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notsoverymerry · 2 days

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Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were.

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable.

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly.

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules.

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone.

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games.

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse.

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out.

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one.

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention.

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter.

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen.

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side.

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you.

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions.

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug.

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths.

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face.

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were.

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became.

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew.

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there.

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck.

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts?

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face.

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same.

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise.

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste.

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off.

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin.

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim.

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine.

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders.

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids.

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.''

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically.

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right.

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to.

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out.

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.''

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up.

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little.

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.''

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!''

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.''

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too.

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #fanfic #smut #x reader #fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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tiredofthehumanlife · 30 days

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Damn you Brisket Five

Barbie dolls:five hargreeves x gn! Reader

Word: 4.1k

Summary: you and five (also Diego) get into an argument and he leaves you in the subway to cool off ha makes you promise not to get in the train what happens next will shock you

Warnings: mentions of killing, set in s4 minus the cheating, you're in the wrong but are extremely hard headed and kinda mean to Five and Diego, you try to punch Diego, you're picked up by Luther, brisket Five is a flirty dick, you eat a sandwich that reminds you of your grandmas and I described a slight "memory" so it might not match with anything you've experienced, one or two sex jokes I think but I idk, it's unclear where you are in the plot but it's not all that important, one mention of vomiting and stomach uneasy, Five's a little jelly

Inspired by: this and this

You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. Allison pointed at you in agreement, looking around your circle as you all argued.

“This is stupid; why can’t we go back in time and kill Jennifer? I’m sure she’s a sweet girl but we’re talking about the universe right now,” you said, looking around at the faces staring at you. Luther shook his head at you. Diego made a grimace, looking away from you entirely. Allison scrunched her nose. Lila flashed her teeth like an upset dog, staring down at her hands. Klaus snorted, somehow finding a joke in this. You look over at Five to find him pinching his brow.

“We are not doing that because that’s what the Commission would do. That’s not who we are.” Five said, agitation scaping at the sound of his words. You hummed.

”Well what’s your idea, genius?” You asked, getting tired of them pretending like they were picking out an ice cream flavor. Five looked up at you with furrowed brows.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He said, rubbing his lips together like it left a sour taste in his mouth. You rolled your eyes at him, looking around the group. Viktor held his finger up.

“I have an idea.” Everyone's eyes turned to him. “What if I just absorb all the marigold into my body and then get absorbed by The Durango?” You shook your head.

“No absolutely not.” You said, staring at Viktor to make sure he felt the sincerity in your voice. Luther scoffed.

“So you’re down to kill Jennifer but not Viktor?” Diego said, crossing his arms over his chest. You reeled back, looking at him to see if that really came from his mouth.

“Are you for real?” Diego gave a short nod. “Man fuck you.” You said before lunging at him. Diego pulled back, shocked at your sudden movement. Luther pulled you away, flinging you over his shoulder. He took three steps away from Diego so you couldn’t reach him even if you wanted to. You smacked Luther on his back while trying to wiggle out of his arms.

“Five control your partner,” Diego muttered. It sparked a few mummers of disagreement. Klaus grimaced at Diego. Allison reached over and smacked the back of Diego's head while Viktor whispered an ew. Five scoffed.

“Luther, put me down. Let me at him.” You whispered to Luther. Luther patted the back of your calf.

“No can do; you’re staying up there until you calm down.” You sighed at Luther’s words, giving up on getting out of shoulder jail anytime soon.

“Guys, what if we just all sacrifice ourselves to the Durango thingie?” Klaus asked, earning a unanimous no. You slumped against Luther, wishing he would just put you down already.

"Luther, turn around so I’m facing the group, would you?” Luther nodded, turning around so his back was facing the circle. You pressed your arms into his back, holding yourself up so you could make eye contact.

“What if we go back to where we had dinner all those days ago, use Five’s funky train? We go back to before Ben did his shenanigans; stop him; we don’t have this problem anymore.” You said, looking around the group to gain their reactions. Viktor raised an eyebrow, looking at Allison. Allison bit into her knuckle, staring at the floor to think it over. Five squinted his eyes at you. Diego started whispering to Lila. Klaus looked over to Five.

“That’s a possibility,” Diego said. Five shrugged.

“If Lila mimicked my power, we could most definitely get you all down there.” Five muttered. Luther gently set you down, turning back around to face the group. You straightened your clothes. You stood next to Five instead of Luther, still upset he basically put you in time out.

“Is that our plan?” Viktor asked. The group murmured different versions of yes. You glared at Diego.

“We have to stop home first, we can’t miss dinner with my family,” Lila said, glancing at Diego. You nodded, following after the rest of the group. You stopped by Diego, glaring at him.

“I really wanted to deck you. Still do.” You whispered. Five appeared next to you, grabbing your shoulder and steering you away.

“Remember who drives you around!” Diego yelled after you as Five directed you out of the house. You watched as he pulled you away from the group heading to the van, off to the side. You squinted at him.

“Just because I supported your idea does not mean I’m not still upset with you.” Five said, keeping his tone low. You furrowed your eyebrows. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing over at the van to see most of his family pressed to the window watching you two intently.

“Why are you upset?” You asked not understanding where this was coming from. Five sighed, reaching out towards you. His hands hovered over your elbows in an attempt to soothe you.

“It hurt me when you spoke to me like that. You were talking like we aren’t equals. I didn’t like that you suggested that we kill Jennifer. I didn’t like how you treated Diego back there. I understand you’re annoyed and frustrated, a little hard-headed, but I still think you should be respectful to the people around you.” Five said, holding up a finger after each item he listed. You pulled back.

