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#honestly i find it helps A LOT with Fic Anxiety if you tell yourself the thing is too weird or edgy for people to click the kudos button
nostalgia-tblr · 10 months
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oh and meanwhile i still haven't solved the mystery of Why Are People Suddenly Kudosing This One Specific Ten'n'Donna Fic From A Few Years Ago, and now I have the added mystery of Why Are A Different Set Of People Doing That But With The Grandmaster/Loki Very-Dubcon Fic That Has But One Comment And Most Of The Bookmarks On It Are Hidden In What I Can Only Assume Is Shame?
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mouwrites · 7 months
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Hi could you do a Stan , Kyle ,Kenny , Craig, and Tweek x reader (separate) who has POTS and H-EDS , I just can’t find any representation in any fics, thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day
Of course!! I'm always more than happy to give y'all some representation! (and as always please let me know if I've written anything incorrectly,, I'm always trying to learn more! plus I never want to hurt you guys qwq)
South Park - Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Craig, and Tweek With a Reader Who Has POTS and H-EDS
Tweek
This poor soul spends every waking minute worrying about you
No matter how many times you try to tell him that you can handle yourself, he's never convinced
Standing up? He's at your side in a millisecond, even if he was across the room before
"Are you dizzy? Are you okay?"
His hands are under your armpits, ready to stabilize you, before you can even respond
And he's so so gentle with you, and even scolds you for not being gentle with yourself
"Hey hey hey! Take it easy!!"
When he first found out about your conditions, he pulled several all-nighters in a row researching everything about them
He has a little notebook filled with notes on the disorders
Sometimes he'll whip out a fact that even you didn't even know
He made a point to memorize everything, mainly because he was worried that if he forgot something you'd somehow die because of it :(
Honestly he's almost as affected by it as you are; he makes himself sick with worry
Over time he might get better, but in any case you can always comfort him by just taking it easy
And cuddling him while you do :)
Craig
When you first told him about your conditions, he was just like "what."
You explained it to him, of course, but he didn't bother to do any research beyond that
He figures that you know yourself and you can take care of yourself
But at the same time he's conscious about the things you can struggle with (only because you told him)
Like, when you stand up, he keeps his eye on you for a while
Or when you hit something on accident, even lightly, he asks if you're okay
And he checks the spot later for bruising/swelling/etc
"Lemme look at that spot on your leg that hit the table earlier."
He's not prone to worrying too much, but when he does worry he asks for your thoughts too
Especially if he wants to take you to the hospital
Because ultimately he trusts you to know yourself, and he's not going to go against your wishes
Unless you're like, clearly in need of emergency services
Then he's calling the ambulance no matter what you say
But overall he's pretty normal about it, he'll only make a big deal when he's worried
Stan
He definitely asks you a lot of questions about your conditions
He's not only curious, he wants to know how to help you
And even when he's well educated, he'll keep asking questions
"How are you feeling today? Is it worse or better than usual?"
They are not always... intelligent questions
But he's just trying to figure out how he can help you in the moment
Because that's always his goal; if you need his help, he wants to be there
But he'll back off (reluctantly) if you tell him to
He'll ask "are you sure" at least three times first though 💀
He's definitely a worrier, and helping you quells his anxiety just a bit
Either way he's keeping an eye on you
And he's buying you cute compression socks (if you use them)
He'll be over the moon if you actually wear them, not only because he likes knowing you're just a bit more comfortable + safe, but because he feels like he's helping :)
Kyle
He already knew what your conditions were when you told him (vaguely, at least)
But he decided to research them more in-depth when he realized that someone he cared about had them
His first search was: "how to help a loved one with POTS/H-EDS"
(he totally blushed while typing in "loved one")
But after that he dove deep into the more technical side,, like medical journals and stuff
He probably subscribes to a journal that specifically focuses on your conditions,, just so he can keep up-to-date on any new information
He does all this without telling you though, of course
He'll admit it if you somehow manage to find out about this, but he's going to try hard to make sure you don't find out
He doesn't want you thinking he's obsessed or whatever
But he low-key is
Even if you don't find out, you'll be seriously suspicious
Because he'll just whip out the most hyper-specific fact or bring up a new study
"You know they did a study on how [x] affects [y symptom], and they found that [x] can actually help. Maybe you can try it, or something."
He feels good when his knowledge actually helps you, though he also tries not to be a smart alec about it
Because, no matter how much research he does, he'll never know what you know from experience
(rare "Kyle being humble" moment spotted 🤯)
Kenny
I honestly don't think he'd take you all that seriously at first
Like, to him, if it doesn't affect your personality it isn't important
When you first told him he probably said something like:
"Damn babygirl, you still fine asf though.."
Only partially ironically 💀 (also, he uses "babygirl" as a gender-neutral term)
It's only when he actually sees you being affected by it that he gets worried
He totally freaks out the first time, and after that he sits down with you and makes you actually explain things to him
He tries to commit them to memory, but he's not going to remember everything
And he's pretty self-aware about that, so he just tries to be careful around you
Not "walking on eggshells" careful, just "no roughhousing/rough play"
And he always double-checks whenever you switch gears in terms of physical activity
"Doing okay? Need to sit down?"
He'll hold your hand and sit with you whenever you do need to sit down :)
And he'll talk casually; he always feels better when you're sitting
Mainly because he knows that's the only way you can't hurt yourself... just sitting doing nothing
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Thank you for this request! And thanks so much for reading, take care duckies <33
(divider by saradika)
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Interview of a lifetime
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PAIRING | Tom Hiddleston x Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1.3K
SUMMARY | You have your first celebrity interview with the one and only Tom Hiddleston after the release of season 1 of 'Loki'. You're extremely nervous and when Tom finds out, he will do anything to make you feel safe and help you get through your first interview.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Anxiety attack.
A/N | Hi all! This is the first one-shot I've written for Tom, he is such a gentleman in my opinion and I just couldn't help myself with this fic. I hope you will enjoy it as much if not more than I did when writing it!
Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Main Masterlist | Tom Hiddleston Masterlist
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Two weeks ago, your boss told you that you would be doing your first major celebrity interview - with none other than Tom Hiddleston himself - after the release of season 1 of the series called 'Loki'. When he told you, your first thoughts were very exciting, this could mean your big break, but when it sank in a little bit, you couldn't help but feel nervous, more nervous than you usually felt in a moment like this. Despite this, you researched a lot about Tom, Loki, and the series he was playing in, watching it as well so you would be prepared as to what was to come during the interview. Nothing could have prepared you for what actually happened though.
The morning of the interview, you made sure you had all your questions with you on your cue cards, so you would have something to fall back on if you happened to forget a question or something, but you weren't really worried too much about that. What you were most nervous about, was meeting Tom, and seeing what he was like, since you never met him. In the interviews you saw of him he looked really down to earth and like a true gentleman, but that didn't really mean anything. People could be the nicest in front of the camera and really bad people when the camera's turned off, but that wasn't the case with Tom, at all.
You decided to wear a simple white and blue sundress which always made you happy. You put on your leather jacket over it, finishing it with your black Doctor Martens boots. You wore simple make-up, not wanting to take away from the outfit too much, and your hair hung loose in waves around your shoulders. You looked at yourself in the mirror one more time before grabbing your bag and keys, ready to head out the door and to the studio for the interview. It was a 30-minute drive, which wasn't too bad, but the closer you got, the more the nerves took over how you felt.
When you arrived at the studio you parked your car and headed inside. You were still too early, but you'd take that over being even a minute late every single time. ''Hi, my name is Y/N and I'm supposed to conduct an interview here today,'' you tell the lady behind the reception desk. You have to sign in and then she showed you to the studio where the interview would be held. You got ready to sit in your chair and wait until Tom and his team arrived, reading through your questions again just so you can be sure you know what you want to ask. It doesn't take long before they arrive, and your nerves start taking over instantly.
''Good morning!'' you say in a cheerful voice, and you're surprised it comes out like that because you can feel your anxiety rising to your chest. You couldn't believe you were in the same room as TOM. FREAKING. HIDDLESTON. ''Hey, good morning! I'm Tom, and you're name is...?'' he asked when he extended his hand out to you. ''Hi, I'm Y/N, it's really nice to meet you Mr. Hiddleston!'' you answer and he says you can call him Tom, there was no need for that kind of formalities. ''It's nice to meet you too. How are you doing this morning?'' he asked as he sat in his chair, his makeup being touched up just a little bit while the cameras are being set up. ''I'm good, excited, and nervous at the same time honestly. It's the first time I'm doing a celebrity interview, so I hope it will go well,'' you tell him.
''You're going to be fine, we're not in a hurry, so if you need to we can take a break in between the questions. I get how difficult it can be to do something like this,'' he said with a reassuring smile, and you couldn't believe he was so understanding. This made you feel a little better, but that didn't take away from the fact that your chest still felt like it was on fire, and you had some difficulty breathing. ''Are you ready?'' his manager asked, and you nodded yes, so the cameras started rolling. ''The first season of Loki has just premiered, how was the filming process?'' you started the interview, and he gladly told you all about how it was to work with everyone on set and the filming process as a whole. Hearing him talk did make you calm down a little, and you were happy you got to ask some questions without stumbling over your words.
You were about 7 questions in when you suddenly got a bad rush of anxiety, you had some difficulty breathing, and you stumbled upon your words. ''Are you okay, Y/N? Do we need to take a break?'' Tom asked worried, and he stopped the interview to make sure you were okay. ''Hey, it's okay. You're okay. Breathe with me okay? He took a deep breath in through his nose and breathed out through his mouth. He repeated this a couple of times together with you, and after about 10 breaths your heart rate slowed down, and you didn't feel like you were unable to breathe anymore. The tears that threatened to fall down your face also went away, and you could compose yourself a little. ''Here, we have some water for you, take it easy and we can continue when you're ready,'' his manager said, Tom was still by your side rubbing your back soothingly.
''How are you doing now? Feeling a little better?'' he asked and you nodded. ''I'm so sorry, I tried to keep it under control, but my anxiety got the best of me. I feel horrible I had to stop the interview...'' you said with a soft voice, your sadness strongly intertwined in your voice. ''It happens to the best of us, I completely understand and it is nothing to be ashamed of. I used to have them all the time when growing up, and I know how horrible they can be. But you're going to be fine, and whenever you're ready we can continue,'' he said. You just needed a few more minutes before continuing, and the rest of the interview went by smoothly.
''Thank you so much, for your kindness and understanding. Again, I'm really sorry that it happened, but it was really nice of you to help me,'' you said to Tom, but he didn't want to hear any of it. ''Hey, like I said, it's no problem at all, it happens to the best of us. I was happy to help you feel better, I hate seeing people in distress like that,'' he said and he gave you another reassuring smile. ''Thank you, for everything,'' you said, and you extended your hand out to him as thanks, but instead, he gave you a hug. ''It was my pleasure, and I know you will be great at interviews. I can't wait to be interviewed by you again,'' he said.
When you pulled back you had a huge smile on your face. ''Oh, I'm sorry but I hope I won't overstep, but would it be possible to get your signature or maybe a selfie? I've been a fan of your work for a while now, it's okay if you say no though!'' you ask shyly and Tom is more than happy to agree. The two of you take a selfie together, and he signs the case of your laptop before walking out of the room and waving goodbye. When you go home you are all giddy and can't stop thinking about the fact that he was so extremely thoughtful and helpful. And best of all, you got a selfie with him, and it would be the wallpaper on your phone for a really long time.
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casuallyimagining · 1 year
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When September Ends // part six.
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Min Yoongi x female reader
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Summary: Six years after leaving your home planet, you’re forced to confront your past… and the one you left behind.  Word Count: 6,718 Genre: Star Wars au, friends to enemies to lovers, angst Warnings: minor character death, survivor's guilt, yoongi has anger issues, mentions of the death of an entire planet, anxiety, alcohol, reader character suffers from the burden of high expectations, mentions of torture (nothing  explicit), mentions of needles, hospitalization, brief descriptions of scarring, brief descriptions of panic, hospitalization, an assassination attempt, a gun fight, murder
Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic and @the-boy-meets-evil for listening to me complain about this fic, helping me plan, and beta-ing for me; to @oddinary4btsfor the late-game encouragement and edits.
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Playlist: All of the poetry in this fic has been pulled from various songs and poems. You can find all the songs (and some others) in the playlist that I made for this fic on Spotify.
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previous | masterlist | next
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You finally get it out of Yoongi that you were in the medbay for almost a week, and from there you estimate that you’d been captured for four days. Which isn’t all that surprising, despite the fact that the days had blended together almost seamlessly. You don’t remember much of your time with Grafner and his goons, but none of what you do recall is pleasant. 
They keep you longer than anticipated. You’re not sure why, but when the staff talks to Namjoon, he does a lot of frowning. You feel fine, though, or at least normal. Your breathing’s a little weird, and you can feel your heartbeat, which is never a particularly good sign, but it’s not anything new. But they keep you anyway, and Namjoon continues to frown.
While you’re stuck in the medbay, though, you end up spending a lot of time with Yoongi. Much of it is in silence as you get re-acquainted with each other’s company. Every once in a while, you catch him absorbed in something on his datapad, scribbling something onto the screen with his stylus like if he doesn’t write whatever it is down, there would be terrible consequences.
You’re bored, so you think, what the hell. And you ask him about it. For a while, he hems and haws, trying to fumble his way into a satisfying answer. But though he’s always been a master deceiver, he’s never been that great at lying to you. And eventually, he ends up explaining that since the incident with his team, he’s been writing poetry. It helps him cope.
Some day, he tells you, he might let you read some of it.
When you do end up leaving the medbay, they make Yoongi walk with you. You suppose it’s normal. You aren’t quite sure what state they found you in. Yoongi won’t talk about it, and Namjoon has only said that he was worried. So really, the medbay staff are probably just trying to prevent you from passing out in the hallway somewhere.
He walks a step behind you, and honestly, he’s so far away that no one that passes you would think you were even walking together. You try to get him to walk beside you by slowing down ever so slightly once in a while, but he only ends up slowing with you. You catch him once lifting his hand to hover behind your back when you slow your pace, but he never actually makes contact.
You don’t let yourself dwell on why it bothers you.
It doesn’t take long for you to get to the room Yoongi and Namjoon are sharing on the cruiser. It’s on the crew deck, not far from the medbay, though you do have to take a lift down to the appropriate level. You’re anxious. You haven’t seen Tee since Grafner captured you, and you have no idea what happened to her. Namjoon had said that he had her, and that it was better that you see her in private. But that makes you nervous. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you approach the door. 
Yoongi doesn’t even knock, he just taps the button to open the door. It beeps when the biometric scan is complete, and the door slides open. You wince at the noise–it’s a little too similar to the door to the holding cell you’d been kept in. But then Yoongi’s hand does touch your back, gently guiding you into the quarters.
Namjoon stands from where he was sitting at the table as soon as you’re inside, his arms enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. You hear Yoongi make a noise of displeasure in his throat behind you. He probably doesn’t even know that he did it. Though you feel mostly fine, the tightness of the hug is suffocating. You tap Namjoon’s tricep and he lets go.
“Where is she?” you ask softly.
Looking around the room, there aren’t many places they could have hidden Tee. There’s a small galley—table and chairs, cooktop, sink, refrigeration—and an even smaller living area. Two bunks are built into the wall in one of the corners. None of the rooms have any separation, except for a small countertop that juts out to create a bar.
Namjoon sighs, and Yoongi takes a step closer to you. You can feel the warmth of him on your back, he’s standing that close.
“I’m really sorry,” a third voice says. You hadn’t even noticed Seokjin standing in the corner, so focused were you on Namjoon and looking for Tee. 
Together, Seokjin and Namjoon lift a lumpy-looking sack onto the table. It lands with a heavy ‘clunk’, and your heart drops into your stomach. You must react physically to the sound, because Yoongi’s hand gently finds your shoulder.
“I found her in the snow three clicks from the Talzi village,” Seokjin explains, opening the drawstring on the sack. “They must have dumped her on their way off planet.”
You don’t hear what he says next. It’s like you’re alone in the room. Just you, and Tee’s head sat on top of the rest of her parts in the bag. Silently, you reach forward and pick it up. The black metal head is heavier than you’d expected. You can feel your lungs start to tighten, can feel your pulse begin to speed up. You’re dizzy and too hot and everything is pressing in around you.
A squeeze of your shoulder expands your shrunken world ever so slightly. You’re hyper-aware of Yoongi standing close and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder. You try to take deep breaths, try to focus on his thumb rubbing small circles into your shirt. It takes you longer than you’d care to admit to get yourself under control, and when the fog clears and your awareness expands back to normal, you’re sitting on the bottom bunk and you and Yoongi are alone in the room. 
“Where-” Your voice is shockingly hoarse.
Yoongi stands and crosses to the refrigeration unit, pulling out a metal bottle. When he returns to you, he gently takes Tee’s head from you and presses the bottle into your hands. It’s full of water, and you drink as he explains.“Namjoon knows someone that might be able to repair Tee. He and Seokjin went to make some arrangements.” He sits beside you, close enough that your legs are touching. For a long moment, he’s quiet. Then, you feel him take a deep breath in, his hand gently resting on your knee. “Are you okay?” 
How do you even answer that?
You shrug to buy yourself some time. But then you finally just decide on, “I’ve never had to deal with it without her.”
You’d been given Tee shortly after joining the rebellion. You’d left Fest only a few months before, and by the time you’d made it to Yavin IV, you’d been a bundle of anxiety and stress. You’d felt like shit for leaving home, and suddenly, you were lonely in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar people. Tee had been built to be a field medical droid, but she seemed unable or unwilling to care for so many  rebel soldiers. You’d formed an unlikely bond with the scrap-destined droid almost immediately, and she became yours. You hadn’t ever dealt with your anxiety without her. Except…
“What about when you were home?”
