin stood atop the coffee table wearing nothing but a pair of banana-printed shorts and a felt birthday cake hat. He was also dancing rather aggressively to “Birthday Cake” by Rihanna.

“Yah!” His attention suddenly fell on you and Nia, “Wel-come and put your name on it.”

You both gaped at the birthday boy who now was descending into a twerking fit while screaming the word ‘cake’ alongside Rihanna.

“Do you think it’s too late to turn back?” You whispered to Nia.

“He’s already seen us. We’re doomed,” Nia responded, her eyes still glued to Jin’s writhing form.

Laughing, you grabbed Nia’s wrist and tugged her towards the kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt eyes on you, on your body. You knew that Yoongi was here somewhere, and he’d seen you. It would be so easy to just go up to your boyfriend and smother him with kisses and affection like usual; but, that was not on the agenda. And so you forged forth without a backwards glance towards the living room where he must have been.

After fixing a drink and losing Nia quickly to Jimin, you were still steadfastly avoiding going back into the living room. Now, you were in a nice conversation with a boy named Jinyoung about the merits of being in Slytherin.

"Can I talk to you?" Yoongi pushed in between you and Jinyoung, effectively interrupting your rant over how Slytherin ambition can be used for good.

"Can it wait?" You spared your boyfriend a cursory glance before turning back to Jinyoung. Yoongi already looked thoroughly pissed off. Perfect. Suppressing a smile, you tried to reinstate your conversation with Jinyoung and pretend that Yoongi was not even there.

Yoongi let out a low growl before snapping, “No, it can't wait." He grabbed your hand and began to pull you down the narrow hallway. Your feigned protests fell on deaf ears as he continued to tug you along towards Jin's room. You waved in departure at an amused Jinyoung who just raised his glass in your direction.

Opening the door, Yoongi pushed you inside and slammed the door shut behind him. Crossing his arms across his chest, Yoongi pinned you with his stare. “Are you mad at me?" His question came with an accompanying head tilt and eyebrow raise.

“No. What makes you say that?” You reveled in the scoff he made in response.

Yoongi stalked towards where you stood at the foot of Jin’s bed. “You haven’t answered my texts or calls. You haven’t acknowledged me all night. You even walked right by me earlier in the living room, baby. So help me out, because I’m a little confused.”

“Join the club.”

“What was that?” His narrowed eyes spat fire in your direction. The words you had mumbled under your breath were obviously not as subtle as you thought.

“Nothing, baby.” You smiled innocently despite your boyfriend’s growing fury. “I just didn’t see you or your texts earlier.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “Bullshit.”

“Yoongi, drop it.”

“No, I won’t drop it, (y/n)! You’re obviously mad at something I did.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh my god. You’re fucking furious.”

“I’m not mad, okay? God, I am so tired of you parading around like you know every damn thing about me. Well, guess what: you don’t, Min Yoongi!”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows had practically disappeared under the fringe of his hair during your outburst. His eyes were comically wide as you continued.

“You think I’m so fucking breakable? Newsflash, buddy, I’ve been someone else’s sub before! But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You wouldn’t even know the first thing about what I like in bed. And you know why? Because you’ve never asked!”

Yoongi no longer looked shellshocked. No. Now, he just looked downright agitated. “Baby, calm down.”

This little shit right here…

“Oh no, you don’t get to tell me to calm down! Not when you’ve been going around telling everyone and their mother that you fuck me like I’m fragile. And, meanwhile, I’m over here being bombarded with people ranting and raving about how rough you are in bed! Well, if you’re so rough and ready then why the fuck am I still getting this sweet vanilla shit? Am I not attractive enough for you, is that it?”

“Kitten, I’d really advise you to stop talking.” The new nickname flew right over your head as you spared a glance in his direction and swallowed. His expression was thunderous. Too bad you were too far into your rant to turn back now.

“I must be really fucking boring to you if you won’t even consider spicing things up with me! Am I not pleasing enough for you to want your fucking mark on my body? Is that it? Or are you just tired of me in general?“

“You’re playing a very dangerous game here, (y/n)…” Yoongi cupped your chin in his hand tightly and drew your face up to his. You gulped. You had never seen your boyfriend look so angry, so punishing, so hot. He continued, “I’ve told you before that I’d give you anything if you just asked for it. So, I just want you to think about what you’re asking for here.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. “I haven’t thought about anything else for fucking weeks! I even considered asking Sehyun for advice!”

“And who’s Sehyun?”

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You had not planned to mention your dominant ex-boyfriend as part of this conversation.

“(Y/n), I am going to ask you one more time… Who. Is. Sehyun?”

In your tiniest voice, you replied, “My ex who used to dom me.”

Yoongi hissed a breath in between his teeth. “So, you’re telling me that instead of coming to me with this, you thought about going to your fucking ex? Your old dom?”

This was not good. This was really not good.

“That’s not the point!”

“You’re right.” Yoongi suddenly sits on the edge of the bed and tugged me face down across his lap. “The point is that you’ve been bad. And bad girls get punished.”