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the man who is regularly calling people names, and making insults? You’re the sarcastic pain in the ass.” You pointed at him. Five glanced at Diego and Lila joining the others in the car, pausing your conversation-argument so they didn’t hear.

“That’s different. I’m not blatanly trying to punch them.” Five pointed at Diego in the car like he was worried you’d forget. You scoffed.

“Oh, that’s rich.” You muttered. Five flung his hands out.

“How, tell me. How.” Five asked, getting more and more annoyed.

“You’re acting like I’m the worst person ever to swing on someone but need I remind you of your past job?” Five’s face fell before pulling into a grimace. He pointed his finger at you.

“I told you I didn’t enjoy the killing. Need I also remind you that you worked there as well?” Five asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You felt your heart beat faster as your anger grew.

“I never picked up a gun, you dickhead. I did paperwork.” You said, leaning closer, so he could feel the anger vibrating off your body. Five scoffed.

“You’re acting like you’re so much better than me, you ordered who got killed. You didn’t pull the trigger but you aimed. You’re just as much of a lowlife as I am.” Five held his arms out in a T-pose like he was saying, ‘This is it.’ You uncrossed your arms, holding them out to your sides. Five turned his back to you, facing the sky instead.

“That’s not what I said; this is just like what happened on the Kanas case.” You said, pointing in the direction of the van even though you weren’t sure if Kansas was that way. Five spun back around towards you, his jaw slack.

“You did not just bring up Kansas.” Five said in disbelief, staring at you. You nodded.

“I brought up Kansas.”

“Oh my- You and I both know that was not my fault. I thought we were past this?” Five said, grimacing at you. You shook your head, throwing your hands up.

“You never apologized.” You said, rolling your eyes. Five scoffed.

“Why would I apologize? It. Wasn’t. My. Fault.” You shook your head at Five. He huffed, spinning around again. You scoffed at him.

“You did the same thing there; you were acting like I was a horrible person. You started the argument. You almost got us killed, how is that not your fault?” Five groaned.

“Hey.. uh... you guys coming or what?” You heard Viktor yell from the van’s window. You and Five’s heads spun towards the van.

“Not now.” You both yelled at the same time, making Viktor turn the handle on the door as fast as he could to roll up the window. You and Five watched in silence as Viktor tried harder and harder to go faster. By the time it was closed, you two had taken a few breaths. You felt less radioactive but still pissed. Five sighed, looking up at you from staring at the ground.

“I think we both need to cool down.” Five muttered, reaching out for your hand. You grumbled before dropping your hand in his. It was seconds before you felt the sickness that came with Five’s jumps. You pulled away from him, finding yourself in his stupid subway.

“Damnit, Five. You know I hate that. I going to hurl.” You doubled over, supporting yourself with your hands on your knees. You took deep breaths while staring at the floor. You shrugged off Five’s hand when he tried to comfort you with a light back rub. You stood up straight when you felt your stomach settle. Five let out a sigh of relief.

“We both need to cool off, separate from each other. An hour or two tops. You can stay here, break shit. I really don’t care just do not get on the train. Okay? You have to promise me you won’t get on the train.” Five said, staring at you. You glanced over at where the train would be. “promise?” Five added when you were silent.

“Yeah, I won’t go on the train.” Five nodded before he blinked out again. You sighed, slumping onto the bench nearby. Maybe you should break shit. That vending machine was looking a little appetizing right now. You looked up at the loud sounds of the train screeching into your station. The train doors slid open, showing the very inviting subway seats that definitely wouldn’t hurt at all. You glanced over at where Five was standing. He technically wasn’t here. He did say it would be a few hours before he got back. Nothing was really stopping you from going inside. You didn’t even say ‘I promise’. So, does it count? You stood up from the bench, stepped onto the train, and settled into the seat across from the door.

The train lurched forward, making you glance around. You expected the train ride to be very short, only a few minutes, but you couldn’t fully get a feel for how long it had been. You got bored after a while deciding to find something to climb on. After failing to hang upside down four times, you got bored of that too. You laid across the seats on your back, closing your eyes to take a nap. Then the train stopped. You peeked an eye open, glancing around for monsters before sitting up. You stared at the door as it slid open.

Then, what you least expected, you saw Five. In his suit too. He walked past the open door before stopping at the window next to it. He backpeddled, staring at you with a confused face. Just as you were about to defend your case, he started running. away. His fancy shoes clicked on the floor as he ran. You stood up, chasing after him.

“Hey, man. I know the argument was kinda rough, but it wasn’t that bad.” You yelled after him. Five glanced over his shoulder, picking up his pace. He skidded around the corner, almost tripping on the way. You reached the same corner after a few seconds, stopping in the middle of the hallway. In the middle of the subway station was a diner. ‘Max’s Delicatessen’ over the door in big bold letters.

You picked up your pace, walking to the door and swinging it open. You stepped inside, ignoring the bell on the door. You stopped when you saw what was inside. There was one Five, out of breath and leaning on one of the tables. Probably the one you chased. Then every other customer and worker here was Five. They all turned around, pausing what they were doing to stare harder. You held your breath before spinning back around for the door.

“Oh no. Stay. Please?” You heard Five’s voice. It had already said no to him. You turned back around, not sure which Five spoke to you. One of them stood up from his seat, almost knocking over his coffee.

“How did you get here without your Five?” The standing one asked. You pointed behind you.

“Train.” You heard a few Fives snort, which you thought was odd because FIve liked to pretend he hated your pain-in-the-ass-ness. The Five you chased after, turned around to face you.

“Where’s your Five? Did he die?” He asked. You heard the Five next to him mutter something about being gentle.