Except Fest. 
“I had you,” you say softly.
He makes a noise of surprise. You don’t see a point to lying. You were being truthful when you told Yoongi you wanted to start over again, and that means being honest with him. And it would be a disservice to all the effort he put in back then. He’d done so much to help you manage things–you aren’t even sure he was aware of it all–and even just his presence a lot of the time could help you calm down. He was there for you when things got to be too much with schoolwork or your parents or just life in general. You hadn’t even realized how bad it truly was until you no longer had him.
Looking at Yoongi now, though, it’s clear that he wasn’t expecting your answer. His cheeks are dusted pink, and he’s staring at his hand that still rests on your knee. “I can’t replace Tee,” he admits. “But I’m here. If you want that.”
His words warm you, if only slightly. He sounds like the Yoongi of your memories, the Yoongi that once waited outside of an exam hall for you for an hour with your favorite sweet just to help calm your nerves about how you performed. It gives you hope that maybe the two of you can move on, that you can be friends again. Maybe not in the way that things had been, but close enough.
He scoots backward on the cot so his back is resting against the wall. His feet stick out past the mattress. It takes a second, but you mirror his movements. The steel of the wall is solid and a little chilly, even through your shirt. You’ve always found the cold calming–a side effect of growing up on a planet with a colder climate. Yoongi’s shoulder is solid against yours, he’s so close you can feel his body move as he breathes. 
It’s quiet for a while, your focus falling to the bag still on the table. Tee’s head sits there, too–you assume Yoongi placed her there gently based on how delicately she’s leaning against the rest of her parts.
“Can I tell you something?” Yoongi asks. His voice is soft, almost nervous. 
You have no idea what he’s going to say next, but you make an affirmative noise. For a moment, once again, he’s quiet. You offer him the bottle in your hands, unsure of what else to do. He takes it but doesn’t drink, instead rolling it around in his hands as he chooses his words.
“I… I really missed you,” he says finally, and you can tell by his tone that he means it. “For a while, I thought you were dead. I just couldn’t accept that you’d leave, and I guess I just… I took it too personally when it finally sunk in that you had.”
“I’m sorry, Yoon. I just…” You take a deep breath. If you thought explaining it to Namjoon was hard, this was infinitely worse. Leaving was never about Yoongi, but in a way, it was everything to do with him. You pick at the fabric of your pants as you sort your thoughts. “I guess I just had to get out of there. It was like I was stuck in a blizzard, I didn’t know which way was the right one to go and the opportunity to leave came up and I just… took it.” You sigh and finally look at him. His head is tipped back so that it rests against the wall, and his eyes are closed. You can’t quite read the expression on his face, but you know he’s hurting. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem angry. “If I had stopped for five seconds to think about it, I would have asked you to come with me, but there wasn’t much time and I didn’t even know if you’d have said yes, so I… guess I just didn’t want to try.”
He’s quiet. Somehow, it’s worse than him yelling at you. At least when he’d yelled at you, you knew where he stood. But the quiet has your chest tightening. Your pulse grows louder in your ears, the rush almost deafening. You don’t think he’s mad, but knowing that he’s probably disappointed and hurt makes you feel like you’ve failed him, somehow. Your stomach is heavy.
“I-” 
The door opens. Your whole body tenses at the noise. You’ll never know what Yoongi was going to say, because at that moment, Namjoon and Jin walk back in.
Namjoon nods to Yoongi. “He wants to meet us.”
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Namjoon’s contact is a kid. Or, at least, he looks like a kid. He’s younger than Yoongi is, with a baby face and muscular build. Yoongi has never seen the kid around before–all Namjoon will say is that he’s ‘been away.’ Cryptic. Yoongi’s not sure he likes it.
The kid’s room is a mess. Mechanical parts are scattered everywhere. Yoongi has to brush a pile of metal shavings off of the bench at the table just so you’d have somewhere to sit. There’s a half-built droid sitting on the kid’s cot, and a robotic vice on a long hydraulic arm attached to the counter in the small galley.
Namjoon and Seokjin have spent the past 10 minutes re-explaining the situation to the kid, but he’s said almost nothing in return. He’s listening, at least, and nodding along when it’s appropriate. You sit beside Yoongi, mostly in the same position as the kid. The bag of Tee’s parts sits unopened–the kid hasn’t even bothered to inspect anything and you won’t even look at it. 
Yoongi’s surprised at how long it takes for Namjoon and Seokjin to run out of steam. They explain everything, how it would be a service to the rebellion to repair Tee, how it would fly in the face of everything the Empire stands for to have the droid up and running again, how it would just be a nice thing to do. Their arguments aren’t the strongest in Yoongi’s opinion, but they’re trying to be sensitive to you and the situation, so they can’t really give a lot of detail. But still, the kid is silent, his hands folded neatly on the table.
It goes quiet in the room. The kid is stationed on a ship somewhere just outside of Hutt Space, and the powerful, steady thrumming of the engines is the only sound for a long while. Quickly, it becomes clear that the kid isn’t interested in helping fix Tee. He just sits there, doe-eyed stare taking in the four of you. Eventually, though, he hums.
“I don’t think I’m the one to help you,” he says, his hand resting on the fabric sack of Tee’s parts.
Namjoon starts. “What? But-”
The kid shrugs. “Ask someone else.”
And the silence returns. Yoongi watches as Namjoon fumes. He retreats to a corner of the room with Seokjin, their brows furrowed and their arms crossed. Yoongi can only imagine what they’re whispering about. If the two of you were alone, he’d probably make something up for you to laugh at.
He misses hearing you laugh.
You readjust how you’re sitting on the bench, leaning ever so slightly more toward Yoongi. “How long did they have you for?” 
Your question catches the kid off-guard, and Yoongi can see his facade crumble ever so briefly before he’s able to build it back up. You tap the side of your wrist and nod to the kid. Sure enough, along the outside of the kid’s wrist is a scar. It’s a dull white against the kid’s otherwise golden skin, a few centimeters long and thick as a stylus.
“I don’t know what you’re-”
Before the kid can get any further, you push up your sleeve. You have the same scar–same length, same thickness, same placement–except yours is an angry pink. It’s healing quickly, but not quickly enough. The bacta patches could only do so much for it; even the medbay attendants said there wasn’t anything more they could do. Especially because you wouldn’t tell them exactly what had made the scar in the first place.
The kid’s eyes go wide when he sees the scar on your wrist.
“It’s funny,” you say softly, rubbing your wrist where the pink skin looks the angriest. “It didn’t hurt as much as the rest, but it’s the only thing that left a mark.”
The kid mirrors your actions, rubbing the scar on his own wrist. “Yeah.”
“They let me go after a few days. I’m not sure why,” you tell the kid. Your voice is quiet. It’s strange to hear you talking about it. You’ve been so tight-lipped in the few days since leaving the medbay, Yoongi’s interested in hearing anything you’ll say. “They didn’t even ask questions during it.”
Yoongi frowns. They didn’t ask you anything? That makes no sense. Why would they capture you and put you through all that just to let you go without getting any information? Granted, there isn’t much you could have told them. You were a major, but it’s not like you had access to the rebellion’s secrets. You knew a couple key locations, but the most important information was strictly need-to-know. So then why capture you in the first place? 
Yoongi hates Grafner. 
“Almost five years,” the kid admits. “It was my first mission. I escaped when the princess rescued the Alderaanians.”
From the corner where he and Namjoon scheme, Seokjin perks up. He, too, had been released in Princess Leia’s quest to release the Alderaanian people from the Empire’s prisons across the galaxy. Was the kid from Alderaan? Five years was a long time to be imprisoned.
“This droid,” gently, you lay your hand on the sack of Tee’s parts, “she was destroyed when I was captured. Or maybe she was destroyed after that, I don’t know. But she was… she is my medical droid. I need her.”
After a moment, the kid hums. “You said there’s blaster damage?”
“Mostly to the torso,” Namjoon offers, patting the front of his shoulder to show where the damage on Tee is centralized.
“It would take time. If any of the central components are damaged, I would have to rebuild them from scratch, and even then, there’s no guarantee.”
“We have time,” Namjoon says from the corner. “We go to a farming colony next, but I don’t anticipate it being too stressful.” At that, the younger major looks to you, and a hint of concern crosses his face briefly. But you nod, and it’s gone.
The kid is quiet. He toys with the fabric of the bag, and Yoongi can see the thoughts circling through his mind. Finally, the kid sighs.
“Come back in a month.” He sounds like it’s the last thing he wants to do, but honestly, Yoongi couldn’t care less. You want Tee fixed, and the kid is going to do it. That’s all that matters.
You smile, and lean ever so slightly into Yoongi’s side. He can feel you relax, the tension of the negotiation leaving you. “Thanks, Jungkook.”
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Yoongi hates this new apartment. It’s bigger, sure, and he gets his own room away from Dae, and there’s more room to play. But it’s ages away from his old house and the other kids he knew. The new apartment is boring. The only person he has to play with is Dae, and Dae is more concerned with his work at the Academy, and his internship at the factory, and Sella, the girl that lives in the building across the street.
And Yoongi doesn’t want to spend time with his stupid older brother anyway.
Now that they’ve moved, his parents spend more time at the factory. Which means that Yoongi spends more time on his own. At first, it sounds great–what six-year-old doesn’t want that kind of freedom?--but he quickly grows tired of staying inside all day. The snowy season has just ended, and now that the weather is starting to get warmer, he wants to go outside and go on adventures.
But outside isn’t much better. There are other kids that live in the apartment complex, and most of them around his own age, but they all also seem to already know each other. It kind of stinks, but Yoongi’s mostly okay with sitting outside and watching the other kids play. Their games look fun, but he’s not about to just go up and start playing with them. What if they don’t want to play with him? What if they don’t like him?
It takes about a week before Yoongi gets comfortable enough to play outside. The other kids aren’t out yet, just a couple of the adults that live in the building. It must be their day off–the adults in the apartments across the city sometimes take turns watching the kids play because the moms and dads work so much. So Yoongi thinks nothing of it when the adults watch him as he slowly approaches the climbing frame in the middle of the grassy area.
He’s almost to the top of the frame–it’s round, and he wants to sit at the top to see if he can see the factory–when another kid appears at the base. Yoongi’s up higher, but he can tell that this new kid is taller. She watches him for a few moments, watches him pull himself up the geometric-shaped bars.
“Hi,” she says finally, pulling herself up onto the first level of bars. She’s got a bag on her back, the straps slipping down a bit as she moves. She adjusts them and offers him a small smile. Her front tooth is missing.
Yoongi waves. “Hi.”
“You’re new.” Carefully, she curls her arm around the bars so she doesn’t fully have to hang on, and she climbs no further.
“Yeah.”
A door opens across the grassy knoll and more kids run out. They wave at the adults watching the playground and yell for the girl the closer they get. They all stop short of the climbing frame.
“Why are you hanging out with the weird kid?” one of the kids asks. The others start to run around the grassy area and the climbing frame.
The girl spares Yoongi a glance. He can feel his face warming up. He didn’t even know these kids yet. Maybe they’re the weird ones. But then the girl frowns.
“He’s not weird, he’s just new.”
It stops Yoongi in his tracks. The other kids just shrug, and then they’re gone, shouting and laughing and chasing each other around the grass and the playground. But the girl stays. She hangs there for a while, arm looped around the metal bar, and she watches the other kids. After a second, though, she hops down, and Yoongi watches her walk over and sit under a tree.
Why doesn’t she play with the others? he thinks. They look like they’re having fun.
She notices him watching her, and waves from her place under the tree. But then she digs into her bag and pulls out a small datapad.
For a while, he goes back to climbing. He slips between the bars and dangles there, climbing from one to the other under the structure. But quickly, he gets bored. He drops down to the ground, losing his balance and falling onto his butt. It doesn’t hurt, but he scrambles to his feet quickly and looks around to see if any of the other kids saw. No one’s paying attention, except for maybe the grown ups, and now that he’s standing, they don’t seem too concerned. 
He crawls through the bars of the climbing frame and for a moment, he pauses. He wants to go sit with the girl. He wonders what she’s reading, why she isn’t playing with the others. Before he knows it, he’s drifted close enough to the tree that she notices him. 
“Why aren’t you playing with the others?” he asks, kicking at the dirt. It’s not loose–the ground is still a little frozen from the snowy season–but it gives him something to focus on that isn’t the girl.
“Don’t wanna,” she says simply. 
“What’re you doing?”
“Mama wants me to practice reading for the Academy.” She holds up the datapad and sure enough, bright letters and some pictures cover the screen. Yoongi can barely make out a couple words, like ‘cat’ and ‘ball’ and ‘play.’
He hums and plops to the ground beside her. “I’m Yoongi.”
A gust of wind blows, hard enough to make them both lean a little to the left. They giggle together.
“I’m Y/N.”
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Why are all of the planets cold? Yoongi thinks, pulling the woolen jacket closer around himself and crossing his arms. No one had thought to warn any of them that the planet they’d be landing on was so goddamn cold. Thankfully, the villagers had been kind enough to share their homemade clothing.
The small farming village is honestly impressive. Vast fields of food products–wheat and grains and vegetables–as well as for grazing for the animals–wooly, horned things that Yoongi doesn’t know the name for–surround a central village. The buildings are a wild combination of tech and primitive, with wooden and stone homes beside high-tech storage facilities and management sheds. Droids roll and walk and float through the compound, going about their duties unbothered by the presence of the new group of visitors, most of them repurposed from their intended Imperial tasks.
Namjoon and Seokjin have gone somewhere deeper into the village, taken to talk and negotiate with the village leaders. Which leaves Yoongi alone with you to wander around, look at the farming operation, and–the true purpose of your presence here–to figure out if this was an actual act of goodwill and support by the farmers, or if there was something shady going on. 
You’re crouched next to Yoongi, your focus on a small, single-wheeled droid that has taken interest in the two of you. You listen as the droid speaks. It’s slow, methodical, almost as if the little guy has to consider every single word before it comes out of his artificial voice box. But patiently, you listen, nodding where appropriate and humming when there’s a lull as the droid processes. The little guy is telling you about the planet’s cold season, which it's just now slowly coming out of, and as if to emphasize the droid’s words, you shiver a little.
The villagers had given you a sweater, as well, that matched the one they’d given Yoongi almost perfectly. Where his is red–around the cuffs of the sleeves, patches on his elbows, around the bottom hem, and the hem of the hood–yours is green, but other than that, they’re made of the same mottled grey and yellow wool.
Something in the back of his mind makes a point to note that you look better in it than he does.
Somewhere in the distance, a whistle blows, and the droid snaps to attention. “End of day!” He exclaims, rolling back and forth excitedly. The pace of his speech does not match the enthusiasm of his movements. “D-4 must help with evening preparations. Goodbye!”
You watch him go in silence, waiting until the little guy has disappeared into the busyness of the compound. You stand then and laugh a little, shaking your head. The droid was polite, but it had completely ambushed you out of nowhere when the two of you were on your way to the cabin you’d be staying in. Yoongi wasn’t sure how long the droid had captured your attention, but the sun–small speck of light that it was–was starting to set. 
“Come on,” you say softly, nodding in the direction of the cabin. “Not much to do until Namjoon and Jin get back.”
The village isn’t very big, but it’s spread out over a fairly large tract of land. The cabin you’re staying in is on the outskirts, on the edge of the planted fields and the scrub of the wild. It’s quite the image, neat rows of short, verdant crops right beside unruly brush and unkempt grasses. Cattle graze in the distance of the flat land, but they don’t come near the village in this part. The cabin is small, just big enough inside for two small cots and a small refreshing room. It shares a full outdoor room–with comfortable chairs and a firepit–with the cabin next door, where Jin and Namjoon are staying. 
You take the time to pour a glass of wine for Yoongi and yourself when you get back to the cabin. You sit together around the firepit. It’s quiet, and for a moment, Yoongi feels the need to say something. But he’s not sure what, and the urge passes quickly into a moderately comfortable silence. You watch the village as it transitions from working into its evening routine. 
Yoongi watches you.
Not in a creepy way. He’s not staring. If you looked over at any point, you’d probably just assume that he’s looking in your direction, not at you. But he can’t help it. He’s suddenly struck by the thought that this–this planet, this farm, this life–had once been exactly what he wanted.
When he was in the Academy–a stressed, angry teenager instead of a stressed, angry adult–he dreamed about a quiet life on a planet far away from the Empire. Away from the boring routines, away from the stagnation, away from the abuse and the constant monitoring and the highest of high expectations. He’d wanted to get so far away from Fest, to a place a lot like this. Quiet life, little farm, reporting to no one and responsible for only himself. 
He’d been so stupid back then.
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The pure, unbroken silence of the village at night is stunning. It’s so quiet, you can hear the winds whispering through the grass, gentle as a lover’s touch. It’s peaceful. Yoongi wishes he could enjoy it.
Instead, he’s sneaking around in the dark with you, trying to fill out the rest of the picture that Namjoon and Seokjin have started. 
The farming village seems nice. Everyone has been kind, and from what little interactions with them he’s had, they seem to support the rebellion. But there’s no such thing as safe enough. Not when it comes to the Empire, not when they’re killing or imprisoning anyone who disagrees with them, not when people are suffering at the hands of autocratic demagogues hell-bent on keeping the galaxy under their thumb by any means necessary. So, together, you and Yoongi  go snooping in the village’s archives.
“Find anything?” He’s leaning over your shoulder, chest against your back, so he knows you’re seeing the same things he is. 
The light from the terminal is shockingly bright in the darkness of the records room. There’s only one window in the room, and almost no one is awake at this hour, so it’s not like you’re at a major risk of getting caught. But still. Yoongi’s nervous.
Thankfully, the village seems clean based on their records.
“Traveling merchants, droid sales, someone looking to sell a bantha…” you read off softly. 