It was honestly embarrassing how quickly you got wet after he uttered those words with you splayed out on top of him. Positioned like this, you felt vulnerable, totally at his mercy.

Yoongi rolled up the bottom of your dress. As you felt the cool air of the room brush your lace-covered ass and thighs, Yoongi sucked in a breath. You felt his gaze on you. “Kitten,” His voice came out deeper than you had ever heard it before, "Did you buy these for me?"

You shimmied your hips on his lap, craving any sort of friction. "Yes," you moaned as you felt Yoongi's fingers hook under one of your garters, before pulling and snapping it back onto the skin of your thigh. The accompanying sharp sting of pain only made you even more soaked - a fact that was not lost on Yoongi.

"You like that, don't you?" Yoongi repeats his actions on your other thigh before murmuring lowly, "Don't you, my little slut?"

You let out an involuntary moan at his filthy words, grinding into his dark jeans.

Smack. Yoongi slapped one of your cheeks, startling you with both the sound and the sting.

“I asked you a question.“ Yoongi's hand kneaded your ass, causing the prickling of pain to quickly turn to pleasure.

"I do! I do like it, daddy.” The title slipped out automatically, but judging by the way Yoongi's cock twitched underneath you, he didn't mind.

"Fuck yeah, kitten. Call me daddy.”

Yup, he really didn't mind.

"Now, I want you to count," Yoongi growled, hand squeezing you roughly before sliding your panties and thigh highs off to fully uncover your ass and thighs.

"Yes, daddy.” The anticipation, though brief, made your heart race.

"This is for ignoring my messages.”

Smack. "One."

“This one is for ignoring me in person.”

Smack. "T-two."

”This is for lying to me."

Smack. "Three."

"This is for thinking you're not attractive enough for me."

Smack. "Four."

"This is for even considering that I might find you boring."

Smack. "F-five."

“Look at you,” Yoongi’s fingers suddenly ceased their kneading and drifted to your drenched pussy, “You’re fucking soaked, and you’re only halfway though your punishment.” His finger slid inside you fleetingly before sliding back out. Your back arched in search of contact - something, anything.

“This is for not saying you wanted my mark sooner."

Smack. “Si-ix.”

“Actually, kitten, I’m going to give you two for that one.”

Smack. “Mm, seven.” The heat from his smacks was spreading from your ass to your pussy, settling low in your belly.

”This is for mentioning that prick Sehyun."

Smack. "You don't even know h-" Smack. Smack.

“E-eight!”

"This is for being a brat and not coming to me with your issues."

Smack. “Nine.”

“This is for fucking dripping all over my jeans despite the fact that this was supposed to be a punishment.”

Smack. “Ten.”

You laid slack in his lap for a bit, pliant under his kneading hands.

“You did so well, kitten.” Yoongi cradled you in his arms, pulling you into an upright position before laying you down on the bed with your legs hanging off the side. “I’m going to fuck you so hard…” He groaned, burying his face against your breasts, lips seeking. “But first, I think you need a little reward after taking that punishment so well.”

You arched, needing his mouth.

“Let’s get these clothes off of you.” He pulled your dress over your head before quickly unhooking your bra from behind your back.

“Goddamn, you really do have the prettiest fucking nipples I’ve ever seen, kitten. I always wonder if I could make you cum just by sucking them. I bet I can…”

Your mind grew hazy when he finally turned his head and took one of your nipples between his lips, dragging his tongue over the sensitive bud. He sucked it into his mouth with a groan, and you couldn’t help but moan, “Yes, daddy!” Your body felt like it was burning; but, still, you wanted more.

He turned to your other nipple and muttered, “You taste so sweet, (y/n)...” Yoongi worshipped your other nipple with his mouth, his tongue, and even the slightest bite of teeth. After finally leaving that one as aching as the other, he pulled back to face you.

“Kitten, you’re so fucking sexy.” He hovered over you, taking his time kissing down your stomach, leaving marks in his wake. Intentionally skipping the place you need him most, Yoongi trailed kisses on the insides of your thighs. Finally, he was poised over the seam of your pussy.

“This,” his breath caressed your slit, “Belongs to me.” You squirmed, anxious with anticipation.

“Say it,” Yoongi growled, slapping your pussy lightly, “Say that this pretty pussy is all mine.”

“It’s yours. God, Yoongi, it’s yours. Please, daddy.” Your pleas burst from your mouth in an embarrassingly whiny tone.

And then it happened in a blink. His mouth was on you. His hot tongue swiped over your clit before drawing it into his mouth and sucking it.

As he devoured you, a growl sounded from his chest; and, the idea of finally, finally inspiring that kind of lust turned you on so fucking much.

“D-daddy, I’m going to c-come!” You were already coming undone with each skilled swipe of his tongue.

Yoongi pulled back. Honestly, you really should have seen that coming.

(Or should have seen yourself not coming for that matter.)

Before you could even attempt to slide your own hand down to where you needed it most, Yoongi pulled you up towards him. Your legs shook as you tried to find your balance, but he was too impatient for that evidently.

Yoongi picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his slim waist.