“No, well, not right now. He hasn’t. He’s probably pouting in the car right now.” You said, stepping further into the restaurant. A Five sitting in the booth closest to the door gestured for you to join him. You sat down in the booth, still looking around at all the Fives.

“Pouting?” the runner Five asked. You nodded.

“We go into a fight, a stupid one might I add. He told me to cool off here in the subway. So he’s probably pouting right now.” The closest Fives around you hummed.

“Did you bring up Kansas?” The Five across from you asked. You rolled your eyes.

“Listen, he was being all picky about how I had to talk to people while arguing over how we should stop the world from ending. It’s ridiculous.” The Five across from you sighed. He reached across the table, holding onto your hand. He stared into your eyes.

“I have really bad news for you, you were a little out of line. Most of us have had the same or similar argument, and every version of you was just a little out of line. It’s nothing against you.” The Five across from you said. Runner Five slid into the seat next to the one holding your hand.

“When we figure out what to do with our apocalypse, we have to be respectful to everyone else. If we hurt any of our bonds it could cost us the world.” The runner Five said. You nodded, staring down at the table.

“Diego told my Five to ‘get me under control’ and he was all like judging me because I said we should just kill Jennifer-“ You heard the Fives around you hiss, covering their mouths with their hands. “Which isn’t the best idea but we don’t have a lot of options here.”

“That probably freaked out your Five. We want to have entirely different morals than the Commission did. Diego was out of line with those comments but I don’t know if you should’ve swung on him.” The Five holding your hand said.

“Well, I don’t know how to get back and apologize. I fully went on the train to spite Five.” You said, slumping in your seat. The Five holding your hand, ran his thumb over the top, comforting you just slightly.

“You don’t need to worry about getting back. Anytime now, your Five will come through that door and whisk you away back home.” The Five across from you said, before dropping your hand to pick up his coffee instead.

“In the meantime, Brisket Five here will make you a sandwich.” The Runner Five said, pointing at the Five standing behind the counter with an apron on. Brisket Five waved at you, before sending a wink in your direction. You felt your face warm, looking away from him to instead look at the table. A few minutes later, of you making small talk about different aspects of your life with the two Fives in front of you, Brisket Five came to stand next to you with a plate. He set it down on the table before leaning over the table to smile at you.

“It’s your favorite.” He muttered, making the other two Fives groan. You glanced down at it. It just looked like a regular sandwich with toasted bread to you.

“My favorite from where?” You asked, keeping your hands in your lap. Brisket FIve grinned at you, pushing the plate just a smidge closer to you.

“From your childhood. The sandwich your grandma made for you after a long day of playing in the sprinklers.” He said. You stared down at the sandwich, wondering if he was fucking with you. ”Try it.” You glared up Brisket FIve. He should know that you hate taking any orders from Five. He tilted his head down, staring up at you with blown-wide puppy eyes. ”Please.” he whispered.

Even the Fives from other universes knew you were weak for the puppy eyes. You sighed before picking up the sandwich. You held it steady in front of your face, still not so sure about it. You glanced at Brisket Five once more before taking a bite. You paused when you truly felt yourself transported back to your Grandma’s house.

You could feel her warm blue towel wrapped around your shoulders while your wet swimsuit was still sticking to you. You could hear her muttering about your grandfather leaving food in the oven. You could feel how the table was just a little too big for you, having to lean forward to reach over the edge. You could hear the ticking of her clock.

“I thought you were messing with me.” You muttered, looking up at Brisket Five. He puffed his chest out just a little more. He stood up straight, brushing off his apron.

“You should trust me more often, my love. I’m more than just a pretty face.” Brisket five said, placing his hands on his hips and shrugging. You glanced over at the other two Fives at your table, both glaring at Brisket Five.

“Fuck you, Brisket Five.” The runner FIve said.

“You should know their Five is still alive, you should cut back on the flirting.” The Five across from you said. You glanced at Brisket Five out of the corner of your eye before looking back to the other two.

“Off topic but who’s Max?” You asked before taking another bite of the sandwich.

“I am!” Someone yelled back behind the counter. You glanced over to see another Five raising his hand. You looked back at the Fives you had already met, confused more than when you found out there were more than two Fives.

“We are. Dickhead.” Brisket Five yelled back. Max frowned at Brisket Five.

“Get back to work, Brisket Five,” Five-Max said, before moving back behind the counter. Brisket FIve turned back around to face you. He winked at you again. He reached out and tapped your cheek with his pointer knuckle, giving you an odd sense of deja vu.

“Talk to you later.” He muttered before walking away to the counter. You shrugged, looking back at your sandwich.

“What. A. Dick.” Runner Five said. You hummed. Across-from-you Five grumbled while staring at Brisket Five’s back.

“Makes a damn good sandwich, though.” You added, sinking your teeth in again. You groaned at how good it tasted. You tossed your head back, staring at the ceiling. You heard the bell above the door ring. You turned around, looking at the door to see who it was.

In all his glory, was yet another Five. You squinted at him, raising an eyebrow. He caught eyes with you; he pressed his lips together and tilted his head in a ‘you really did this’ manner. You gasped, setting your sandwich down. You threw your arms up in the air.

“Five! Darling, I missed you.” You said, smiling brightly at him. A few heads turned back to see which Five you were talking to. Your Five walked over towards your table, sliding into the seat next to you. His hand inched for yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Thought you promised not to use the subway?” He asked, giving you a knowing smile. You tutted, shaking your head.

“I never said ‘I promise’. I just said I wouldn't which makes it a fib and not a broken promise.” You said, defending your case perfectly. Five nodded, and he leaned forward. He pecked your lips. Five lingered for a few seconds, his apology pressed between each other's lips. He pulled back and sighed.