The servers track visitors to the entire planet, not just the village. All in all, Denebia as a whole seems overwhelmingly free of any Empire influence. Even cross-referencing what you know about Imperial activity in the Mid-Rim and the Western Reaches, there’s nothing that could even be considered aiding the enemy. There’s a forced inspection from a few cycles ago, but no follow-ups and no communications since. 
Yoongi hums. “I was wondering how they got a ban-” 
A soft beep outside the door cuts him off. You both freeze, heads snapping to the left to stare in the direction of the noise. Neither of you breathe. Yoongi can hear his heartbeat in his ears, can feel you tense in front of him. One moment passes. Then another. And a third. You let out a quiet breath. Yoongi’s head bumps into yours as he relaxes.
You exit the terminal, log off, shut it down, put everything back where it was before you’d even entered the room. Slowly, carefully, the two of you creep away. The door sliding open and closed sounds like a starfighter engine in the night’s stillness. In the distance, the bantha–the single bantha whose acquisition is documented in the data terminal–brays forlornly. Yoongi lets out a slow, deep breath.
“Hello!” 
Yoongi’s soul leaves his body, tethered to the mortal plane only by a firm grip on his hand. His brain doesn’t even register the slow voice or the quiet, low-to-the-ground whirring of mechanical joints. A few heartbeats later, he’s calm enough to realize what’s happening. D-4 has found you, the big wheel of his little body rolling him back and forth excitedly.
“Why are you awake?” the droid asks slowly, bumping into Yoongi’s shoe.
A tug on his hand. A squeeze of his fingers. He spares a glance over at you. Something about you is wrong, your energy is off. It surprises him, seeing you so affected by being surprised. But he squeezes your fingers back and turns to D-4.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he says coolly, calmly. “Just taking a walk.”
The little droid makes a sympathetic noise. “D-4 and IO can walk with you?”
“Who’s-”
A beep–the same beep he’d heard when the two of you were in the records room–interrupts him. You take a step backwards into Yoongi, your back coming into contact with his chest. It takes him a moment to see what you’re reacting to, but then movement near the corner of the building catches his attention. 
A sphere hovers into view. It’s shiny black, with lights and moving appendages. There’s a tube that kind of looks like a pipette–maybe for seeding? Yoongi questions–and a clamp with prongs that carry several small bags.
Suddenly, the scar on your wrist makes sense.
The repurposed interrogation droid beeps again, its lights flashing various colors as if to communicate something. The pipette arm extends as it gestures to the left. Yoongi can feel you flinch, can feel how tense you are as you stand stock-still in front of him.
“No,” he says firmly. It’s snappier than he intended, and D-4 shrinks back a little at his tone. But he doesn’t like how affected you are by the shiny black sphere. “We’re good. Thank you.”
He doesn’t wait for the droids to respond. If he offends them, he’ll deal with it in the morning. All he knows is that you need to get away from the interrogation droid, and that needs to happen immediately. But when he tugs on your arm–you’re still holding his hand, his brain makes a point to note–you don’t move. It’s like you’re frozen to the spot. Gently, he wraps an arm around your waist and gives a light squeeze.
“Come on,” he whispers close to your ear. “Let’s go. Just focus on me.”
Mechanically, you nod, and he’s finally able to maneuver you away from the droids. It takes time, but eventually, he gets you back to the cabin. You collapse onto the sofa, your focus somewhere in the distance. The dying embers from the fire a few feet away cast a ghastly shadow across your face. He sits beside you, a hand on your knee.
“Hey,” he says softly, an attempt to draw your attention. “Hey. Look at me?” 
When your eyes finally meet his, they’re wide, almost wild. Seeing that droid has really shaken you up. Yoongi’s out of his element. This was nothing like when you were younger–back then, he’d been able to get your mind off whatever was bothering you fairly easily. Give him an hour, and he’d have you laughing, the stress and anxiety all but forgotten. This, though? This was panic. 
In the struggle to think of something–anything–to do to get your mind away from wherever it’s gone, Yoongi’s thoughts go blank. He’s always been quick on his feet, good under pressure, but it’s also always been effortless. You were the meticulous planner. He mostly just reacted to things as they came at him. But now that skill seems to have left him.
So he does the first thing that comes to mind. He scoots a little closer to you and pulls out his datapad. He scrolls back, through his own poems, through his emotions, through his memories, to the beginning. He squeezes your knee, and slowly, he starts to read.
You couldn’t be the one–the one to love her. She dazzled you, but your eyes could never get used to the light. So you remained clothed in shadow, and you ignored the hand that reached for you. You ignored your own heart. And that is why you couldn’t be the one. She wasn’t just the moon; she was the whole sky, but you couldn’t see beyond the stratosphere. Your souls loved each other as much as any two souls could possibly love– but you couldn’t be the one.
As he reads, he can feel you relax a little beside him. At the very least, you aren’t as stiff. By the time he’s done, you’ve got one arm up on the back of the sofa, your head resting against it. 
“Sad,” you hum, voice soft. 
In the low light, he can see a strange mix of emotions in your eyes. You’re not completely past seeing the interrogation droid, but there’s something else there, too. Something he can’t bring himself to think about. He stands, adds more kindling to the fire, watches as the flames lap at the bark of the log when it catches. For a while, the only sounds in the night are the crackling of the fire, the settling of the log in the pit as it’s burnt. When Yoongi turns, you’re watching him solemnly.
“Did you write that?” you ask as he returns to the sofa. There’s a thoughtfulness to your voice, but Yoongi gets the sense that your mind has drifted to somewhere else.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No that… Kitt wrote that. She was brilliant.”
“You really liked her.” There’s something about how you look at him. He’s never seen this emotion before. He’s known you since you were kids, and yet, this is entirely new.
“She was great. They all were, but Kitt… Kitt was the best.” He chuckles, the poem bringing up memories he’d thought he’d buried. “She and Feeney were so in love. They thought that they were being sneaky and that we didn’t know, but god, they were so obvious.”
You offer a small, melancholy smile. “I would have liked to meet her.”
Yoongi nods. Kitt would have liked you. You were both planners, and you got shit done. Kitt wasn’t necessarily book smart, but she had a lot of life experience. You would have made a good team.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, clearing the thickness out of his voice with a cough. 
“Like even my mind’s not safe anymore.” You say it so plainly, like you’re commenting on the weather. 
He has no idea how to respond.
You sigh, the arm on the back of the sofa reaching out, your fingers picking a stray string off the shoulder of his sweater. “Can I tell you something?” 
“Of course.”
You remain silent, however. Your eyes are intense as you watch him. You seem to be weighing something, as if suddenly some great decision has fallen on you, and none of the options are good. Yoongi doesn’t press. You’ll say it when you’re ready. You’ve never been one to be particular about communicating your thoughts–usually you’d just tell him something, and think it through aloud–but he’s learned that when you do put some thought behind how you say something, it’s usually worth the wait.
So he waits.
“When I…” You frown. “When they…” You pause, clear your throat, brush something invisible off the back of the sofa. “They never asked me any questions,” you say softly. Suddenly, whatever’s off in the darkness is much more interesting. “They just kept… It was a lot. I don’t think I would have made it without you.”
“Me?” He hadn’t done anything. In fact, he really wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d told him you blamed him for being captured by the Empire in the first place. He’d done nothing but yell at you. How had he helped?
“The mind can do quite a lot to protect you when under extreme duress.” You sound like Namjoon. “I’m… I know we got off track, but I’m glad you’ve been with me for this long.”
Your words are vague, but there’s something about how you say them that hits Yoongi straight in the jaw. He’s not entirely sure what you’re talking about, and yet there’s a sting behind his eyes. He reaches up and squeezes your hand. 
You still won’t look at him, but you flip your hand so that it fits more comfortably in his.
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ooh our first real dose of them acting like they like each other! how do we feel? what do we think? my ask box is open!!
our poem this part is ‘Be the One’ by Lang Leav
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galactic-magick · 2 years
Text
Mental Health Needs: Julian Bashir x Reader
Summary: Julian gives you assurance as you adjust to anxiety and depression medication.
Words: 600+
Author’s Notes: This is a very self indulgent fic haha. I recently started meds irl and the first week I felt like absolute shit so this is based on that. Thankfully I’m feeling much better now though and my panic attacks have almost completely stopped :)
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There’s certainly benefits to the chief medical officer being your boyfriend.
You can ask him any question, and he’s always happy to answer. You’ve asked him many times if he finds the questions annoying, but he always assures you he enjoys explaining biological processes to you, and helping you in any way he can. He loves his work, and he loves you, so the two pair quite nicely.
But for some reason, you’re still hesitant to ask him about your latest problem.
The trouble is, you’ve been struggling with anxiety and depression your entire life, and you finally agreed to try medication for it. You’ve resisted it for years, telling yourself “you don’t need it” and trying to cope with the symptoms on your own. But Julian finally convinced you to give it a try, after witnessing multiple of your panic attacks and depressive episodes. He couldn’t bear to see you suffer so badly anymore, and honestly you didn’t want to feel like that anymore either.
Yet the problem is far from solved. The side effects of the medication have been making you feel terrible. You feel super sick all the time, and all you want to do is sleep. You don’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him it’s not working, but you can’t keep going like this.
You enter the Infirmary, relieved to see that no one else besides Julian is in there currently. He’s logging some things into the computer when he sees you.
“Oh hello darling, come to visit me at work?” he grins at you.
“Actually I’m here for medical reasons,”
His smile fades and his eyes widen, rushing over to you with a tricorder, “What’s wrong?”
You sigh, “I’ve just been feeling so awful since I’ve been on these meds. I’m tired all the time no matter how much I sleep and take naps and I just feel like a zombie. I’m also nauseous and have no appetite at all, literally nothing the replicator can make appeals to me-”
He pulls you into a tight hug, cutting you off as your face squishes into him, “Oh, honey,”
“Well what do I do?” you mumble.
He brings you over to one of the beds and sits down on the edge with you. “Well first of all, unfortunately, those side effects are very normal. It takes at least a week or two for your body to adjust to the drug and take full therapeutic effect,”
“I guess so, but are the positives in the long run really going to outweigh how I feel right now?”
“For many people yes, they usually do. But if for whatever reason these side effects are still not going away after a while, I can prescribe you a different medication and we can keep trying different ones until we find one that works for you. A lot of people need to go through trial and error to find the right one,”
“Really?”
“Yes, darling. It’s really no trouble. Mental health is just as important as physical health, we’ve known that for centuries now. We’ll do everything we can until you feel better,”
You smile, “Thank you, Julian. But what about all my duties to next couple weeks? I’ve felt so sick I’ve barely gotten my job done-”
“I’ve already told Commander Sisko that you should be relieved from duty if you feel it necessary,”
“But-”
“No buts. Doctor’s orders,” he kisses your forehead. “Now, how about you go back to your quarters and rest. I have a couple more appointments today but after that I’ll come join you,”
“Okay,” you nod, wrapping your arms around him one more time.
“One benefit to you being more sleepy is you’ll be more cuddly,” he smirks.
“Julian!” you nudge him teasingly. “If you wanted more cuddles you didn’t have to give me drugs that are basically sedating me, you could’ve just asked,”
“You’re hilarious,” he laughs. “Now shoo, I’ll see you soon.”
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Requests Status: I am currently not taking requests right now because finals are coming up for me, I’m just writing a couple short fics while I’m on Thanksgiving break. Once my semester is done and I’m on winter break I’ll probably start taking Star Trek requests though! Stay tuned :)
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murdrdocs · 2 years
Note
Ok umm hi hello I just wanna say my name is Jeenni like legit I know that I'm anon but I hate my user so......yeah also u can call me jeans if u want so I just wanted to request if u could make a very sweet very cute fluffy Mike Wheeler fic it's just that everything I find is of him being a legitimate price of shit so I need something sweet in my life also my bf just broke up with me so this would honestly be life saving to my sanity
PS sorry I ranted it's just I have a lot in my mind rn <3
no no don’t apologize for the rant. also nice to meet you jeenni, i’m celeste :) and i’m more than happy to write this for you. i’m sorry (or glad, depends on how u feel) abt ur breakup btw :( i tried to make this a little bit longer for you. feel free to send me any request you have and i’ll be sure to get it done just for you <333
snippets of your relationship with mike
before he could call you his, before he even confessed, you knew how he felt.
you could feel his gaze, the emotions he attempted to communicate with just a look. most of the time, you pretended they didn’t exist, convincing yourself that they were just a figment of an overactive, hopeless romantic, imagination. but sometimes, just every so often, you would look at him, and he would look at you, and there would be something there. you weren’t a poet, your mind could barely conjure up a coherent sentence most of the time, but you knew that the way he looked at you was something so many people wrote about, painted about, yearned for.
something you’ve yearned for.
confessions are made over gas station slushees and sitting on the sidewalk. everyone else had already gone home, lucas and max riding together, and will and el riding with jonathan. your car was in the shop, so mike offered to give you a ride instead. you two did live close to each other.
you were getting ready to leave the diner, when mike half heartedly commented that he wanted a slushee. so that led you here, cherry and blue raspberry slushees in hand, mouths cold and tinted with food coloring. you’d stopped speaking for a while now, just sitting and watching the stillness of the night.
then he called your name, and you hummed, glancing over at him when he didn’t continue. “what’s going on, mikey?” you’d asked him. the nickname had become common for you to say recently, usually spoken when it was just you two as you feared the others would make fun of you or him.
he was looking head on, but after a deep breath he turned to face you.
“if i tell you something, promise you won’t hate me.” so you did, telling him that you could never hate him.
and when he spoke his mind, words almost whispered under shrouds of fear, anxiety and insecurities, you knew that you could never hate mike. never in a million years.
there’s concerns and suggestions shared between you on if you should tell the others. you both agree to ease them into the concept, but then mike kisses you when he’s saying goodbye and the secret is out.
he can’t really help it, not that he particularly tried. mike just can’t keep his hands off of you.
everyone surrounding you assumed that the “honeymoon phase” would die off within a few weeks, but it went on for months, and never really ended. kisses when you thought no one was looking, holding hands under tables and behind backs, knowing glances that yielded giggles. what was annoying to others, was endearing to the both of you.
you’d never felt loved, appreciated, and cared for like you do with mike. if you’re so much as saying a few less words than usual, mike is rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand and kissing your temples. he’s always there to listen to your rant about any and everything, immediately taking your side even if you’re most definitely in the wrong. he watches all your chick flicks, and nightmare inducing horror movies, with you.
and the entire time, you’re waiting for the other pen to drop. waiting for the inevitable to occur. you’ve braced yourself, mentally lowered your expectations, and waited. and when it does come, it’s minuscule, and nagging at the back of your brain.
mike couldn’t say The Big Three.
you’ve said it, slipped up a few times before you intended to say it. and despite what you tell yourself, you wished he would say it too. who doesn’t?
but either way, you knew that mike loved you, because his entire being showed it.
sorry for the abrupt ending i didn’t wanna leave this sitting in my drafts :(
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richiekirschs · 2 years
Note
robin fic where she thinks reader is into steve but reader likes her and a cute confession at the end?
this has a lot more dialogue than i meant for it sorry
written for gn!reader, they/them used
- you’d been friends with steve forever
- like forever
- your parents had been friends in high school
- you two were always together as kids
- as you got older, he got popular and cocky
- you didn’t
- you stopped talking to him during his king steve phase
- obviously you missed him, but he was a bit of a dick, and you didn’t like tommy and carol
- then, one day, he showed up at your door with flowers and shaking hands
- he sat down with you and gave you a genuine apology, saying he hoped you two could be friends again
- you accepted, and you two became closer than ever
- you met robin while steve worked at scoops
- you’d walked in, expecting to find him at the counter, and instead found a very pretty girl
“how can i help you today?” she’d asked you in a monotonous voice.
you blinked. “uh— i’m not here for ice cream, just came to see steve. sorry.”
- you’d quickly formed a friendship with robin from how much time you spent bothering steve while he worked
- he complained that you two were hanging up on him, and robin would shoot you a discreet wink
- you’d pray that she couldn’t see you blushing
- robin knew you were single because every time a guy would ask you out, you’d quickly say no
- she also knew better than to get her hopes up, thinking you rejected them because you liked her
- obviously, she thought you had a crush on steve
- giggling at his awful jokes, occasionally wearing his shirts, doing favors for him when he was busy at the counter
- steve knew about your sexuality
- you trusted him with your life
- he also knew that you didn’t mind him telling the people that you two were friends with
- one day robin came to him, saying she wasn’t sure that she could be friends with you anymore
“what?” he’d exclaimed. “why? did they say something to you?”
“no! no, it’s just… i’m so head over heels and i don’t know if i can sit here with my feelings knowing that they’ll never be reciprocated. honestly, steve, it physically pains me.”
“…you know y/n likes girls, right?”
“that’s so not funny.”
“i’m serious, robin. just ask. i’m pretty sure they have a crush on you too. they look at you like you hung the moon.”
- so next time you’re at scoops, she gathers up her courage and asks
“hey, y/n?”
“yeah?”
you knew she was nervous as soon as you looked at her. cracking her fingers, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. she can barely look you in the eye, and when she briefly manages to, her usually sparkling blue eyes are clouded with anxiety. “i um… i have a question, and you don’t have to answer it but—“
“robin, it’s fine,” you say quickly. you pause what you were working on so you can give her your full attention.
she takes a deep breath before quickly saying, “do you like girls? like, how steve does?”
you blink. it takes you a second to process what she said due to how fast she’d spoken. you tense what it dawns on you. “uh… yeah? you’re not gonna like… tell me to burn in hell, right?”
“no!” she says, a bit loud. “no, of course not. it’s just— i was talking to steve, and he told me, but i didn’t believe him, so he told me to just ask you—“
“robin, relax,” you say, putting a gentle hand on her arm. your tone is gentle in an attempt to calm both her and yourself down. “it’s not a big deal unless you make it one.”