Stumbling, you both crashed into the wall. His hips pressed firmly into yours, wanting you to feel him.

He rested his forehead against yours, and, breathing heavily, he said, "I can't believe you thought for one second that I didn't find you attractive." His hips ground into yours. You felt his hardness, his heat, his desire for you. "Does this feel like I'm not attracted to you, kitten? Can’t you tell how hard I am for you? Fuck, you just had me on my knees, facedown in your pussy... Don’t you know that you fucking own me?"

"Y-yoongi," You gasped for air, breathless from his admissions and his actions, "I know it now. You fucking own me, too."

His lips turned up at the corners before slamming down onto yours, kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped. Your hand twined around his neck, lacing your fingers through the short strands of his hair and kissing him back with equal vigor.

He tasted so fucking good, like soju and strawberries. You sucked on his tongue, and he groaned. Yoongi’s fingers dug even deeper into the sensitive flesh of your upper thighs.

“Need to fuck you now,” He muttered into your mouth.

"You're gonna have to strip for that to happen, daddy,” You said, smirking as he set you down.

Smack. “I should have known you were a fucking brat,” he laughed.

You pouted in response as you watched your hot-as-sin boyfriend make quick work of his clothes. Your eyes drifted over the lean muscles of his body before settling on the hard length of his cock. What you wouldn’t give to take him in your mouth right now…

“No time for that,” Yoongi chuckled, noticing your attention and catching onto your train of thought, “Now be a good girl and bend over the bed.”

Well, since he asked so nicely.

You complied, bending over with a mix of excitement and arousal bubbling in your stomach. You could feel Yoongi standing over you. He snaked one hand around your body to thumb one of your nipples. His other hand ventured lower, and one of his fingers pumped inside your pussy.

He pinched your nipple. “Fuck, kitten, you’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Please, daddy. Please fuck me.” You groaned, arching into his finger as he pumped it in and out of you. “I need your cock.”

“Yeah? You want daddy’s cock?” Yoongi’s finger disappeared. In its place, you felt the crown of his cock slowly stroking your folds. “Then, you’ll get it.”

He slid into you with a deep groan, his hand twining into your hair. He was so hard; his arousal only made you needier. He slowly began to slide in and out.You moved your hips to match his, wanting to feel his full-length reach deep inside you with every stroke.

His thrusts became faster and harder. “Good girl.” You could feel his gaze fixed between your legs. “I see you taking me.”

Still gripping your hair, Yoongi pulled out and slammed back in, giving everything into each thrust and rocking you against the bed.

You buried your head into the duvet to muffle your moans. It took every muscle in you not to come.

"Fuck, (y/n),“ He groaned as he plunged into you. You backed up into him, trying to get him even deeper inside you. He lifted you onto all fours and the resulting angle was divine.

Your body started shaking. Subconsciously, one of your hands shimmied down your body to touch your clit, needing that final push.

Apparently, not on Yoongi’s watch.

He pulled one hand away from its grip on your hip and set it back down with a smack. Your right ass cheek stung fiercely. “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, kitten,” Yoongi growled, “That’s my job.”

And, with that, Yoongi pinched your clit and slammed into you. That was all it took to push you over the edge. “Ah, Yoongi!” You screamed into the comforter of the bed in hopes that it might muffle your exclamation.

“That’s right, kitten, milk daddy’s cock. Fuck yes,” Yoongi continued to pound into you through your own orgasm. His moans got louder as his thrusts grew sloppier until his hot cum poured into you.

Breathing heavily, he collapsed on top of you briefly before pulling out and falling to your side. You both continued to pant in your collapsed positions on the bed. You could hardly move.

You turned your head to the side to look at your boyfriend. His eyes were hooded, his hair a mess. “Round two?” You suggested with a smile.

Yoongi’s gummy smile made a brief appearance, “You’re going to kill me, (y/n).”

“No,” Jin’s voice came from the doorway, “I’m going to kill you both.”

You and Yoongi screamed as you scrambled to pull the comforter over your naked bodies.

“I can’t believe this,” the birthday boy continued, “You fucked in my room? In my bed? On my birthday? And I didn’t even get an invite?” His eyes were twitching murderously. “I’m the one who’s supposed to have birthday sex! Me, you peasants, me!”

You shot Yoongi a speculative look as Jin continued to rant.

“Really?” Your boyfriend groaned at your unspoken question, “Right now?”

“It’s his birthday!” You hissed, “Besides, I did show up without a present…”

Yoongi pondered it, “Fine, but I am so punishing you for this later. Fucking hell, how many more kinks do you have that I don’t know about?”

As Yoongi trailed off, muttering about masochism and threesomes, you stood. Clutching the blanket to your body, you walked over to where Jin had finally quieted down.

The boy eyed you suspiciously, “What?”

“You said you wanted an invite, Kim.” You dropped the blanket, “Consider the invitation sent.”

a/n: big yikes on how this turned out skskskss hope you liked it anyway despite the chaotic-ness that is this fic

#bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #hyunglinenetwork #180knet #kwritersworldnet #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi #smut #bts #bts smut #bts fic #myg

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