“I’m sorry for being so dickhead-ish.” He muttered, knocking his nose against yours. You pulled back, shaking your head.

“No, you don't have anything to apologize for; I was the one being all dickhead-ish. I shouldn't have called you that anyway. I'm sorry. I should've treated you better.” You said, grabbing his other hand to hold as well. Five hummed.

“And Diego?” You scrunched your nose. Five raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I guess him, too. I’ll apologize later.” You turned back to your sandwich, taking another bite.

“And what about Kansas?” Five asked. You made a sad face, making quick work of the bite in your mouth.

“I shouldn't have brought up Kansas because we both know it's a sore spot for the both of us.” You said with a monotone voice, sounding like a tired robot.

“That was nice to hear.” Five said before knocking your cheek with his knuckle. You got flashbacks to seconds before when Brisket Five left back towards the counter.

“Oh, by the way, Brisket Five was flirting with me.” You said before taking another bite. Your Five stared at the side of your face in shock. He glanced over at the other two Fives at your table. They both nodded while you kept your focus on your sandwich. Five leaned over the edge of the seat to look over your head at Brisket Five.

“What. A. Dick.” Five muttered. You nodded.

“That's what I said.” Runner Five said, pointing at Your Five. You set down your sandwich, looking over at Five.

“Do we have to go now?” You asked, giving him your best version of his puppy eyes. Five shook his head.

“You can finish your sandwich and then we can worry about the end of the world.” Five said, kissing your cheek. Yousmiled and focused on your sandwich again. Five rubbed your knee and started a conversation with the other two Fives. By the time you had finished, Brisket Five came back to take the plate away. He sent you a grin and wink. Five reached over and covered your eyes with his hands.

“Go away, Brisket Five.” Runner Five said. After that you said goodbye to all the other Fives, telling them you'll be back real soon. Your Five held your hand, gently tugging you towards the door. Just as you were about to get out the door, Brisket Five appeared next to you. He held out a ball of foil that looked suspiciously similar to a sandwich.

“It’s another sandwich, cause I know you loved it so much.” Brisket Five said. You took it out of his hands, cradling it to your chest.

“Thank you, Brisket Five.” You whispered. Your Five stood behind you, pressing his hands into your back, and gently pushing you towards the door.

“Yeah. Thanks, Brisket Five.” Five repeated from behind you. You two were out the door in no time, Five leading you towards the train by your hand. As you waited for the train to pull in, you hooked your elbow with Five’s. You leaned up to his ear, kissing the apple of his cheek. You pulled back at the screeching of the train pulling in. You walked into the train car with Five, sitting down next to each other. He dropped his head onto your shoulder as the train pulled away. You rested your chin on top of his head.

“I love you.” He whispered under his breath. You weren’t entirely positive that he wouldn’t fall asleep on the ride home. You dropped a kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you.” You hummed against his hair in response.

“More than Brisket Five?” Five asked. You glanced down at the sandwich in your lap.

“Have you thought about making sandwiches before?” You muttered. Five scoffed, reaching for the sandwich. You held it away from him, tapping his nose in a reprimanding manner. Five humphed.

“I’m going to kill Brisket Five.” Five whispered into your shoulder. You almost laughed at the feeling.

“Just keep his apron, it was kind of hot.” Five grumbled at your words. You gave him another kiss on his head so he was reminded that you were just joking. You thought about how you were going to apologize to Diego with words on the ride home. Diego apologized as well, bringing you a large plate of Lila’s family’s delicious food as an apology. Which you took very happily.

#five x reader #number five #tua five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #max hargeeves #max hargreeves x reader #tua #tua s4 #tua season 4 #tua spoilers #tua4

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caelivir · 4 months

Text

haze | suna rintarou

synopsis. on nights when you doubt yourself, suna rintarou reminds you who you are.

pairing. suna rintarou x fem!reader | wc. 2.6k | genres. timeskip!suna, fwb!suna, late night convos, insecurity, comfort | warnings. sex mentioned/implied, alcohol consumption on reader’s part and a little bit on suna’s

notes. i will be linking threads from twitter that contain ongoing fundraisers for palestine, sudan, congo, and many more. donate, and if you can’t, share the hell out of it. keep in mind these links are just one of many. please continue to look out for them, continue to educate yourself, continue to spread awareness, and continue to boycott. remember, our voices matter. we have to amplify our voices for the people who can’t. the hell these people are living through cannot end if nothing is done to pressure our governments and their oppressors.

one two three four five

on the nights you can’t sleep, everything hits you. failed relationships. bad decisions. thoughts of the unknown. it all piles on top of your mind until it crushes you. such worries make the room feel suffocating, like the air was suddenly stripped out of it. it makes your throat dry up and your skin itch. sitting in such a feeling drives you insane, and as much as you’d like to stay curled up under the covers to hide, you know that you have to find a way to breathe.

carefully, and without making any drastic movements, you slip out of bed. the cold air hits your naked body, sending shivers down your spine. you find your panties somewhere on the floor and slip them on. you pull the first shirt that you see over your head, and judging by its scent, you assume it to be sunarin’s.

at the thought of him, you fix your gaze onto his side of the bed. with your presence gone, sunarin’s face is illuminated by the moonlight that shines through his curtains. your heart jumps at the sight of him.

sunarin has always been beautiful. even a fool could acknowledge that fact. but it’s moments like these where you swear that he is unparalleled to any guy you’ve ever met.

you watch as his chest rises and falls with steady breaths. he has one arm folded under his head, acting as another pillow. the blankets you share cover him from the waist down, providing you with a partial view of his well-toned body and the marks you left on him. strands of his dark-brown, nearly black hair fall over his forehead.