“i have a crush on you!” she blurts, immediately slapping a hand over her mouth.
you blink. “what?”
“i thought you had a crush on steve, which is why i didn’t say anything, and i was also a little bit afraid that you’d hate me, but i don’t— i can’t keep this from you. i feel like you deserve to know, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, i don’t care, but i hope we can still be friends.”
again, it takes you a second to process everything that was said. “you thought i would hate you?”
“we don’t exactly live in the most gay-friendly area ever.”
“i thought it was pretty obvious i was head over heels. that’s what steve was always teasing me about.” you’re suddenly very aware of everything— the feeling of the cold counter you’re leaning on, the rattling of gates as shops continue to close, the boobs drawn on robin’s bright red converse.
“are you… serious?”
“of course i’m serious, robin.”
she visibly relaxes. “i thought steve was fucking with me.”
“i thought steve was fucking with me when he told me to ask you out,” you say, smiling.
“god, he’s such a dick,” she laughs, running a hand over her face.
you can’t help but agree. “so… i mean, if you’re down… we could go to the movies this weekend?”
her previously dull eyes have regained their sparkle. “i’d love to. you can pick the movie and time, just let me know when.”
“it’s a date.”
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noteguk · 4 years
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any way you want it | kth | m
— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 
— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 
— words; 6.6k
— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 
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Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 
To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 
But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.
As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 
Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 
With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 
Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 
The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 
But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 
Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 
Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 
Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 
You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 
Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.
You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 
You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 
Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 
You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 
“Yes…”
“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”
“How was the talk?” He asked. 
You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”
He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 
“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”
“And?” He instigated. 
With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”
Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 
You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”
“What? There’s more?”
“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”
Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”
You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”
“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 
“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 
Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”
At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”
Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 
He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”
You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 
If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 
“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”
You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 
“How’s that possible?” he asked. 
“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”
There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 
“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”
“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  
You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”
“I can make you cum too, if you want.”
You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”
He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”
“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”
Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 
You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”
“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”
“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”
“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 
You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 
And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 
But you also kind of didn’t care. 
You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 
Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 
You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 
Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 
There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 
Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 
He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 
The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 
It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”
You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”
He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  
You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 
Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 
Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 
“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 
You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 
“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 
“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 
“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 
Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 
He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”
You nodded. “What is it?” 
Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 
One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 
He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 
“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.
But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 
And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.
Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 
You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 
It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 
He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 
It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 
He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 
“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”
And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 
There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 
With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 
“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 
Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 
He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 
Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 
Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 
“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 
He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 
With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 
You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 
Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 
“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 
“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 
Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 
“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 
You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 
“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 
You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 
Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 
Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 
“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 
Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 
“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 
“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 
You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 
He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 
Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 
“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 
Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 
“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 
“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 
“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 
Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 
“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”
Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 
“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 
Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 
“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 
You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 
But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 
“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”
You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 
And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 
There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 
Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”
“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”
“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 
Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 
There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 
The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 
“Yeah?”
“How many dates have you been on?”
You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”
Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”
“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”
He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”
5K notes · View notes
thefanficmonster · 3 years
Note
Heyyy can you do a headcanon with penguinz0 where his s/o comes out to him a bisexual :)
Of course, hun! Hope you enjoy the headcanons 💕
Pairing: Penguinz0 x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing, Mild Nervousness/Anxiety prior to coming out
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
- You and Charlie have been together since senior year in high school
- Since then you've had a lot of figuring out to do
- Neither of you stayed the same after graduating, of course, you both started being more mature and serious about your relationship and about life in general
- You worked on finding yourselves and understanding what made you you
- It wasn't easy, the journey of self-discovery is a difficult one, one people don't usually know how to start
- But you knew exactly what would be your first step of the way, accepting your sexuality
- Having moved out of your parents' house at nineteen when you and Charlie skipped state to go to college where you moved in together, you were no longer worried about their reaction
- You have a stable job and steady income that you can always rely on, no matter how south things go
- To be perfectly honest, you weren't too worried about Charlie's reaction
- Ok, you were pretty nervous to tell him that you'd finally found a name to your attraction, which is bisexual, but you knew there was no reason to be
- He's the most chill person you've ever met and, despite his demeanor, he's the biggest softie but that's only reserved for you
- He's also one of the most open-minded people ever so with all the pieces put together the end result confirmed that you had nothing to worry about
- But you couldn't help yourself
- You knew it'd keep eating away at you until you told him
- So when you did sit him down to talk, you couldn't bring yourself to beat around the bush cause you'd be the one to get mentally beaten up in the process
- “Ok so...I’m bisexual....”
- Charlie looked confused and not confused as to you being bisexual but regarding the fearful glint in your eyes
- “And?” Was his reply
- He honestly expected you to be breaking up with him or telling him that there was a spider in the bathroom, either or
- You know, he expected to have his world shattered
- Just as you were about to speak up again he beat you to it, “Wait, did I make you realize how men are trash?”
- This made you laugh before you could stop yourself with the reminder that his had to be a serious conversation
- “No, you dumbass. I just thought I’d let you know. I mean, I’ve known since high school I just never thought it was an actual thing. Maybe the girls in the halls were just beautiful and I was simply acknowledging that but...”
- “But you were attracted to them, and that’s perfectly fine.” Charlie caught the sentence where you trailed off with it, “I don’t know how you thought I’d react. Something along the lines of: You shall go to the praying closet this instant, Y/N L/N!”
- There he went cracking you up again
- “Chill, Margaret White. Remind me to never watch ‘Carrie’ with you ever again.” You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, the result of your laughter and relief
- “No, but jokes aside, I will support you always, with everything and anything! I never want to see you that freaked out to tell me anything ever again. If it’s a problem, we’ll fix it together. If it’s something personal like this, I accept confessions like a fucking priest. So, never, ever again, hesitate when you have something weighing on your chest.”
- All you could do was nod, that feeling of a boulder being lifted off your shoulder being overwhelmingly relieving
- Before you knew it you had pressed your lips to his and he happily reciprocated
- When your lungs started complaining at the lack of air, you were forced to pull away
- And you decided for the last one-liner to be yours
- “Oh and about what you said - you’re too sexy to be a priest.”
159 notes · View notes
mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Fake Fiancée
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.
Category: SMUT (18+)
Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)
Word Count: 7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰
***
I've always loved the rain.
And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.
The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.
I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.
It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.
And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.
Like I said, blessing in disguise.
After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.
Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.
That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.
I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.
The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"
I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"
"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"
"A beer?"
"You got it."
I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.
One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.
Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.
Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.
Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.
And I had just the plan.
I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.
"Hey, could I get another?"
***
"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."
"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."
I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"
"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."
I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.
But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.
I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.
One hour...
One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"
It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.
Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.
And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.
One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.
I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.
"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.
"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...
He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.
Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.
As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."
His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.
Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?
But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"
"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.
"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"
I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.
She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."
She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.
What the fu—
"Who're you talking with?"
Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.
"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.
I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.
The man was right to be suspicious.
"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."
Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."
And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."
While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.
It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.
If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.
The thought made me all warm again.
"Y—You didn't have to do—"
She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"
I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."
"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."
I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"
She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?
"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...
A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"
"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."
With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"
The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."
See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."
I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.
"So, Spencer, what do you do?"
I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."
Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"
"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."
"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."
I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?
Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.
"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."
As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."
This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."
Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.
"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"
I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."
Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."
***
I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.
I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...
Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.
And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.
Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.
After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.
Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.
"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.
He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.
The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.
And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.
I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.
"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.
Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."
It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."
Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."
I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.
And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.
Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.
"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."
He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.
Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.
Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.
So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"
His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."
"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.
"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."
God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."
"Re—really?"
"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"
"Of course..."
"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"
"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.
"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"
He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."
"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."
Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.
And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.
I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.
He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."
I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."
The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.
"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"
I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.
So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.
"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.
"Uh huh," he breathed in response.
I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."
With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.
"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."
He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.
"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"
"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."
I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"
Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.
I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.
Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.
I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."
Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.
Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.
"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."
I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.
Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.
I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.
"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."
"It was my pleasure, Doctor."
We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.
That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.
But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.
"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.
He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"
"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."
He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"
"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."
He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"
I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"
He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."
My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"
Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."
As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.
Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.
And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.
***
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pastafossa · 2 years
Note
Hi pasta!
Good luck with the storm and also fingers crossed your fiberglass nightmare ends soon <3
I wanted to start writing some matt x reader one shots, but I’m kinda new to writing. Do you have any tips on how to start and actually finish anything?
Ty! I know the room will be worth it in the end because it desperately needed some insulation, but damnnn this is just a nightmare that I'd like to be over LOL.
I can give some tips on starting and finishing, absolutely!
Remember that there's no real pressure with fanfic - it's either for fun or something you can use to hone your skills. This means that either way, it's ok if it's not perfect. You win just by writing, learning something new, or enjoying yourself, so try to remember that if the anxiety monster grabs hold and wants you to give up.
There will be a point while you're writing where you'll likely think what you're writing sucks and should be burned. This happens with every art form, whether it's painting or writing or wood carving. Just shove the screaming voice in a box and tell yourself you can fix it in editing (truth).
Tropes are fun for a reason, so my advice is to start small and pick a beloved trope you can do a fun little drabble on where there's an obvious endpoint. Think Matt having the sniffles and needing care, or him and reader trying to bake Christmas cookies (flirtations and smut optional). These have the benefits of having a clear end which can help when you're worried about finishing. The cookies get baked, or Matt starts feeling better, so there's always this neat little finish line you can direct yourself towards.
You can also grab something from a prompt list! It can be a kiss prompt list, or a hurt/comfort one, smut, fluff, etc. Things with action generally work nicely for one-shots; quotes can be a little harder, but don't be afraid to look at those if you want to try!
If you can't figure out how to start, consider trying this: skip a lot of the initial stuff. If they're baking cookies, you can jump right into, say, Matt coming home to Reader who's already got the ingredients out and ready to mix, and the oven turned on. It'll be made pretty clear in the scene and via dialogue what's happening, so you don't need to include grocery shopping and deciding and finding the recipe, etc etc. This way you can jump right to the fun stuff.
Don't worry about wordcount. When you're new to something, it's alright if it's short, although you might end up going longer!. If you were playing a game and starting at a low level, smacking at a dragon with 50k hitpoints doesn't make a whole lot of sense. You start with rats you can easily shank in 3 hits as you level up. If you have a clear end point (boom, cookies), and a topic you know you can kill, then all you have to focus on is getting there.
When you're writing, just try to write. Let it all flow, get the words out, run with your story idea. I know some people argue about editing as they go, but in my experience, this doesn't work. Editing as you go slows you down, it makes you second guess yourself, and you begin to doubt what you're writing. You're way more likely to stop writing. What you want is word vomit, because absolutely everything can be fixed in editing. This is what I do for TRT and one shots, and it's served me well. Spelling errors? Ignore them. Clumsy sentences? Fix them later. Get your idea out while the muse is hot and save editing for the next day after everything is done.
I hope these tips help! The biggest thing is honestly to just jump. When I first started writing fic as a preteen, my stuff was about the quality level you'd expect, but that's just because I was new to it, and I'd never have gotten to where I am if I'd stopped. Just takes some learning and leveling up. <3
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ymiwritesstuff · 3 years
Text
Breaking Point
Here’s the Peter Parker fic I promised and lemme tell you, I had a LOT of fun with this. This is my first time writing for Peter and I’m trying to do the symbiote’s influence on him justice and I hope you guys like this as well!! Please enjoy!
Marvel
Symbiote!Peter Parker x (Implied)Fem!Reader
(I had Tobey!Peter in mind when writing this but this honestly works with the other two as well!!)
Summary: Something wasn’t right with Peter. And after trying to painfully endure his new demeanor for far too long, you can’t take it anymore.
Notes: ANGST, Swearing, brief descriptions of violence, noncon kiss, mentions of cheating, general symbiote shit, alternatively a hint of bully maguire if you squint/imagine tobey!peter ( i fucking love those memes what do you expect LMAO), NOT proof-read bitch its 3 AM gimme a break
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Something was wrong. No, something was different. Alarmingly so.
Ever since you saw him in that cursed pitch-black suit that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, he just wasn’t the same. Something had changed, it was as if he was a completely different person. His usually adorably awkward face now housed something in it that made your stomach turn. He had become bitter, arrogant and even downright vulgar with his words and you had no idea why.
Though one thing you did know was that this wasn’t your Peter Parker.
Every night he would sneak into your room through a window he was far too familiar with, crawl beside you in bed and somehow pretend that nothing had changed. But you felt it. The way he’d hold you. It wasn’t needy and almost desperate as it sometimes used to be, no, it was obsessive, hungry even and it tore you apart.
Why was this happening?
You thought about it. Perhaps too much. Every day you wondered what could have happened to your Peter. The incriminating articles of Daily Bugle certainly didn’t help the issue as for the first time ever, you almost agreed with them.
Almost.
You held onto some hope that this was a passing phase, something that would compose itself on its own. Maybe something was weighing down on him, though you questioned why he wouldn’t tell you about it. He told you everything, hell, he had even revealed his vigilante identity a mere three months after he got bit by that spider, and this apparently was something he’d keep his mouth shut about?
You loved him, you truly did. But you couldn’t stand seeing him like that. He was brutal, that sickening confidence of his had completely overtaken your nerdy, charming Peter you had fallen in love with, and if you were completely honest with yourself, you didn’t know for how long you could endure it.
Tonight, you wouldn’t be at home. You couldn’t. The thought of Peter, who had become a stranger to you, aggressively opening your window again and laying down next to you with that sickeningly strong grip on your waist brought you so much anxiety you were sure you would break down. So you opted to go out. It may have been dangerous, but at this point, anything was better than seeing whatever it was that he had turned into.
The muffled sounds of thunder rumbled in the darkened clouds and your eyes followed the noise upwards. It would rain soon. With a sigh, you pressed onwards, not really sure what your destination was. You were certain that by this point, Peter had found your bedroom empty, and was most likely looking for you at this very moment. You just hoped he wouldn’t find you, at least not just yet.
You shuddered at the thought of him, which was something you could have never expected. Peter had been so good for you, always looking out for you and trying to get you out of harm's way. He knew the risks of him being Spider-Man and seeing you and you always told him that you’d stay with him no matter what. Yet the thought of losing you plagued him, you could see it. 
Now, however, you seemed an afterthought. Aside from his strange obsessiveness towards you, his mind was set on something else. He was out more, more than he ever had, and even during the day it seemed that he only ever came to you when he was bored or didn’t have anything, or anyone, else to do.
It pained you. The thought of him possibly seeing other women crossed your mind but you didn’t dare to believe it because somewhere deep down you knew or wishfully thought he cared about you.
A police siren in the distance briefly caught your attention and immediately you wondered if he was taking care of it. Though, if the recent rumors about the black-suited Spider-Man were to be believed, he most likely sat this one out and took his anger out on something else.
You shook your head at the thought, picking up your pace to try to brush him off your mind for at least this one night. Your heart had been beaten down enough.
As you passed yet another dark alleyway that always made shivers run down your spine, from the corner of your eye you could see some sort of movement, followed by guttural groans of pain and discomfort. You should have ran, but when you saw that familiar outline of the black suit you loathed bathing under the moonlight, you stopped.
The assailant was down, grunting in pain at the vicious kicks he delivered, his harsh movements fueled by such a rage even a blind person could see it. 
He could have left it at that, the thief, or whatever the person on the ground was in his eyes, had already lost. All he had to do was to maybe web them against the brick wall and leave their fate in the hands of the authorities as he had always done, but there he was, mercilessly assaulting them by driving his foot into their abdomen, furious cries and grunts leaving his covered mouth.
And you watched.
Everything reasonable within you was screaming at you, demanding for you to get out of there, but your legs didn’t carry out that order. Instead, it felt as though your heart shattered into millions of pieces at the sight of him.
Whoever that was, it was not Peter.
Once he was satisfied with the damage he had dealt to the person who inevitably had passed out, it didn’t take long for his enhanced senses to kick in and he soon came face to face with your saddened expression.
You watched as he pulled off his mask, pants and huffs leaving his lips as a result of his corrupt heroism. He approached you and somehow you managed to glue your eyes on his darkened ones.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, that voice of his sounding tense and bothered. You tried your best to keep yours even.
“I didn’t want to be home tonight.” Your blunt answer made him sigh and shake his head in what could only be described as disappointment.
“It’s not safe.” He tried to reason with you using those exact words you had heard so many times. This time though, the tone in which he said them was rid of the usual softness and gentleness.
Your eyes found the ground as you couldn’t bear to look at his face that was so distant and unfamiliar. Your lip quivered and it took all the power within you not to shed a tear in front of him. Peter’s gaze softened and he placed his covered hands on your upper arms.
“Are you okay, bunny?” He tried to catch your eyes but you kept them low, not a single word leaving your sealed lips. His hold on you was firm and you nearly flinched when he tightened it slightly.
Peter sighed softly, standing upright and removing his hands from your arms, much to your relief. A slight grin then tugged at one corner of his mouth.
“How about we get out of here, hm?” He leaned in again, that menacing aura that emanated from him making you feel like you were being suffocated.
“Let me take you home, bunny. Then we can-” When he tried to put his hands on you again, you quickly pushed him away.
“Not with you!” You snapped at him, taking a few cautious steps away from him and finally letting the impending tears fall from your eyes. Peter’s face became filled with shock and confusion at your outburst, but to you he looked almost offended.
“I don’t want you in my house anymore.” Your voice died down, reduced to a mere shaky whimper that most people could barely hear. In his disbelief, Peter let out a slight laugh as he spoke:
“W-what are you talking about? Why are you suddenly-”
“Because of you!”
No matter how you tried, you couldn’t suppress the sobs that escaped your throat and the more you looked at his confused expression, the more frustrated you became.
“It’s like- like I don’t know you anymore!” All the pent-up grievances within you exploded and shot through your lips in the most vicious fashion and in this moment, you wished you had done it sooner.
“You- You’ve become so violent, so rude and just-” You ran a hand through your hair and let out a heavy sigh from your heaving chest to try to make some sense of the situation.
“You’re a total fucking asshole!”
You were certain the whole of New York heard your outburst but at this moment, you didn’t care. Everyone deserved to hear that Peter Parker, the shy boy you thought you loved, was a cold-hearted jerk.
Peter’s eyes darkened at your words, and you saw his jaw visibly clench in building anger. You took it as a sign to calm down slightly, so you did, but took one, daring step towards him, just enough so you could harshly collide your palm with his chest.
“It’s because of this fucking suit isn’t it?”
Peter averted your gaze, and if you weren’t so consumed by fury, you may have noticed the underlying regret behind his eyes. Though he was upset at your words, his mind altered by whatever was behind the suit, deep down he, the real him, was devastated at your reaction and immediately chided himself for hurting you.
“Well? Anything to say for yourself?”
Frustrated at his lack of response, you pushed him again. Hard enough to make him stumble back even if a little bit.
His eyes shot back to look at you, the foreign force within the onyx suit making him suddenly grab your wrist tightly. You winced.
“Take your hand off me.” His voice was so cold, so incredibly hostile it made a cool shiver run down your spine. With quivering lips and bloodshot eyes you yanked your hand free from his strong grip and retreated from him again.
Something shifted within Peter as he looked at you, that anguished expression upon your face digging itself into the most vulnerable places inside him. He wanted to apologize, but his bloated ego mixed with the symbiote’s dominance was making it impossible. For the first time probably ever, he was regretting ever putting on that damn suit.
“What should I do then, huh?” He asked, raising his hands slightly. The conflicting emotions within him raging like a storm.
He was torn. The suit made him feel powerful, it only enhanced his already impressive abilities and he initially thought that he could make use of these enhancements, but now that he realized the damage he had caused, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
You wiped your reddened nose with your sleeve and looked at him dead in those corrupt eyes of his.
“Choose.” You took in a shaky breath. “I can’t stop you from being Spider-Man. And I sure as hell can’t tell you how to live your life or fight crime.” Your voice finally regained its confidence as you continue:
“But I don’t want to be anywhere near you if you continue to behave like someone I know you’re not.” You shook your head, tears threatening to burst through again.
“This,” You pointed at the unconscious criminal behind him with your glossy eyes. “Is not you, Peter.”
The brunette bit his lower lip, something in his core twitching uncontrollably at your words. He knew you were right, somewhere deep in his heart he knew, but in his mind that had been taken over, he was outraged, insulted even.
“It’s either me,” Your saddened eyes locked with him again. “Or the suit.”
That was all you said before turning around, ready to begin your journey home without him.
Peter’s head was spinning. Everything you had spilled out swirled in his mind and it was tearing him apart. It was as if two compelling forces, the symbiote and the real him, were trying to pull him into two different directions.
Get rid of it.
No! You’re not strong enough!
You’re hurting people.
He desperately wanted to show you that he cared about you, that he loved you more than anything else. So he did the only thing that he, in his confused and chaotic state of mind, could think of.
With rapid steps, he caught up to you, turned you around aggressively and pressed his lips against yours with such force you almost fell over.
Immediately, your first instinct was to push him away, the hungry kiss setting off multiple alarms in your head, but your efforts died down as his grip showed no signs of easing. That’s when you began to panic.
You tried to call his name against the kiss but that only gave him an opportunity to deepen it, which only made your situation worse. Your heart slammed against your poor ribcage as you tried to squirm out of his inhumanly strong hold. This wasn’t Peter.
In the midst of the struggle, you managed to clamp your front teeth on his lip. Hard. That was enough to finally pull him away from you, a cry of pain leaving his now bloody lips. You wasted no time stumbling out of his hold and ran as quickly as you could, tears once again pooling at your eyes and the metallic taste of blood heavy in your mouth.
Once Peter recovered, he immediately realized his grave mistake. Something had taken over him, as it had often done recently, but never to this extent. He panted, running a trembling hand through his chocolate locks, the weight of his violation quickly settling in.
He strolled around the alleyway, chest heaving and head twisting in regret and anger. He had hurt you, he made you cry and now he had practically assaulted you.
No, this wasn’t happening.
A yell of pure agony ripped out of his lungs and he collided his fist with the brick wall, tears soon starting to prickle in his eyes as he finally came to his senses. The wall crumbled under his superhuman strength, leaving a permanent dent on it.
Peter grabbed his head with both hands, cursing at himself and his stupid suit he should have thrown out a long time ago.
The brewing rain slowly overtook the skies, thunder rumbling louder above and his tears mixed with the droplets that reached the ground. Peter had finally come to his senses.
But at the cost of hurting you in the worst way he could have ever imagined.
~
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persephoneyss · 3 years
Text
Doomeds.
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Pairing: Min Yoongi x f! Reader. Ft. Bts.
Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish, suspense.
Summary: ❝We are doomeds, wandering in eternal suffering.❞
Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / stalking on cameras, humiliation, unspecified forced marriage, n*n-c*n explicit sexual relations (on the reader), abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use, kidnapping, hitting, manipulation, dating previous trauma, alcoholism and depression (in Yoongi), accusations of infidelity, dub-con (in Yoongi's case), the reader is in school but is of legal age, death threats, really strange facts. Possibly this would qualify as dark fantasy since everything is so unrealistic.
Number of words: 10,000+
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︙Author's note: *sighs* This is the longest fic I've ever written, and I honestly don't know how it turned out because I didn't read it twice like I always do before publishing it. But my beautiful baby helped me correct, I hope you enjoy it and please read the warnings well, I do not want lawsuits. Thanks for being here!
(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)
Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.
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If they ever had to ask the reality of events it would be ... Unbelievable. Thinking of how just a simple action changes everything in an already established and perfect environment.
A life.
Your minutes, hours and days were the same under your criteria and eyesight, you study in the mornings, you work in the afternoons and you attend to your homework at night. It was a good routine that used to be repetitive at times, it was fun to follow, even more so in your part-time job.
You could meet many people working in one of the best cafes in the city, your classmate insisted too many times that you work with her saying that could recommend you and you should not even pass a test, they would only accept you for her.
It was a good opportunity and you accepted it with a smile, although she was long gone from work, you were still grateful for the good salary and health insurance that they gave you every month.
"An American coffee with a spoon of sugar and a green tea cake with cream on top." Your mouth and hand move in sync, the client nods silently. You smile, pointing out other details before asking what name you would give the order.
With a sigh, he name came out like a gust of light wind. "Min... Min Yoongi."
You write his name on the screen, the little receipt paper comes out of the machine. You hand it to him by brushing his hand with yours, strangely cold and pale. A chill runs through you but you ignore it, continuing with your work.
"Good Morning _____!" One of the employees greets you kindly, you correspond still concentrated on serving the mysterious stranger's coffee. "Do you have a request for me?"
"Oh, uh... Yeah, this is for table four."
Yun smiles taking the tray with Yoongi's coffee and cake, arriving at his table. The man's expression can be dazzled even under his black mask that covers half of his face, his eyes look for you before colliding with you. YYou refuse to play along, continuing with your work, you had a lot to do and wasting time flirting wouldn't really help you make money.
However, it became pointless trying to ignore him when he kept coming back day after day. Week after week. Tormenting your head, Yoongi was not the first nor the last handsome man you would see coming often, your work establishment was literally in a strategic area and not cheap, you knew that many men and women with money frequented them to drink a coffee or eat some delicacy, even sometimes they only came in to sit for a few hours attending to their affairs over the phone.
It was fine, it was comfortable. You weren't expecting too much, sitting behind a counter, always having to fake a smile despite being tired.
Perhaps it was the constant visits that led you to start a conversation with him. You had about an hour of rest, you prefer to spend those few moments sitting in front of the window of the premises eating any cake that was a few days before expiring to avoid paying for consumption, you felt comfortable in that place that seemed so far from all the other clients.
Until his voice interrupted once, he seemed as calm as ever. His gaze lost from you elsewhere avoiding making contact with you, nervous apparently. His rough and austere tone was changed to a bolder and lower one, asking if he could sit next to you for a few minutes.
"Sure, sit down... he's not busy." It was your answer without having any problem in sharing your place so secret, so comfortable. It was still just as safe even with him present.
And in much the same way, everything became a silent routine. You heeded his order, you took your rest next to him and then you both left at one point. The talks became more common, he being the first to ask about such insignificant things as the rise in the market in the country and how prices should start to rise in coffee as well.
You laughed, you really did it by getting his attention and sharing your reaction.
They both started laughing at how strange it all started, and it was always the perfect anecdote to tell their friends about how they met.
Everything was perfect, like a painting by a great artist, what you would see would be beautiful and cheerful colors, adorning both of you possibly holding hands with a smile and a loving expression from the man who was now your partner. Her pale skin and angelic face represented on beautiful thin paper, presented to the world as a painting that reflected a symbol of love between two souls met in a casual cafe and who wanted each other so much. Too much.
Yoongi was the clear representation of an ethereal person, casual and elegant, polite and kind, protective but not possessive. Simply to the target.
Your routine didn't change much after starting your relationship, you kept walking to your school in the mornings, you attended the cafeteria in the afternoons and you rested at night. Perhaps the only significant thing that you would get out of your boring schedule was your boyfriend's proposal about moving with him to the house of his best friend, almost a brother as he described it, and avoiding paying for your little apartment. You had made one and a thousand excuses, making Yoongi shut them all up.
"Jin is my brother, he would never take advantage of us. I already mentioned the proposal, about you... I have been living there for a few weeks, I assure you that you will be like family."
Family?
Your face relaxed for a few seconds, you had abandoned that feeling and sensation long ago since you moved from your home in your native country. Your mother used to call you every night but little by little that habit was lost, she also had her own problems and being aware of you as if you were a child was ridiculous.
"It's fine." It was your final decision, nervously you moved your hands in the air explaining what you would not accept.
Do not invade your privacy.
You had spent days thinking about how to introduce yourself to them, because apparently there would be more than just Jin, Yoongi and you in that house. Your things were scattered in boxes, you stood in the middle of the almost empty room still nervous about meeting new people and friends of your boyfriend.
That they were now family. Literally family.
The moving truck was parked in front of a large house, it had two stories and an incredibly large garden. More like a forest than an ordinary garden, you got out of the car trying to clean your clothes as much as possible and look presentable. Although it was difficult when your whole body was covered in dust after lifting the boxes.
"I'm not ready, Yoon." You say, containing your anxiety that vibrates to the surface of the skin within you.
Her hand gently brushed your cheek, giving you a bit of reassurance. "You look beautiful, they will accept you anyway." Her lips came up to yours, giving you a quick and soft kiss. "I just remember that I love you, and I know all my brothers will too because you are perfect."
You thanked the little compliment in a whisper, the door of the house opened just after the two of them left, you automatically showed a friendly smile approaching the first person to leave. He was a tall and rather handsome man, he seemed very well dressed to be indoors on a Sunday, more like he was going out to an important business meeting. He looked flawless and elegant.
"The suit was not necessary, Nam!" Shouted your boyfriend behind you mocking, the man laughed showing all the charm of him to your eyes.
"I'm Namjoon, Yoongi's friend. Nice to meet you... _____, right?"
"Yes, it's me. Sorry to see me so disastrous, it was a tiring day with the move."
Namjoon seemed like a very nice and incredibly understanding guy, his presence made you want to meet your boyfriend's other friends. You opened the door entering the house after Yoongi asked you to find your room to start carrying the other things, Namjoon stayed behind to help him, leaving you alone on your unknown route. You walk all over the place and you are surprised that you only walked through the living room, your eyes straying to a noise in the kitchen.
Curious.
You ignore it, continuing your way up, you read every name on the doors. Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All written brilliantly on each different door, you walk a few steps to one that says your name and you thank it with a sigh.
You weren't surprised by how big it was, everything inside that place seemed to be exorbitant and out of the ordinary.
"Oh, it must be you." You are surprised to hear a voice behind you, you turn around in fear before remaining calm. You recognized her face from a photo Yoongi had on her phone.
"Jimin?" You ask with fear of being wrong.
"It's me, it's nice to finally meet you. Jin-hyung said you're moving in a few days, I didn't think it would be so soon." His voice seemed to be calm but there was a hidden question. Why? Why were you there?
You take a few uncomfortable steps back. "It really was, but ... I thought it would be better to do it today that I don't have classes, plus Yoongi doesn't work this day and it seemed like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if bother you."
"No you don't. it's okay, Welcome." With that one simple word he left.
You thought you would have a longer talk with him but you weren't expecting too much, they didn't even know each other and you plan to chat with him like they were old acquaintances. Well, naive.
It seemed strange to you that no one else showed up in the whole house, even when you were uploading the last boxes of the move no one seemed to be a little curious to meet you. Aside from the already friendly Namjoon and the reserved Jimin.
"Yoon" You get his attention, he smiles at you taking the sheets out of your suitcase and making your makeshift bed ready for the night. "Do your friends work today?"
"I guess so, they really don't spend a lot of time together or at home." Explain without noticing your downcast face. You nod, putting the issue aside and concentrating your eyes on arranging your clothes. "Hey... Okay, you can meet them all at dinner today."
Your chest clenches in anguish, "Dinner?!"
"Yes, darling. It's the only time they meet all day, when Jin-hyung cooks for us especially on days like these where we have pleasant surprises."
You purse your lips annoyed, Yoongi smiles kissing your forehead so carefully and lovingly that it melts your senses. The mere presence of him made you want to continue with him forever, you relax for a few seconds hugging his body in silence. They both stay like this, with nothing to say but telling each other everything at the same time.
The thought of ever letting go scares you.
You wait several hours, still sitting in the same place where Yoongi left you. You should be presentable for dinner, you take a quick shower before running to change into a nice comfortable dress, you try not to overdo it but also not show disinterest. From the stairs you hear everyone's mixed voices, chatting animatedly.
"Honey, come here." Yoongi watches you, being the only one to notice that you were peeking in the shadows still unsure of interrupting.
You say hello by walking a few steps until you reach your boyfriend's side, you present yourself the best you can. Everyone falls silent, Namjoon smiles at you just like he did before. Jin interrupts the moment where no one seemed to have anything to say about you, or if he wants to want to introduce himself.
"Today we have a special guest, the dear girlfriend of our brother. I introduce myself, I am Jin the official cook of this family." His body bends down with an exaggeratedly long bow, proud of his words. Jimin rolls his eyes, while his other siblings just choose to tease. "On Yoongi's orders we made her favorite dish, so I don't want any complaints of any kind about the food. I'm looking at you Jungkook."
You are surprised how well everything is going, you feel praised when your favorite food is in front of you. She looked just as elegant, as if you were eating in a five-star restaurant and at a luxurious table with silk tablecloths.
Jungkook still stayed away from the talks, preferring to eat quietly and fiddle with his phone. Hoseok was more animated, asking about you and exaggerating anecdotes that happened with his childhood friends. He moved you that he will still remember all that after years. Namjoon vaguely drew your attention with book recommendations when you commented on your love of reading, Jin quietly continued eating in complete tranquility, Jimin thanked the food and just left.
Taehyung... He seemed interesting to you, he was looking at you all the time with narrowed eyes and when Jimin got up and walked away, he followed closely with a small and almost hidden smile.
You had a strange feeling inside what they called home.
"I-I... I need to use the bathroom." You say goodbye by wiping your lips with a napkin before quickly walking behind them both. Something attracted you to want to know more, as if they were leaving clues knowing that curiosity killed the cat and that you wanted to be the one.
Your steps were quiet, even more so when you tried not to be noticed . You went upstairs listening to their voices whispering and then... An obscene moan was clearly heard, Jimin seemed to laugh in the air.
Your hands shook thinking of opening the door and seeing what was happening. And without knowing it, you had fallen into the same network of attraction as them.
You curse yourself biting your tongue and cheek until they bleed, sure that you were going to make a big and heavy mistake. Minutes later you are going down the stairs back to the table but no one is waiting for you anymore, the table was just as spotless and clean. You are pleasantly surprised to learn that they don't treat you like a guest and that they don't wait too long for you. Maybe they had things to do, however you feel a chill when silence comes.
Where were?
You look around the yard, but no one is outside. Neither in the kitchen and less in the room where you had already walked twice. You catch the sound of drums in your ears rumbling loudly, you close your eyes in a daze for a few seconds until in an instant it goes away, and then everything comes back to itself. You hear their voices upstairs, chatting animatedly for the second time.
"Where were you sweetie? Are you okay?"
You nod still confused. How did they... When was that... You were really fine? You refuse to fall into paranoia and lie down next to Yoongi, as they continue their conversation with each other. Your head keeps spinning with the fresh memories you have, but they seem to disappear second by second and it scares you, you open your eyes without wanting to fall asleep yet but it is as difficult as breathing.
You fall into the dark abyss of sleep, feeling the same chill.
Your gaze is lost in the gray sky, you are cold and your body is swaying. Your eyes move restlessly observing that you are under the snow and a person holds you in his arms through the forest, walking at a slow and safe pace.
It's fine. Are you okay.
Wake up. Yoongi greets you from the door of your now room, you try to regulate your breathing thinking that he would notice your overwhelmed state and he would worry, but no. He is as calm as ever, relaxed even.
"Good morning beautiful, it's time for breakfast. Jin-hyung made your favorite." And with that last sentence she is shifting away, closing the door behind he.
You go down the stairs ready to go, your backpack resting on your shoulder. The table is just as full as at dinner, Jimin seemed very tired trying not to fall asleep, you watch him for a few seconds before looking at Taehyung who ignores you taking his cup of ... Coffee. You approach making him recoil alarmed and disgusted, you check the cup realizing that it is the same recipe that you use in the cafeteria.