seeing him so peaceful brings a ghost of a smile onto your face, but it falls just as quickly. you chew your bottom lip, opting to leave the bedroom. you carefully close the door behind you so that you don’t wake up suna.

you wander into his kitchen and open his fridge. to your surprise, there’s a selection of white claws sitting on the bottom rack. sunarin is not much of an individual drinker. he’d rather enjoy it with the company of his friends. the alcohol he does have in his possession are much more potent than a hard seltzer, which isn’t what you’re really looking for. you need balance. you need something that will calm you without you having to wake up to a throbbing head in the morning. hard seltzers are what you look for in those times.

you wonder what he got them for, but you shake that thought off quickly. it’s not your business. you pull the first can you see out of its place before nudging the fridge shut with your foot.

in sunarin’s apartment, a balcony is connected to the living room, separated by a glass door. in need of fresh air, you slide it open. the balcony itself isn’t anything grand. it’s spacious enough, but suna doesn’t care to decorate it lavishly. he says there’s no point. so all there is are two wooden chairs with a tiny, circular table separating them.

you pull out the chair on the right and face it towards the railing. you seat yourself on it before cracking open the white claw before taking a sip. the alcohol part of it tastes funky but it’s bearable with the help of what you realize to be raspberry.

you take a long inhale. the cold air fills your lungs and nips at your insides, but it feels good. you stare at the night sky, counting the stars and admiring the moon that shines above you. below you, you spot two buddies supporting each other, barely able to hold the other up because of the drunken stares of their bodies. you take a swig of your drink. you catch lights from inside buildings flicker on then off, a reminder that life exists everywhere.

for a while, it distracts you. it keeps your mind at bay from the pending worries that are waiting to pounce at you. there’s only so many things you can count until you get bored. the view from sunarin’s balcony is nothing special after all.

but who are you to complain anyway? sunarin has much more in his life to make up for it. he’s got the money to see better views. he’s got a career he loves, an olympic medal, and adoring fans. sunarin’s got it all. he’s got a life one could only dream about.

your life isn’t shitty at all, but it’s nothing spectacular like suna’s. it’s perfectly average. and now that you think about it, why did he settle in an arrangement with someone as plain as you?

before you can ponder that answer, the glass door slides open. you don’t bother looking back. it’s obvious who it is; there’s only one other person in the apartment. the second wooden chair scraps against the floor as suna moves it back. you stare ahead as he effortlessly lifts the circular table and places it on the side. with one arm, he picks up the wooden chair, setting it down next to yours.

his bare arm grazes you as he sits, and you just now realize that he’s still shirtless. you eye suna, and even in his barely awake state, he’s worth ogling over. his black sweatpants sit snugly on his legs, hanging a tad bit low. without the blanket, you’re granted full access to the muscles that your middle blocker friend has spent years honing. light catches around sunarin’s neck, and you register it to be the silver chain that you bought for his birthday. god, you wish you had your phone. his fans would start frothing if they saw him like this.

“bit cold out, no?” you finally catch his eyes, half open but focused on you.

“you’ve got my shirt, babe.” sunarin’s voice is still sleep-ridden, raspy even. “plus, you’re not even wearing pants.”

you look down. he got you. “fair enough.”

there’s a brief silence before you’re speaking again. “what happened? why are you awake?”

“bed was cold.” sunarin responds, and something about the response tugs at your heartstrings, but you ignore it nonetheless and sunarin doesn’t expand on it. “what are you doing out here?”

“thinking.” you say simply.

“about what?”

“you.”

it’s easy to spot that he wasn’t expecting that. sunarin’s eyes widen, and suddenly his brain wakes up. in typical suna fashion, he wipes his shock off, replacing it with an amused smirk. “i’m flattered, babe.”

you hum, opting for another downing of the seltzer. the middle blocker’s fox eyes follow the movements. “i see you’ve found them.”

“huh?” you glance at your hand. “oh. yeah.”

“let me taste it. i’ve never tried them before.” sunarin sticks his hand toward you. you raise an eyebrow but still comply.

the olympian takes a quick swig, pondering the taste on his tongue. he makes a soft noise of satisfaction before handing the can back to you. “it’s not bad.”

“what’d you buy them for?” you question. at least, you can get an answer now.

“they’re for you.” he answers, nodding his head toward you.

you chuckle emptily. “what?”

suna shrugs. “i’ve noticed. you’re the type who wants a drink after sex, but you don’t want anything ridiculously strong, but you’re also not satisfied with the juices i have in the fridge either. so i thought, why not meet in the middle?”

“you noticed that?”

sunarin furrows his eyebrows as if he didn’t understand why it’s so surprising. “‘course i did.”

“you don’t have to, y’know?” you whisper, suddenly feeling small.

“but i want to.” sunarin holds your gaze. it makes your heart pound a bit harder. “it’ll stop you from leaving.” he continues after a moment.

“what do you mean?”

suna clamps his lips shut as if he isn’t sure if he should reveal the reason to you, yet he does anyway. “it’s… weird… when you go. and yeah, you say that you’ll come back, but it feels… lonely in the minutes that you’re gone, and i don’t like it. but now that i think about it, i really should have gone with you. why the fuck did i allow you to leave alone?”

you shrug. “it’s okay. the convenience store is just around the corner. there’s cameras everywhere. i’m still here.”

“i know that.” suna sighs, slumping in his chair with a pout. “i know but still. either way, i just don’t want you going anymore. i feel more secure when i know you’re near.”

“oh.” you breathe out, feeling your blood heat up at those words. “thanks, sunarin.”

the middle blocker’s face scrunches up. “why do you still call me that? i’ve literally been inside you. you can call me rin. it’s fine.”

you roll your eyes at the joke, but the question weighs on you. you purse your lips together in thought. “it doesn’t feel right.”

“why wouldn’t it be?” suna adjusts his position, throwing his arm around your chair. his fingers hang down, barely touching your upper arm, and he’s trained solely on you.

“i mean,” you pause to gather your line of reasoning. “rin feels a lot more intimate.”

“and we’re not already?” sunarin smirks, but it only makes you sigh.

“no. fuck, how do i say it?” you point your gaze upward, poking the inside of your cheek as you think. suna lightly traces patterns on your arm while he waits, his grayish eyes never leaving your face. “it’s a lot more special, like it should be reserved for the people who really mean something to you.”

sunarin’s eyebrows furrow when he catches onto the implication. “are you saying you don’t think you mean anything to me?”

you shrug, beginning to chew on your lower lip. your leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down. you swirl the contents of your white claw in the can before gulping more of it down. “i don’t know.” the line of formality and informality blurs and confuses you.

“(y/n). i’ve known you since high school.” sunarin reminds you.

“that doesn’t change anything.” you shake your head. “we didn’t reconnect until the twins’ birthday party six months ago.”

that seems to silence the olympian because he knows you’re right, and you let it run for minutes until your mind is gnawing at you, asking you to at least figure out where you stand with suna. “why me of all people, sunarin?”

“what?”

you gesture to the two of you. “this. our arrangement. why’d you choose me?”

“because.”

“because what? i mean, think about it,” you paint the picture for him. “models. idols. actresses. rich girls. you could have anyone you want.”

“sure, but none of them are you.” suna replies earnestly. you know he is, but a part of you is still not sold.

“but how could i possibly be better than them?” you press.

“because i trust you, (y/n). i trust you a lot more than i could ever trust them.” sunarin snaps back, causing you to blink at the outburst. he catches his tone, apologizes, and relaxes. he draws back the arm that was wrapped around your chair. “the spotlight has its perks, but it has its downsides too. it’s the same for anyone remotely famous. you have to keep your guard up at all times. if they find something to drag you for, it can ruin you and the career you’ve worked so hard to build.”

and when you don’t respond, suna ventures off into a different story. “did you know that you were the second person i consulted with about turning pro?”

“second?” you tilt your head, interested to see where this is heading.

“mhm.” he hums. “after kita, of course.”

“why?” you whisper. that seems to be the question of the night. why? why? why?

“you’re the realest person i’ve met, and the easiest to be around,” suna answers simply. “you’re reliable and honest, which is why i knew i could trust you to help me make a life-changing decision. you helped bring me into the place i am today all because you gave me a space where i could be insecure and vulnerable. i don’t need to keep my guard up when i’m around you. i can be me without any worry. you make me feel safe, (y/n). that’s why i chose you.” the middle blocker emphasizes.

you don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the beauty of sunarin’s words, or maybe a combination of both, but you tears begin to well in your eyes.

suna frowns. his fingers instinctively reach to brush off the tears that cascade down your face. “hey, shh. it’s okay. don’t cry. it’s killing me, doll.” he whispers.

sunarin caresses your face with his large, somehow soft hand. the sight of you in this state makes his heart pound and his breath hitch. your glassy eyes catch every ray of light and the moonlight emphasize your beauty in ways that he never thought possible. you are a goddess bathed in light.

“you are so beautiful.” suna whispers before he’s pressing his lips to yours.

you reciprocate it instantly, eyes fluttering shut. two loose tears breach past, sliding down your face until they meet the corners of your lips. it mixes with the raspberry alcohol on your tongue, making the shared kiss between you and suna a flavor of bittersweet and salty, but neither of you care.

before, in moments of naked intimacy, kisses with suna were hot, desperate even. they made your body weak and took away your mind’s ability to function as his mouth dominated yours. it’s a result of the chemicals in your brain chasing a high.

this kiss is different. it’s a sensation better than anything you’ve ever felt before. it’s a combination of stars forming, tidal waves crashing, and butterflies flapping their wings at mach speed. this kiss makes you feel alive. you’re hyperaware of the heat suna’s touch lights on your face and throughout your entire body. the scent of his bodywash and shampoo intoxicate you. your heart pounds in your ears. sunarin feels so good. he always has.

and somehow, for a kiss that makes you experience every sensation at once, what really stands out is the way you feel comforted. every insecurity that plagued your mind dissipates with suna. he squashes them like they don’t matter because that’s what they are — insignificant.

is this what he meant? you think. is this what safety feels like?

when sunarin finally pulls away, you mourn the loss of him against you with a minuscule pout. suna reaches for your hands, bringing them up to his face so he can brush his soft lips against your knuckles.

“(y/n).” suna’s voice draws your eyes away from the olympian’s hold on your hands. “you are perfect just the way you are. you are exactly where you need to be. don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise, alright? if not, i’ll just have to hammer it into you until you understand. literally.” suna winks.

you roll your eyes at the innuendo, but a laugh escapes your throat, and sunarin grins. “there’s the pretty girl i know. come on, let’s go to bed. i’m fuckin’ tired.”

you down the last of your raspberry seltzer before standing up, discovering sunarin’s hand reached out towards you. without a second thought, you interlock your fingers with his, and you follow behind as the middle blocker slides open the glass door once more.

when you enter suna’s bedroom, you throw away the white claw can in the trash bin by his desk. you climb back into your side of the bed, pulling the blankets over your body, and scooting closer to suna’s warmth. sunarin hums as he slips his hand under your (but really his) shirt. his arm drapes itself around your waist. while you nuzzle your head into his chest, suna presses featherlight kisses on your forehead.