Like them?
You look up noticing that, you were uncomfortable, Taehyung takes a few steps away from your body almost leaning against his, still sitting in his chair. You apologize to him making me sigh irritated, still ashamed you apologize again without eating or serving anything, just leaving through the front door.
Your journey is reflective. You forget, dream and recognize, that was the pattern you were following, everything seemed so strange and deep down gloomy, you feel the already casual chill running through your entire body almost like a warning.
Your seat in class was empty waiting, ready for you. Ari greets you, being your table companion and friend.
"Hey, intense night?" She jokes, you look shaking his head. She laughs pointing your neck. "You have... something there."
She frowns even more confused, her face leaves her smile aside and she starts looking at her things until she takes out a small mirror and she hands it to you. You look with horror at a large red bruise painting on your skin, it seemed painful but you had not even noticed or felt it. You touch it still scared and nothing, it doesn't hurt or it seems real.
You take a deep breath before lying with silly chatter, "I had an accident, but I'm fine. I had forgotten I was there, it was nothing serious."
Ari seems worried but in the end she forgets it by returning to the same kind and joking attitude of her, but her gaze drops from second by second to your neck making you cover yourself uncomfortable. Who? It can't be Yoongi, he was always very calm in that regard. You think terrified, your hand goes up to touch it and this time you manage to feel a sharp pain.
You have to cover it with the collar of your shirt so that no customer will notice it and avoid staining the reputation of the cafeteria, you smile nervously taking orders as fast as you can and avoiding looks. Yun greets you like every day, arriving at his work time. You spend hours begging for the clock to advance faster, the night sky appears and the doors close, you clear the last counter before you can finally show your neck again and breathe.
"That's a big problem." Yun whispers looking at the horrible mark, you nod with a sigh giving the same stupid excuse you told Ari. "You should use a little makeup to cover it up, I think it will help you a lot."
You think about it for a few seconds before deciding what you would do. You bow to him with a bow after he offered to close in your place and finish the remaining work for you.
You come home with a smile, you greet Namjoon who is reclining on the couch in the living room watching something on TV. You wait a few seconds but you do not receive a small or accidental look, you approach a few steps to repeat it again but you only get him to get up and go upstairs closing the door of his room apparently with a door slam. What the hell? You think covering your face with your hands looking for some comfort.
Everything was happening inside you, it was like a whirlpool sweeping away your sanity. Were you going crazy? Or you were just thinking a lot about nothing.
You try to draw a picture of your situation, but the only thing that repeats is the constant painting of Yoongi and you together.
"Yoongi!" You say to yourself with a smile, you drop your backpack running towards his room, wanting to see him after such a day.
Your hopes fade like air, everything within the space him screams 'he', but he is not there. You check the safe time that he should be home at that moment. You hear Jin's voice screaming from below about dinner ready, you sigh losing your appetite at those moments.
You lie on your bed checking your cell phone in case there was a message from Yoongi warning about he delay but nothing. You feel empty for some strange reason, but there was nothing different about it now.
If I had been more attentive and conscientious, you would have noticed that two more people other than Yoongi and you were missing from the table. Jin smiles sitting in his same place leaving your plate not caring without you being there with them, his smile never fades even when all his brothers are sitting silently eating and looking at your empty place so intensely that it was terrifying, he squeezes the cutlery in his hand without wanting to break the tradition in his family.
Dinners are sacred and no one should be missing. There will be no discussions or complaints, that's what the rest of the time is for.
That was what her mother said, sitting at the table in her old home containing her anger at seeing her husband so calm after having been unfaithful once more. Not on the table, not on the table.
Not on the table, honey.
Jimin opened the last bottle with a little satisfaction, poured another glass before handing it to his friend who was only glaring at the ground.
"She's not like that... I know her." Repeating the same stupid prayer for hours, Taehyung rolled his eyes trying to calm his annoyance, looking at his other friend insisting that he help him.
"Yoongi-hyung you saw it yourself, she had that... That mark. you didn't do it, maybe Tae is right and she-..."
"Not!" I scream interrupting what to him were lies. "_____ she's my girlfriend, she's not like that. I know her ... she loves me! She loves me! Do you understand?" Says exalted, holding the shirt of his friend who closed his mouth immediately, Jimin noticed that same reflection of anger in him and knew it was better to leave it for now.
Taehyung pushed the drunk Yoongi away from his side, making him release him and repeat the same phrase as in his state, he tried to believe himself.
The door to your room was opened and the smell of alcohol invaded you, making you look disgusted. You closed your eyes without wanting to see him, his body fell to the side of your bed approaching your body so slowly that the anxiety inside you doubled.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered.
His hands rested around you, giving you that warmth so familiar and comfortable in your gray days. A sob was heard while you lost yourself in your own thought, you watch it melt into your arms crying and without wanting to tell you why.
"It hurts." It's the only thing it says. But... Why?
You wake up. Just like a week ago, days had passed and it seemed like your skin kept accumulating horrible marks all over the place. You even went to consult a doctor but he only insisted that something... Or someone did them with such fury that it was incredible that a piece of skin will not be torn off by the force of his suction.
You touched the last mark that came, it was dangerously close to your crotch, you try to hide the others with makeup but they were still visible at a short distance.
You went down the stairs to see them all again, you greet with regret taking the first thing you find. Your mug had your name written on it, it was a rather curious gift from Jin after your melancholic night with Yoongi days ago, he apologized explaining that he felt bad after hearing all the sobs and apologies. For a moment you thought it was something exaggerated but he kept insisting that he felt bad about himself, not with Yoongi who was almost his brother or with you, with him.
You accepted it without wanting to show your dislike for his selfishness and narcissism, thanking him so softly that he hardly heard you.
The special drink that morning was coffee... Americano. You felt insecure to drink it, and you just put it aside.
Same recipe.
Yoongi looked at you for a few seconds before smiling fondly, and you just looked away, leaving him with a confused face as you walk out the door so quickly that he can hardly feel you.
He sighed before being drawn to Jimin's grin-adorned face, he shrugged, hinting at his silent opinion. She is not faithful to you Yoongi, why do you keep waiting for something good? Only looks at her body, her attitude and who she surrounds herself with, it is a classic of womens. You will know that she is a fox hidden under her sheepsuit, just observing her more and you never leave her.
The marks on your body, your cold attitude made him more and more suspicious and fall for Taehyung's profound words. She bit his lip, refusing to spy on your life away from him... Out of his sight.
But he really wasn't doing anything wrong, just observing. In his now dirty head, everything was valid if he could know the truth.
You did the same thing you always told him on his nights where they stayed up talking about his heavy days. You went to school, to work, and then home. Nothing changed your version.
I try to focus on your friends, there was only one girl you spent more time with in your classes and after them. He researched everything about his life, but he had nothing to worry about after learning that he had a boyfriend. He passed your work, standing outside for hours waiting to see you do something dirty or guilty, but you never seemed to move.
You just served the orders and then kindly said goodbye to the customers. He felt guilty for doing something so low to you, until he saw you.
To you.
Your smile grew when one of the workers who was your partner approached your place in the box to whisper something in your ear, you left your place following him towards the warehouse.
Anger consumed him quickly, refusing to continue standing there observing the obvious, possibly he was being irrational and he knew it but the constant insinuations of Jimin. The conversations with Taehyung, his words, his suspicions, the pleased looks from they when he fell back at his feet asking them to tell him what to do with you.
With his damn relationship.
Where were you and him. Not them. You and he.
He opened the door to your room and started going through your things like a degenerate, something must have made him sure that you were cheating on him. Something, a letter, a note, a gift from him, or a simple cheap jewel.
This was your Yoongi? You were clearly looking at another subject.
"Yoon..." You started, his eyes coldly piercing you. He looked different, he was looking at you but you didn't feel safe being so close. "What are you doing?"
"What do you think I do?" He asked how else he will not point to the obvious, for a moment you thought that even if it was, out of respect or dignity, he would try to deny it or find another explanation for his actions so offensive to you. "Where is?"
"Where is what?" You claim, starting to get angry, his eyes leave you again as he continues searching through your drawers, dropping everything to the floor with thudding noises. You get closer trying to push it away but you only get rejection. "Stop it, Yoongi."
"Not until you say so."
You freeze without knowing what he meant by the latter, you take his arm to stop him but you only receive a push that makes you back away this time scared by the force of his attack. "Enough!" You claim this time by making him look at you with his cold eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about and why you're doing this, but enough."
"Then say it..." You shout again that you don't know what he wants you to say, you even curse furiously making him come closer to support your shoulders with his hands bringing you closer to his face. "Say it damn it! Say you're cheating on me with that bastard son of a bitch!"
You feel the pain of his grip, you sob, begging him to release you but are ignored as he continues to ask you to say so. You refuse to lie, especially with something so degrading.
Jin hears the screams as he continues serving the dinner desserts, Jungkook strangely puts aside his phone for a few minutes to thank him with a small toast and a smile that was rarely seen on him.
"The dessert tonight is sweeter than usual."
Jimin raises his glass with a bright smile, Namjoon adjusts his tie tied perfectly around his neck as he sips from his glass, Hoseok laughs eating the delicious cake with enthusiasm.
Curious, a green tea cake with cream on top.
"It's a shame Yoongi-hyung misses out on dessert." Taehyung speaks pretending a pout on his lips, playing with his spoon with the cream on her plate. "It is especially exquisite today."
"Stop playing already, when will you do it? I'm looking forward to getting started." Jin snaps angrily, pushing the cake out of her sight as he drinks from her wine glass.
Jungkook laughs, turning his phone back on to continue playing as usual. "So impatient, hyung." He says he with a click of annoyance.
Jin rolls his eyes, following her gaze to Jimin who is innocently cowering in her chair. Ignoring how completely obsessed Jungkook is with his games, it really was not his business,for something his youngest friend had his parents, who were too busy with their work, they ran the largest electronics factory in the country, leaving his son in the background just giving him everything he asked for without objection. Always showing a smile when little Jungkook came before them demanding a new console or the best phone.
"It only remains to wait..." Whispering, he released a patient Hoseok. His smile as charming as ever. "For her to decide what to do and then... Plot! She fell into the wrong well."
"I hate when you describe and talk like that, but I can't expect much from a Jung... like you."
However, Hoseok never stops smiling even when anger is consuming his mind causing him to clench his fists under the table and bite his tongue inside his mouth, hidden by his gleaming and visible teeth. Namjoon smiles at her, knowing that she managed to provoke him but that she won't do anything to shut him up.
"Pathetic."
Motherfucker.
Jin breaks the tense silence, shushing everyone with a snap. That silence. Nobody hears anything from you or Yoongi, for a moment they feel the anguish that something bad has happened or that his friend has lost a bit ... The hand. But just seconds later you're rushing down, wearing the same clothes and your face covered in tears. You don't even look at them when you run to the door, leaving a trail of emptiness behind you.
"Hm, intense." This is Jungkook speaking, his eyes still lost on the phone screen of him playing a silly online championship. "She will be fine after hours."
"Jungkook is right, now we must move with Yoongi."
Namjoon gets up walking to your room, surprised that everything seems almost the same as it was before their fight.
He smiles when he manages to see his friend laying on the floor sobbing, and like that children's book called Pinocchio, he feels good being that cricket-shaped voice of reason. Only this time that sweet and serene voice, released one and a thousand blasphemies that would contaminate even the most devout by his beliefs.
He managed to convince Yoongi's easy to manipulate mind, blurting out words almost like a song. Playing with the naive self of hes that still lived and breathes inside him.
You had come home after days of spending with Ari and her boyfriend away from him. You really didn't want to set foot in that house again in years, a small irrational part of you believed that it was all his fault, your real problems started when you set foot in that damn place.
You open the door observing the room in the same way, empty. You try not to make yourself feel ready to go to sleep, without having been able to do it in days, but now you doubted that it would be different here.
You remain static in view of everyone, you had forgotten that at that time they were having dinner together. They only met once a day and it had to be right there.
"Good evening, sorry to interrupt." You ignoring Yoongi's gaze that, he's trying not to get too excited about your return, even though she causes he to euphoric whirl. "Carry on, I'll just go to my room."
"Please no, sit with us."
"I'm not well."
"I insist, sit with us. They were difficult days but I know they can fix it." Jin puts a plate in front of one of the empty chairs, you refuse to sit down but you do it out of compromise.
Everyone seems to be exclusively quiet, dinner was gray, like a black and white painting. Remember the first dinner, where everyone seemed to have so much to say and now that was left behind, Jungkook continues to play with his phone sometimes moving his plate by accident, without touching a single silverware with the intention of eating. Jin eats in peace, so slowly that he is strange. Namjoon reads a book in his hand, eating so cleanly that it's amazing.
Hoseok looks at you playfully from time to time, with a smile that almost makes you smile the same. Jimin and Taehyung seem to communicate silently, they both look at each other with slight grimaces and smiles.
"We can talk?" Yoongi whispers, you feel her breath next to you and instinctively you walk away scared. Still hurt by her actions and attitude, you give your vow of silence by standing up and without saying goodbye, you walk up the stairs.
"How rude." Jungkook interrupts, keeping an eye on his screen lighting up his beautiful face. "He didn't even taste the food."
Yoongi looks at Jin, her oldest friend and the one she trusted the most, seeking some advice. But just gets the same treatment as always, a look insisting that go with you and try to fix her mistake.
However, it was late. You had packed a makeshift suitcase by going down as quietly as you could, exiting through the back door like a thief or a fugitive.
You spent days thinking about your cowardly way of running away, but in the same way you felt better and even more so when you did not receive any message from him. Maybe it wasn't that important to him, it hurt but it also relieved you.
You knew it would be awkward to see him in the face again, but you should go back and get your things over with as soon as possible. You naively thought of forming a friendship, a very distant one, but in the end it would be the healthiest thing for both of you.
"______?" Asked the person who opened the door after you barely managed to ring the bell due to nerves, he was clearly confused.
"W-good morning ... Jin." You greet by taking a few steps back to get a better look at it, you had forgotten how tall it was. "Sorry to bother I just wanted to -..."
"Talk to Yoongi? I'm sorry but he's already better without you, he even met someone new." You were surprised by his austere, sour tone and trying to intimidate you. "And you better go, you are not welcome here."
"No ... No, I-I came for my things but I'm glad to know that it's better now, and that ..." The words stayed in your mouth, almost as if it hurt to admit it. "I was able to find someone, I hope we can be friends. Also with you, I'm sorry I left without explaining or saying goodbye properly."
You waited what seemed like ages for her response, and you expected more than a simple nod of the head, letting you pass without a hitch. You searched your room quickly, trying not to have any contact with any of them for now. You opened the door that had your name on it but you were scared by what you found inside, the whole room had been painted blood red, a very dark color that managed to give you such familiar chills.
"What is this? Where are my things?!" You turned around ready to go and claim but the door closed behind you with a stormy noise. You ran to try to open it but it did not move an inch, you searched the whole room for something useful to help you but it was completely empty, and alone.
You sobbed in fear, not understanding what was happening and why it seemed that the walls were getting narrower every second. You fell to the ground, trying to stay calm and without losing your goal, hours and even days passed for you, you waited to hear at least one noise but everything was so quiet that you had to avoid going crazy, you played with your hands trying to distract yourself and think positive things, you had read many books about stressful situations to know that thinking a lot about those things caused even more stress, you lie on the floor sure that a nap will calm everything down, if it was a nightmare you wanted to wake up and if not , you wanted to dream that it was.
A lock, you hear that particular noise and you wake up. You open your eyes as fast as you can lifting your body, the door was slightly open as if someone was exiting. You scream for help but it closes, you fall back into sadness and despair screaming even more for your freedom.
You didn't deserve this.
You look with regret at the delicious food they left for you, for a moment you think about going on a hunger strike but your stomach demands you not to be so stupid. The same would not change anything. Regardless of manners, you eat as fast as you can, dropping quite a bit of food on the ground in your rush.
It had an exquisite taste, and you could recognize it everywhere. It was one of your favorite dishes, you felt disgusted to compare it to your mother's food, but as magnificent as it was, it reminded you so much of her.
You wait for something to happen, but minutes go by in which you just look at nothing, letting your head fly. Thinking of a thousand things, playing with the spoon and singing in a low voice.
You feel hot from one moment to the next, your vision becomes cloudy and the door opens again. You just stay in the same place, you don't care about anything, not even how they hold you by helping you walk into another room.
"You were right, she is very calm now."
You look at him, their faces so familiar and you try to place them, but your head is flying away at that moment. You close your eyes laughing, and drifting into unconsciousness.
You wake up. You open your eyes and you are tied, you struggle with the ropes that hold your arms while the bed below you makes your body bounce. You touch the sheets realizing that they are extremely soft, you are in an unfamiliar room surrounded by scarlet red, with elegant and shimmering decorations. You try to stand up but your legs, like your hands, are tied.
And you're still quiet because of the rag in your mouth.
You fight the bindings furiously, screaming into the cloth as much as you can get sick of being locked up again.
You think of Yoongi, although at that moment it was irrelevant you wonder where she is and if she knew that she was being kidnapped in such a way, would she help you at least? Resignation covers you completely, fighting the bonds again with such force that you feel like they burn your skin every time you move.
You sob, just as he did one fall day.
Yoongi watches you from the monitor in another room, Jin is talking to Namjoon to the side while Jungkook is still sitting in a corner entertaining on her phone. Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok seem reluctant to look at each other despite facing each other.
Remember the day, the one in the past, when he met them. Jimin and Taehyung were already friends playing in one of the children's castles, with their hands pretending to be weapons as they ran around. Hoseok was sitting next to his mother, talking and apparently they had a lot to say. Namjoon did not detach from the side of his father who urged him to go up to the games, while Jin was busy collecting Flowers in a basket that his grandmother was holding.