“good night, sweet girl.” suna whispers.

“g’night, rin.” you murmur back, not missing the way he smiles against your skin.

#anime #manga #haikyuu #hq #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #° ᡣ𐭩 set i: fics

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nvuy · 6 months

Text

an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

#sunday x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail #hsr x reader #sunday x you #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )#✦ ( after hours. )

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im-smart-i-swear · 2 years

Photo

heres some doodles of The Funky Guys TM from yesterday!

i havent really had the energy to really finish any larger piece for WEEKS so doodles are all youre gonna get for now.....

you KNOW im rotating that purple fucker(eenek) in my head when i can only draw them sobbing and angry and scared and frustrated over and over again :)

MAN ive been thinkin about ‘em recently....... uhhh im gonna put some stuff about eeneks’s upbringing under the cut if anyone wants to read it(its a mess of paragraphs i didnt use when answering an ask lol so its propably not very good:/ its just some of my thoughts on een and galra as a whole)

okay so eenek is... how do i put this... fixated on the idea of the galran empire that they grew up surrounded by. they have this idealised view of how the world works and lets just say 'clones of the black paladin helping a galran and being overall nice people' doesnt really fit in there...

(btw for this au's sake lets assume an average galran lifespan is roughly similiar to humans or slightly longer, cause its way more interesting that way imo)

zarkon was the emperor for 10 000 years. ten thousand. thats generations upon generations of galrans raised in a culture of violence and hate and a sense of superiority. like..... thats fucked up right?? thats insane? after so many generations, can you even separate galran culture from the war itself?

so Eenek grew up surrounded by propaganda and war, convinced the galran empire is the best thing to ever happen to the universe. their life was relatively normal(or as close as you could get) until they were the galran equivalent of around eight. death somewhere in space or ‘in the trenches’ was propably a common occurance - sometimes it would be a friend's parent or a distant relative or some other person just distant enough to be bearable... until it wasnt.

i dont know yet if it was a parent or a sibling, but either way - they were gone. Eenek just lost a loved one, and it hit them hard. BUT instead of starting to question if the conquest was really worth all the grief, they just sunk in deeper. beacuse it has to be worth it, right? all the pain and death wasnt, couldnt be for nothing, their loved one didnt die in a pointless conflict right?? right???

and so Eenek decides to dedicate their life to the galran empire(at like. 8 years old..)

its calm for a couple years after that(though they slowly drift away from their dad(who is actually secretly forging documents and helping escaped prisoners&deserters flee the empire but shhhhh eenek doesnt know that)) and theN QUIZNKING VOLTRON APPEARS and its all downhill from there :)

(damn the more i think about them the more i realise they really ARE like a chihuahua)

#my art #soup's clothes dont make ANY sense in-universe #but i like drawing the tattered sleeves okay?#also i love the idea of her learning how to #moderate the arm's intensity?? so she can use it as a portable stove or a lighter #its the... the fackt she takes the arm. whnich was designed as a weapon for gladiator fights. and uses that to make her family's life easier #......aUGH.. do you understand my vision??#my funky guys #clone shiro #im giving all of them at least one facial scar btw #eenek's is similiar to shiro and buddy's beacuse. insert deep meaning here #kuron vld #vld kuron #taks' teenage rebellion starts. 1 dead 5 injured.#(also pal's. bc taks turns out to actually be kinda a good influence after all and helps him realise he doesnt have to listen to what #others tell him 24/7 #so he actually starts to develop healthy boundaries!!! wooo!!!)#once again i am terribly sorry to most of my followers who propably have no idea what the fuck is happening here. its not REALLY a #warrior cats blog. sorry. im just here to be silly and annoying #and warrior cats is SO BIG it feels overwhelming for me :/#i MIGHT(im not promising anything tho) do mothwings design similiar to the hawkfrost one. maybe. dont count on it.

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hypewinter · 2 years

Text

DP x DC idea

Y'all feel free to ignore this, I just gotta get this funky little idea out of my head.

So it's a reveal gone wrong....kinda. You see while Maddy is insistent that there's no way the ghost boy is her son, Jack is an emotional wreck. Apologizing to Danny for not noticing and for all the threats he hurled his way. He also promises to convince Maddy that Danny really is their son and not some ghost pretending to be him.

Maddy starts coming around and things are finally looking up for Danny, until Jack has to go somewhere and next thing he knows, he's strapped to a table.

Maddy is convinced that once she opens the ghost boy up, she'll be able to prove that he's just imitating life and isn't really alive. Then she'll show Jack and he'll believe her and they'll get back to proving how dangerous ghosts can be.

When Jack gets back, she excitedly rushes to him. Ready to show him her proof. Meanwhile a feel of dread builds up in the big man's chest as his wife's rant gets more and more maniac. They get down to the basement where there's Danny on the table. Except it's not the Danny he left, this Danny is a small baby with snow white hair and glowing green eyes.

Jack isn't even listening to his wife's explanation about how this proves this isn't their son, he just scoops the boy up and leaves.

Unsure of what to do and knowing both his wife and the giw will be after him, he goes to Vlad. Who despite his "hatred" for the two takes one look at Jack on the verge of a breakdown with baby Danny in his arms and immediately sets them up with a plan.

He sends them to Gotham with fake IDs because the ambient ectoplasm is enough to mask Danny's signature and it might even help him recover.

So they get there right and everyone around them is immediately like ???. Because where did this strangely energetic man and his giggly baby come from and why are they in Gotham of all places!?

Still, Jack's overall golden retriever energy wins them over and they think he's fine albeit a little eccentric. Until one night...

You see Danny is a baby, with the powers of a powerful half ghost, who doesn't understand that he has to hide his powers or the dangers of a baby wandering the streets at night. Cue the baby constantly turning intangible and just... slipping through the walls, leaving Jack to go running after him. Danny thinks it's a fun game. Jack thinks he won't be able to take anymore of this.

Unfortunately for poor Jack Fenton, one night during a Danny chase, he sees his boy heading right towards a fight. Between the bats and this weird guy dressed as a luchador with weird tubes sticking out of him. Then the luchador notices Danny, and Jack is brought back to that day a couple of months ago. The day he failed to protect his son. He's not going to let him down again so he does the only thing he can think of.

He absolutely bodies the luchador, scoops his son up, and runs. Not stopping until he's safely back in his rinky little apartment. Danny is giggling and making cooing noises, blissfully unaware.

Meanwhile the batfam is in shock about this huge man who came out of nowhere and just dealt with Bane like he was a nuisance more than anything. This definitely requires some investigation.

Link to the next addition!

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #finally my mind is at piece and i can go eat #if you see any typos or errors #not you didn't mind your business #thank you for coming to my ted talk #winter's tales

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johnbrand · 1 month

Text

Building a Roster

With @dansformations

Danny was more nervous than he had ever been before. All he had to do was knock on the door. Correction: all he had to do was knock on the door of Chad’s apartment. Correction with full explanation: all Danny had to do was knock on the door of Chad’s, the popular athlete he had a massive crush on, apartment.

It had come out of the blue really. The two had never hung out before, just shared a few classes here and there. So when Chad had invited Danny over to watch some soccer, Danny had replied with an instant “Yes!” Awkwardly tall and skinny, Danny hoped the shorter, muscular jock was asking him out in a sort of discreet way. But those hopes came crashing down once Chad opened the door.

“Danny boy, you made it!” Chad cheered, tossing an arm over Danny’s shoulder before leading him inside. Chad was shirtless, allowing the sweaty bush of hair within his armpit to soak the corner of Danny’s long-sleeve shirt. Had he not been transfixed by Chad’s bulky, hairy torso, or the party of many other just-as-attractive dudes, then Danny might have questioned how Chad knew he was at the door.

“Just in time, the match is about to begin,” Chad chuckled. Danny, enchanted by the pure testosterone of the room, watched as all the jocks organized themselves in front of the television. They joked with each other as the game began, boasting about their most recent sorority conquests and directing butt blasts at each other. Danny’s lust was slowly weakening, the apartment's evident stench of heterosexuality creeping in.

“Take a seat, bro,” Chad motioned to the chair beside him at the dining table, his massive, bare feet propped up right in front of the chair.

“I don’t know-”

“I said, take a seat bro,” Chad ordered, and instantly Danny obeyed. Chad redirected his attention to the game, but for some reason Danny could not focus on anything besides the feet in front of him. They were vile, funky, dirty, and obviously uncared for. Danny had never found feet attractive before, but he could not help himself from leaning in closer. He could see every spot of dead skin, every droplet of sweat. He could only wonder what the gigantic soles smelled like...tasted like…

“Yeah, that’s it…” Chad grinned, not looking away from the television as the homo’s tongue began to run along his feet. All the other guys in the room were too absorbed in the match to know what was happening behind them. “Just keep licking, it won’t be much longer now until we have a full roster.”

Danny’s mind had simply turned off, his only concern to clean the godly soles in front of him. When Chad had transferred to the university to become captain of the soccer team, he had not known the board had already discarded the team due to declining interest. “You know how American schools are,” Coach grumbled when Chad had confronted him about it. “Besides, we barely have enough men to make a qualifying roster.”

That sent Chad on a mission. He wanted to play soccer, be the captain of a team. If that meant putting together a crew for his university, then so be it. He had had no problem creating jocks in the past, but only one or two at a time with the nerds who had truly pissed him off. Over these past few weeks, he had already transformed 15 college losers into grade-A stallions, 16 if you counted the current fag at his feet.

Speaking of which, Chad decided to check in on Danny’s progress. Since the licking had begun, Danny had already packed on a considerable amount of muscular weight. His jaw was looking sharper, his overall frame hairier, and somehow (over the stench of all the other men in the room) Chad was able to detect a new degree of masculine body odor. Flexing his toes a bit, Chad registered the amount of life force that had been drained from his newest jock. He sucked his boys pretty dry. Chad wanted each of his jocks to be malleable to his and Coach’s standards and morals, but also not too far gone that they could not handle simple day-to-day tasks.

By the look of it, Danny was about done. When Chad eventually pulled his feet away, he heard Danny’s own now-monstrous stompers bouncing excitedly on the floor. Perhaps Danny could be his future sweeper.

“Danny boy, look at me,” Chad commanded, guiding the vacant pair of eyes towards his own. “You don’t like my feet, in fact you don’t like men. Bros only go for hoes, remember?”

Chad could practically watch the cogs rotate and realign in Danny’s washed-out brain.

“Good boy, now go watch soccer with the other bros and study up. Soccer is your favorite thing in the world now, and if you want to play, we need to focus all our energy on it.”

“All…our energy…” Danny mumbled, his voice much lower and slower than before. Like a zombie, the newest jock trod over to join the rest of the men. At first, the others did not know what to make of their newest companion, but after Danny let out a juicy fart, they applauded and welcomed him into the circle. It would take a few days for Chad’s feet to get dirty enough for the next recruitment, but he knew he was close to fulfilling his dreams.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #dumbification #jock tf #fratification

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