They were all strangers and even more so he, felt out of place surrounded by so many games and away from home. His parents had freed up a whole day to spend together in a decent park, it was several hours of travel from Daegu to Seoul only for his son to play in a beautiful park surrounded by luxurious buildings.
He dropped down next to her mother, hugging her without wanting to let her go.
"Min Yoongi, we didn't take this trip just for you to sit there all day, son."
"I'm scared..." he whispered, biting her lip and hiding her face in the neck of his beloved mother.
"I see... but the games look so much fun. Run and try them, love."
He nodded still uneasy, walking over to one of the swings where he sat rocking so slowly that he seemed still. He felt hands pushing his body from behind, scared he looked at the boy behind him, he had a smile on his face and waved him with a hand.
"Sorry, I thought you needed to be pushed." He spoke and did not seem at all nervous.
"I'm fine, but thank you..." There was a momentary silence before he interrupted again. "I am Yoongi."
"Hoseok, although my mommy calls me Hobi."
He smiled, offering himself this time to push the swing, they spent minutes like this just helping each other take a walk pleasantly. He didn't even think about it when Hoseok offered to talk to Jimin and Taehyung about how they'll all play together in teams.
Now in the present, he smiled again remembering how he met Jin that same day, he had collided with him when he was running so as not to be caught by Jimin. His older friend was flushed with anger, screaming for her flowers and his dirty clothes. His grandmother teased him a bit making him deny even more, he followed Yoongi for several minutes until the chase because of her desire to hit him became a game.
They both fell to the ground tired, laughing before Hoseok introduced himself to Jin. Namjoon arrived shortly after, curious about the commotion and why he had gotten bored of sitting for so long, as he explained later. Besides that his father didn't have the best conversation starters.
He cried so much that very day when he had to go home again, promising to return soon.
"We have everything ready, are you ready?" Jin stood next to him, his eyes looked at him but he couldn't recognize his childhood friend. The same one that he offered to organize his birthday parties when his parents could not afford them, the same one that he never took advantage of his money to lower it. The one who hugged him as many times as he could when he came out of his therapies after his parents died.
Who was this man?
"Y-yes." He murmured still stunned. He got up, following in his footsteps with his head lowered.
They opened the door showing him, you were distracted biting the cloth in your mouth and trying to move your hands to free them.
Your body felt the same repetitive chill making you look at them feeling their presences so... uncomfortable.
"Enough." Jin ordered as you continued your insistent useless movement, trying to free yourself. "I'm not playing around, stop."
Me neither, idiot. You clench your teeth as much as you can at not being able to say it out loud, you stubbornly keep moving even faster than before. Your hair falls on your face from your busy tossing and you stare at him, challenging his patience and judgment.
You try not to tremble when he approaches you with intentions that deep down manage to scare you. But you continue, the bed moves as fast as you do until his hand falls against your cheek causing a gasp to come out of your gagged mouth.
"Hyung!" Yoongi claims holding her hand to prevent her from trying to hit you again, you feel the particular burning on your right cheek and the tears growing back in your eyes. "Please, no blows. That was not what we agreed on."
Jimin cleared his throat, a satisfied smile on his face, "We never specified anything, actually... Yoongi-hyung."
"Jimin is right, you never specified any kind of restriction for her and us." Namjoon clarified making you look at them confused, it was as if they were talking in terms of employment or contract.
But you had never signed anything.
"B-but they can't do that, they'll never accomplish anything if they force her." He tried to persuade him but Jungkook sighed, dropping his phone to the ground and then stepping on it like it was worthless. "She will just hate them."
"She will do it anyway, if we let her off her or try to convince her to stick with sweet words she won't think twice and she will run away ready to report us for kidnapping."
"In addition to the damages that she suffered here." Namjoon continued to condemn Jungkook, uplifting her surname and her family's status.
"You are in this with us or against us, there is still a free place in the basement for you with chains just as heavy."
Again, the same chill ran through you causing you to cringe in your place. These men were insane, they were capable of betraying each other, and worse, they could possibly also consider shooting themselves in the back when they weren't looking at each other. All for you, as if you were some kind of prize for winning and owning.
After moments that seemed eternal, Taehyung was releasing your mouth as you began to complain about what they were doing, how they dared and demanding freedom.
Really a classic, so much so that it was witty and hilarious that you said it literally.
They forced you to kneel on the ground with your hands on your legs still perfectly tied. More questions filled your mouth not knowing what they were planning, all you could do was look at them so scared it was adorable.
"Uh... Well... I guess one should go first." Jin says, taking a few steps away from your crouched figure.
Jimin stepped forward, standing in front of you causing you to look up from your spot below him.
"What are you doing?" You ask weakly, you try to drag yourself away when his hand struggles with his pants to remove it but Jin holds you in place. Getting on his knees to speak into your ear softly.
"You better take a breath instead of trying to run away, honey. I thought you were smarter... hm?" He laughs mocking your scared face, you refuse to open your eyes and mouth making him stop laughing in annoyance.
Jimin sighs taking your face in his hands so roughly that they will surely leave a purple mark on your skin. He was still dressed, I was hoping I could humiliate you more and then fuck your mouth until you suffocate while his hyung explains everything to you. How it all started, his obsession, his plan, they had planned everything so perfect that it was terrifying, everything monopolized on one board.
Soon as soon as possible you will just be a cute housewife and you will forget your life before that day. Not for nothing did they have a closet full of cheerful and homely outfits ready for you, they wanted to destroy you and then put you back together just to serve them.
You would be his wife, of everyone.
"Come on, little bitch..." Jimin started, reaching over to kiss you on the lips even though you refused to do so. You really no longer had a vote or a word of objection in his plans. "Open your eyes darling, you don't want a stray bullet to land in your mother's skull, do you?" He threatened making you obey even more scared than before.
"P-please don't hurt my mother!" You sob, clasping your tied hands in supplication.
"Oh, we won't.... yet." He whispered kissing your lips one last time before imposing himself on your kneeling body. Her cock came out of her pants, stroked a few times before guiding it to your lips. Your stomach contracted, and you pulled your face away as far as you could before Hoseok held you by the hair tightly pulling you close again. "Take it, baby. Everything will be fine if you just obey."
"I hate them, they disgust me" You whisper before Jin forced you to open your mouth making you take it, you fight for a few seconds but her hips are already moving making you choke and gasp. His moans are so loud they make you squirm but his hands hold your head close to him.
"I told you you'll take a breath, but you're a dumb whore." His breath is hitting your neck directly, your skin crawling trying to distract you from anything other than Jimin's cock in your throat causing you to gag and vomit. "I bet you're wondering why, what did you do, and nothing really. Or if Yoongi!"
You do not look at your boyfriend before, you only focus on Jin who smiles, caressing your body with his hands, almost exceeding your limits. However, what did it matter if he did it, there was nothing you could do for yourself.
"You were only here, I think we all loved you from the first moment we saw you. We spent many nights wondering what was special about you, many of us had dated women before but you... You were so different, you had something that attracted us and it made us go crazy. " His hands squeezed your breasts causing you to gasp on Jimin's cock who moaned with pleasure, continuing his steady and hard rhythm. "Taehyung got involved in the matter. "
Jimin smirked when your eyes went up to him, your eyes showing how angry and helpless you felt. And it was exquisite.
"I bet you didn't know about your beloved boyfriend's background,locked up in a rehab center for alcoholics for two years. Three years taking therapy for his depression after the tragic death of his parents, quite strong actually." His words had such a strong past but from his mouth they came out as if it were not so important. Something common for him. "I'm surprised he loved you so much and didn't tell you."
You cried unable to turn your face to look at him, deep down you wanted to put Yoongi aside and not hate him for this. But it seemed almost impossible when he was there, doing nothing, so calm that it was unreal that he had ever looked at you directly and declared his love to you over and over again. For months.
"He really was fine for a while until we decided to make him fall again, one drink after another... First trust him, then question their relationship and finally make them argue." A laugh left his lips, it was almost uncomfortable that he was the only one doing it. Everyone else was so quiet just watching. "But I can't give myself all the credit, let me introduce ourselves well, my dear."
Jimin walked away from you letting you breathe again, you had almost forgotten that he had been doing that act against you. Your tied hands help you hold off the ground by not being able to breathe properly, you feel so weak that you are about to pass out but you refuse to look weak in front of them.
"Kim Seokjin, son of the best chefs in the country and heir owner of thousands of five-star restaurants, inside and outside the country." His body crouched down, making an extremely long bow. Namjoon stood next to him, with the same smile from the day he met you. "Kim Namjoon, the only and adored son of the best lawyers and mayoral candidates, future presidents if occasion permits." There was a strange tone behind his voice, with a knowing wink. "I thought you can guess what Hoseok's parents do, but I'll tell you just in case. Great psychiatrists recognized for their countless achievements outside and within the country, having a tradition from generation to generation, capable of manipulating even the cleverest mind like yours."
Hosoek smiled at you, but this time his smile showed malice and pride. All that time you were surrounded by people who wielded a certain power and influence, oblivious to the fact that they could ever use it against you.
"Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung... Maybe you heard about their surnames on the news two years ago? Families specialized in medicine, their knowledge dazzles science and biology. Before allies and now both surnames are enemies competing for the market, but who would say that their children would meet secretly and use their same knowledge to retain a precise treasure." His hand stroked your hair causing you to recoil angrily, with a grimace of disgust and resignation. "Well... Finally Jungkook, son of the best technology creators in the country. Capable of creating anything, millionaires obviously, like everyone. Faithful lovers and devoted to he son, giving him everything he wants. " He stopped for a moment and then brought his hand to your ear taking out one of your earrings, you looked at him confused before he opened it showing a tiny device that lit up. "Even creating a more than wonderful device, a tracker of the smallest size."
You opened your mouth completely petrified, looking at each and every one of them. Most of them had a firm and conceited posture, but your eyes only looked at him.
"Were you in on this?" You ask by moving your body slightly, Yoongi only remains silent, avoiding looking at you at all costs, even if it is out of mercy you demand a simple word. "Speak! Tell me! Tell me!" You scream completely out of control, letting out all your frustration and anger with him, just him. It's all his fault. "Tell me now! To finally be able to completely hate them all... Please tell me, I just want to stop inventing and fooling my head trying to justify why you are standing there doing nothing for me" You sob almost exhausted, " Without helping me, when before you said you love me."
His eyes meet yours a few seconds before Jungkook chimed in, completely certain that you were trying to play your manipulation cards to get rid of them. Funny, they had done the same to catch you, their hyung could sometimes be so... credulous. That it was ironic that she was older than him.
"Good enough talk for today." He demanded, causing you to hide your head again in fear. You were so scared, even with the pain in your cheek and jaw from being forced by Jimin, you would never give up on them.
Your mouth felt dry, you couldn't remember the last time you drank water alone. As if they could read your thoughts, Taehyung appeared with a tray with a glass of water and a purple pill.
"Take that away from me." You scream when he tries to put the pill in your mouth, backing up as far as your bound legs will allow.
He sighs bored, as if he doesn't have the patience to deal with it, "If you want water you'll have to do this."
"What is it?" You ask almost breathless from the lack of water in your body, he smiles before bringing the pill to his face to look at it rolling it on his finger.
"Hm... Vitamins." Respond after hesitating. "Everything you need in one compact little pill. It was an invention by Jimin and me, we were hoping you would be the first to try it."
A few seconds ago you remember hearing about the reputations of both families, they were specialists who probably passed that knowledge on to their children. If they knew what they were doing with them, they would be shocked. Your reasoning tells you no, to throw it away and try to run away but your head and body can't take it anymore, they demand water and a rest.
"I-it's okay." You accept, removing the pill and the glass of water from the tray angrily. You put the pill in first, then the water so hard your mouth hurts from the force.
You return the glass silently, eyeing him suspiciously before sitting back down and walking a few inches away. You wait for everyone to do something, but they stay so still as dolls that it scares you, everything about them and their attitudes was creepy.
I wish you had noticed earlier.
And now you feel it, it was not pain, nor anxiety. I was just calm, the noises seem to decrease and your vision does not blur but you feel so relaxed that you do not seem to be affected by any drugs. You could feel it all, but you didn't care.
It was relaxing but you weren't far this time, you remember the previous scenes. When you ate the food they gave you, it was similar but as if it had been modified so that you can remain docile and obedient, but at the same time you know what they are doing.
Your body falls on the bed, you don't even try to get up. Your brain isn't thinking about that, it just gets distracted by the decorations around it, but it clearly perceives one of them nearby. Namjoon is behind your body lying face down, half is on the bed and your legs are still kneeling on the floor. You feel his kisses so desperate on your neck, his hands touching your breasts and stomach trying to lower himself further, anxious not to wait to fuck you as he always wanted and should have been.
You do not fight when his legs open yours with force and speed, you just stand still, thinking with your head glued to the soft sheets of the bed, deep down you can slightly feel your desire to push him and push him away furiously, you want to do it but not you do. You feel so confused that you sob into the sheets in released frustration.
"I thought I heard from you, that her wouldn't refuse anything with his stupid pill." Jin whispers, disgusted seeing you struggle with yourself in search of reason.
"I don't see her deny it." Jimin retorts, crossing his arms with a small victorious smile.
Yoongi stands aside, not wanting to accept this but likewise, like you, does nothing to avoid it while Namjoon sinks deep inside you causing you to writhe overwhelmed and let out a groan of pain, your mouth opens to complain and probably ask him to stop, but he instantly closes again only releasing more gasps and squeals.
They spend minutes with all eyes on you, taking the cock of her friend who abuses your sore pussy from overstimulation, this time you are crying and begging for mercy to stop. Even in your unconsciousness you continue to feel all the pain and also the pleasure that is now almost non-existent.
"S-stop!" You cry between gasps of exhaustion, your hands had been released by Jungkook seconds ago so that you can hold on properly. However, you only use them to try to ward off Namjoon who is holding you against the bed by slamming his body against yours with obscene noises. The bed squirms like you, colliding with the wall in sync.
"A little more baby... Just a little more... And I'll fill you with my cum, so fucking tight. You like that, hm?" Her breath very close to your cheek makes you react, you squeeze your eyes almost suffering from your next inevitable orgasm. You scream making everyone watch you fascinated by how your face contracts with pleasure and pain, you try to walk away when the moment of ecstasy recedes, but he continues to fuck you bareback hard, selfishly chasing the release of him against you.
You spent hours repeating the same routine, sometimes sometimes even more hours than you can remember or count.. Your body was completely covered with bruises and marks not only made by them manually, you had discovered in the worst way that Hoseok had a great fetish to make small cuts to any animal or person that had skin and that glistening blood came out of those wounds, red as hell and as sweet as ambrosia.
A delicacy, truly a true delicacy blessed by God.
Jin could not stop laughing at your overwhelmed face, sometimes he would sit next to you while your body was fucked uncontrollably, watching your face move on the sheets with the constant and hard movements of his friends.
"Do you enjoy it, you dirty bitch?" You knew he was making fun of it, not only because it denigrated your dignity, but also because you couldn't answer correctly and the only thing that moved was your head up and down from the thrusts. As if you were affirming his disgusting words. "You like it right?" And again. "I bet you will enjoy it every day from now on, do you want to marry us, little bitch? Be ours forever, that we fuck you every damn day like that, that we also fill you up that you would get pregnant, you would have our children , and you would gladly. Do you accept _______?"
You did not want to know where he managed to get your last name, nor your full name and less because he thought that after the effect of whatever they had given you, you would really accept being his damned wife.
But he just stands there, watching Jungkook abuse his new power against you and taunt him.
I just wanted to wait for everyone to leave, so I could hug you, heal you, and ask for forgiveness.
He couldn't save you if he was chained to the basement like they threatened to do. He was afraid of his own friends, who looked at him madly when hours before he thought of withdrawing from the plan, Hoseok as charismatic as he always claimed to be able to cut his neck so easily if I took you away from them.
Now, they were doomeds.
The painting lost its color once more.
343 notes · View notes
heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years
Text
How Not to Form a Thruple
Sayaka Igarashi x She/Her Reader x Kirari Momobami
A/N: Oh my god this took forever to do. There are just so many factors to consider when trying to make this work and I did not want this to turn into a novel and yet it's still sooo much. Anyway, much love to Sayaka and Kirari but they don’t know how their own relationship works without trying to date another person at the same time. Ririka is suffering, but at least she has Mary. Sorry if there are more errors than usual I had to deal with a cat menace. Also beware of Midari in this fic, you know how she is. And the OC I made isn’t very helpful either. Word Count: 18,395 (Why did I do this to myself?)
~
(Y/n) sighed and slouched in her seat at the back of the classroom, her eyes followed the form of Igarashi Sayaka taking her seat in the front of the room with her arms full of papers and folders. Her bag, looking just as heavy as the load in her arms, had the shoulder strap strained over the desk hook.
“Ugh, you really are hopeless, you know that?”
“Huh?” (Y/n) turned her head, meeting her friend’s eyes just in time to see them roll to the side.
“You’re looking at Igarashi with those dumb puppy eyes again. We’re well into our second year of high school now, shouldn’t you be over her by now? Or, here’s an idea, ask her out.” Tsubasa advised, pretending to be scandalized by their own suggestion.
“Don’t talk so loud!” (Y/n) hissed, quickly looking to see if anyone, especially Sayaka, had heard.
“The whole classroom is practically screaming about gambling and homework (Y/n), no one’s listening to us. Especially not Miss Workaholic over there. So, what’s the deal? When are you gonna finally make a move?”
“Are you crazy? There will be no move making from now until the end of time!” (Y/n) gestured wildly, emphasizing the word ‘now’ and the phrase, ‘the end of time’. “She obviously likes the president... and like is putting it mildly, there is no way I’m going to embarrass myself like that. I mean, when it comes to the president I can’t possibly compete. She’s too beautiful and suave, no wonder Igarashi wants to spend so much time with her.” (Y/n) sighed wistfully and slid further down her chair, openly sulking.
“Sounds to me like you’re simping double time these days, (Y/n).” Tsubasa snickered and kicked at (Y/n)’s foot with their own, producing a muffled groan from the girl who had since buried her head in her arms over her desk.
“You look at the girls in this school and tell me you can’t find easily like, ten of them that you’d immediately give your kidney to if they asked.” (Y/n) grumbled.
“Nah I’m good thanks, I’d like to keep my kidneys as a matched set if I can help it.” They leaned back in their chair and stretched. “Class is starting soon, better get your act together before you get called on and embarrass yourself in front of Igarashi.”
“God that would happen to me wouldn’t it?” (Y/n) sat up and opened her notebook for her first class, scanning the most recent notes with a critical eye.
“Hey, before you get too lost in that boring stuff I wanted to ask you if you heard about the gamble that’s taking over Yumemite’s stage during lunch.”
“I haven’t heard anything. What does Yumemite-san have to say about this? Didn’t she have a concert scheduled at that time?”
“You would know that wouldn’t you, simp.” Tsubasa laughed, poking (Y/n). “She’s sick or something so someone snatched up the stage for the day and they even got permission to broadcast to the whole school. Anyone can come by to gamble and the last person standing gets ten million yen!”
“What’s the catch? There always is one with these no admittance fee gambles.”
“Loser has to do one thing the winner asks each round. Something that can be done right then and there on camera to be broadcasted to the school. What do you think? Will you do it with me?” They grinned.
“Be humiliated in front of the whole school? No thanks, think I’ll pass.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. We could split the money fifty-fifty if one of us wins. What’s the worst request someone could demand of you if you lose?”
“Uh, have you been paying attention in this school?” (Y/n) looked up from her notebook, “A person having the power over you to make you do something for them is almost always worse then owing money. They could tell you to strip or rip your nails off— all sorts of crazy things!”
“I guess I could have been more clear. The winner just asks a question to the loser and they have to answer it honestly.”
“Wait, you’re telling me this is just going to be truth or dare without the dare?” (Y/n) looked at them incredulously. “I know I was complaining before but how is something so boring being broadcasted to the whole school?”
“Beats me, but really, the deal is a lot sweeter now, don’t you think, partner?” Tsubasa batted their eyelashes and (Y/n) lightly punched their shoulder.
“Alright, I’m in.”
***
“Never mind I’m not in!” (Y/n) trembled at the sight before her. The stage was filled with all sorts of creepy crawlies and dangerous looking animals in various enclosures. She made to leave but her friend grasped her arm and pulled her back.
“Too late to pull out (Y/n), I already signed us up!” They smiled brightly as if completely unaffected by the scene before them.
“Did you know about this?” (Y/n) asked, her throat tightening with equal parts anger and anxiety. “This isn’t truth or dare without the dare, it’s like, dare with a light suggestion of truth!”
“I know right? This is gonna be awesome!” Tsubasa grinned.
“Did Ikishima take over your body or something? What the hell is wrong with you!?” (Y/n) chastised through clenched teeth.
“Shhhh, I think the organizer is about to get things started. Don’t think about the risk, think about how awesome it’s gonna be when we win ten million yen! Five mil each!”
“If the more affluent students heard you getting excited over five million yen they would laugh you out of the school.” (Y/n) mumbled, rubbing at her temples to try to fight the oncoming headache she was starting to feel.
“Wow, a lot more of you showed up than I thought you would!” A voice called from the stage, crazy familiar laughter rolled over the auditorium.
“Ikishima actually organized this? Why am I not surprised?” (Y/n) sighed.
“Okay so a handful of you...” Ikishima scratched her head with her gun as she looked around the room. To (Y/n) surprise, the crazy girl suddenly fell to her knees with a cry of anguish. “Yumeko didn’t come? But I invited her directly! How could she stay away from such a gamble when I worked so hard to procure all this shit!” She moaned mournfully and motioned towards all the animal enclosures.
“Uh, so are we doing this thing or...?” Another student called out after watching Midari spread out on the stage floor and sulk for a hot minute.
“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second...” Midari sighed despondently. “Yumeko,” she began, looking to the ceiling, “I made this all for you, enjoy the show... I know you’re watching!”
(Yumeko was in fact, not watching.)
“Alright, listen up everybody!” Midari jumped back onto her feet, her gun tracing over every face in the front couple rows of the auditorium. “Ya ever hear of Fear Factor? Well that’s what we’re doing except not really. Basically, I’ll have you face off one v one. You each get to pick an animal you’d like your opponent to get all close and personal with, the first person to bail loses and if neither bails after five minutes, then the person with the highest heart rate loses. We’ll be monitoring your heart rates with these little wrist monitors to keep you honest. If your heart rate continually spikes higher than the other person, we’ll know and you’ll be out of the competition, not before you let out a truth of the victor’s choosing of course.” Midari smiled wickedly and gestured to the giant screen behind her. “Here is our bracket, let the games begin!”
(Y/n) scanned over the names and was jostled by Tsubasa slinging an arm over her shoulders.
“Look at that, (Y/n). We’re on opposite side of the bracket, I’m liking our odds!”
“Yeah, great.” (Y/n) whined and slowly made her way to the stage. Her name was right at the top of the bracket signaling she would be in the first match.
“Go (Y/n)!” Tsubasa cheered.
(Y/n) grimaced as Midari fixed the cold heart monitoring device to her wrist and another beautification officer hooked up her opponent who smirked once (Y/n) met his gaze.
“Coin flip decides who picks first. (L/n), heads or tails?” Ikishima asked, her breath sticking to (Y/n)’s cheek because of how close she was.
“Heads.” (Y/n) chose. Midari flipped the coin and revealed heads.
“Lucky you!” Midari cackled, “Choose carefully because once an animal is chosen, it will be retired for the remainder of the gamble!”
“I’ll pick the tarantula.” (Y/n) declared, suppressing a shudder. At least now she knew it wouldn’t be able to be used against her later.
“Ahh tarantula-san eyy?” Midari giggled. “I love it, nice choice! And you?” Midari turned to address the other student.
He appeared to be sweating ever so slightly but his smirk didn’t leave his face. “I’ll pick that huge ass snake.”
“Boa-san? Hell yeah!” Midari cackled, looking all too pleased with how this was going. “Handlers, bring out the chosen animals!”
“Hold your arms out, kind of like a cradle please.” The handler asked (Y/n). She had just nearly put her arms in position before the handler looped the middle of the large constrictor around her neck. The upper half of the large snake began coiling around her arm as (Y/n) struggled to hold the heavy reptile.
(Y/n) chanced a glance at her competition who appeared to be holding his breath as the tarantula crawled across his pant leg. He was sitting on the stage, something about lessening the risk to the spider should the boy freak out. (Y/n) gulped as her attention was brought back to the snake. It had raised its head to be level with her own and scented the air between their faces before slithering up and over her head and it began its descent down her back.
“Hey!” (Y/n)’s eyes darted back to the boy who looked noticeably more panicked. “It’s crawling toward my junk!” He screamed as the spider slowly made its way over his thigh.
“So?” Midari shrugged, “What, you gonna bail already? It hasn’t even been two minutes.”
“Get it off me now!” His voice pitched higher, the spider had momentarily lost its grip and slid closer to the boy’s crotch. “Take it, take it!”
“Alright, you big baby.” Midari waved him off signaling the handler to take the spider. “Round one goes to you, (L/n). Sazanka class, represent!”
(Y/n) released a relieved sigh as the weight of the boa was lifted from her shoulders. She massaged her shoulder and almost left the stage before Midari called her back.
“Hey, don’t forget your question!”
“Ah, right, sorry. Umm, what’s your favorite color?” (Y/n) could heard the faint echo of Tsubasa smacking their forehead with their hand in the darkened auditorium and Midari groaned.
“That’s what you’re asking? That’s so god damn boring!” Midari sprawled out on the floor again. “Well shit, answer (L/n)’s boring ass question I guess.”
“It’s green.” The guy breathed, thankful for the low stakes question after his embarrassing screeching over the tarantula.
“Alright, who’s next?”
***
The final round was finally here. (Y/n) had survived a hand full of banana slugs and holding up a adolescent fox bat by its feet before finally making it to the last round with Tsubasa bouncing excitedly as her final opponent. They had made it, no matter what happens now the ten million was as good as theirs.
“Alright! Here we are with the last match! Only a handful of creatures left, what will be used I wonder...” Midari pondered. “Heads or tails, (L/n)?”
“I’ll go heads again.”
The coin flipped in her favor once more and she smiled at her friend. “I know you’ve been eyeing that iguana over there, go make a new friend.”
“I really appreciate that, (Y/n).” Tsubasa simpered. “However,” the sweet smile turned sinister, “Just because we made it to the end, doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”
(Y/n)’s eyes darkened at the betrayal, her mouth twitched into a frown aimed at her unbothered so called friend. Sweat gathered at her brow. Were they going to pick the literal grizzly bear over there? Or maybe even worse, the—
“I pick the octopus.”
“No way!” (Y/n) gasped.
“Uehehehe, I see you recognize the coloration of octopus-san, don’t you (L/n)?” Midari leered over the other girl.
“Yeah, that’s a blue ringed octopus isn’t it? Those things can kill you and you expect me to hold it?” (Y/n) threw her arms out wide in disbelief.
“I had it brought here for Yumeko, but I’m glad someone is going to play with octopus-san.” Ikishima practically moaned. “Well, (L/n) are you gonna hold it or bail?”
“Of course I-“
“(Y/n), before you answer that question,” Tsubasa whispered, “You should know I’m planning on asking a really good question should I win. You know, related to who we were talking about this morning.”
“You wouldn’t-“ (Y/n) gasped.
“Try me.”
“I give you the iguana and this is how you repay me! I could literally die!” (Y/n)’s heart was absolutely pounding. Hurt and betrayal plain on her features.
“Listen, I don’t know what the hell you guys are going on about, but we are broadcasting live to the school and you have a decision to make. (L/n), whatcha gonna do?” Midari pushed.
“I...” (Y/n) took a deep, shuddering breath, her gaze drifted to the deadly cephalopod. Her eyes closed tightly as she tried to quiet the wild thrumming of her heart in her ears. This was dangerous and stupid, but she’d sooner die than lose and answer that query truthfully. “I’ll do it.”
“For real (Y/n)? Are you crazy-“
“I love what you’re doing here (L/n)!” Ikishima interrupted (Y/n)’s gambling partner with a wheezy laugh. “If I didn’t already have the hots for Yumeko, I’d jump your bones right now!”
(Y/n) grimaced at the vulgar girl and made her way to the octopus’ enclosure, the vivid blue rings hypnotic in the shallow waters of the tank.
The octopus itself was small, no bigger than the palm of her hand, yet she knew that size would hardly matter, it could still easily kill a grown man twice her size.
(y/n) breathed in deeply and pulled up her sleeve, her hand just barely skimmed the water when her supposed friend spoke up.
“(Y/n) you don’t have to do this. You seriously would rather die than talk about your feelings?”
(Y/n)’s steely gaze met her partner who was nervously stroking the iguana in their arms and her frown deepened.
“Use my half of the ten million to pay for my medical bills and or my funeral.” She spoke coldly, carefully sliding her hand all the way into the tank. She would have just plunged her hand right in, but she really didn’t feel like dying today if she could help it. Please god, give me the luck of that one idiot I saw holding one of these things on social media.
Slowly, she nudged the creature into her hand and raised it up a bit so Ikishima could clearly see her dangerous skinship with the octopus. The one-eyed girl let out a delighted squeal but (Y/n) could not hear it over the pounding of her own heart. The tentacles of the venomous creature curled over her hand as if searching, maybe for the best place to bite (Y/n) thought wryly. It began crawling up her wrist and settled on her forearm. (Y/n) felt faint and she could feel the sweat roll off her in buckets, having the octopus sit still was almost worse than it moving.
“How’s it feel, (Y/n)? I can call you (Y/n) now, right? We’re kindred spirits you and I after all. How does it feel knowing you’re one little bite away from almost certain death? It’s great isn’t it?” Ikishima moaned grossly in (Y/n)’s ear and (Y/n) grit her teeth, her jaw tightened painfully. She did not dare pay attention to Ikishima, her eyes belonged only to the small mass now writhing in the crook of her elbow.
A loud buzz shot (Y/n) out of her concentrated state, causing her to move suddenly and offset the balance of the octopus. (Y/n) yelped  in response to the octopus’ renewed hold over her that was much tighter than before. Did it just bite me?
“Five minutes is up! Guess we have to refer to heart monitors for the winner. Though judging by (Y/n)’s face, her heart rate will probably be nonexistent soon!” Midari laughed and motioned to the big screen. The computer scanned over the last two competitors heart rates over the last five minutes and compared the data. It was quickly determined that (Y/n)‘s heart rate was much higher than her opponent’s, making her the loser of this gamble.
(Y/n) closed her eyes and hung her head in shame, if the octopus did bite her, she didn’t have it in her to care. Her life would be over soon anyway once she answered the victor’s question.
“Wait a minute... what the hell is wrong with octopus-san?” Midari screeched, bringing (Y/n) back into the moment.
(Y/n)’s eyes shot open to look at the octopus and she was surprised to see it had changed color to match that of her skin tone.
“But, blue ringed octopuses don’t change color so dramatically as this? What... this isn’t...” (Y/n) could hardly believe it. The small octopus on her arm wasn’t the deadly Australian native, but a mimic, and a talented one at that.
“Hey you! What the fuck is this!” Ikishima berated the nearest handler, gesturing to the tank with her gun.
“A mimic octopus, ma’am. This little baby has a tank adjacent to a real blue ringed octopus and the clever boy just loves to copy the colors. Intelligent little guy, isn’t he?”
“Well, yeah,” Midari huffed, “but I asked for blue ringed octopus-san!”
“We didn’t want anyone to be hurt. We figured you wouldn’t mind as long as you got an octopus.” The handler smiled tightly. God these rich kids are crazy.
(Y/n) managed to free herself from the mimic and withdraw from the tank. She rubbed her arm and watched the small octopus change color again to match the the sand in its tank. She felt so foolish, all her fear had been misplaced and now- she turned to Tsubasa, now iguanaless, and stepped forward.
“Well that was hella disappointing. What’s-your-face gets to ask their question now.” Midari sighed, clearly disinterested. “If I wasn’t so impulsive and hadn’t put this thing together last minute, I would’ve made much better punishments for the losers.”
“(Y/n), please don’t let this ruin our friendship. I only want what is best for you.” Tsubasa rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly.
“If you didn’t want to do that, you’d pick another damn question. Just ask already.” (Y/n) snapped.
“Who have you had a crush on since middle school who you still like to this day?” They asked almost sympathetically. (Y/n) wanted to slap that awkward smile right off their face.
“Igarashi Sayaka.” (Y/n) answered clearly so as to not have to repeat herself before bolting off the stage, Midari cackling behind her.
“You like that stick in the mud? That’s hilarious!” Midari wheezed from the stage as (Y/n) pushed through auditorium doors with a boom and kept running.
***
(Y/n) should have just skipped school. She was basically doing it anyway since she couldn’t go to class. Not when she was actively avoiding three people in said class. Tsubasa she didn’t want to see for obvious backstabbing reasons, Ikishima because she was being... extra herself towards (Y/n) since the gamble and she didn’t appreciate it, and then of course Sayaka... who knew if she was aware of the gamble or what she’d do if she saw (Y/n). She’d probably tase me, (Y/n) thought glumly.
The last few days (Y/n) had exiled herself to the deepest, darkest depths of the library and didn’t leave until most of the students had gone home for the day. She didn’t need to worry about gambling. Despite not talking to Tsubasa, she saw that her five million that was agreed upon was transferred to her account with an, ‘I’m sorry :( <3‘ attached to it so she was set for awhile in the class rankings.
This day should have been no different as she made her way to the back of the library, but she gasped audibly once she took in the figure perched atop her table seemingly awaiting her arrival. She would have backed away if not for the fact that those icy blue eyes commanded her to stay.
“President!” (Y/n) squeaked. This was it, she was so dead. How foolish of her to think she would be able to get away with admitting her feelings for the secretary of the most powerful person in the school without any repercussions.
The president did not yet speak, but motioned (Y/n) to come closer, the way her glacial eyes bore into (Y/n)’s left no room for argument. (Y/n)’s legs moved slowly, they shook noticeably and she feared she might collapse right in front of the president. Finally she stopped and stood a foot away from the president’s regal pose over the table. (Y/n)’s hands wrung together and she scanned the titles of the nearby bookshelves so she would not have to look her intruder in the eye.
“You’re a surprisingly difficult person to find, (L/n) (Y/n).” Kirari finally spoke, examining her pristine, blue fingernails.
“I,” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “I’m sorry?” Her voice trembled, sounding oh so weak in the presence of the apex predator.
“That was quite the show you put on a couple days ago at Ikishima’s event.” Kirari continued, seemingly oblivious of (Y/n) speaking at all. “You turned that drab, mind numbing dullness into something I could tolerate watching with my afternoon tea. Sayaka seemed quite invested as well.” She said, her eyes casually looking up to catch (Y/n)’s again, gauging for a reaction.
(Y/n) didn’t speak for fear of her heart escaping out of the orifice due to how violently it was beating in her chest, in her throat. It was beating so fast it put the whole octopus incident to shame.
“Of course, the novelty of the octopus was shattered as soon as its true nature was revealed, but it was interesting to watch in the moment, sort of like a magic trick, wouldn’t you agree?”
(Y/n) stayed silent, only managing to tear her eyes away from the analyzing blue ones to study her own shoes.
“Sayaka couldn’t believe you would do something so, how did she put it? Irrational? Insane maybe? It escapes me now, but she was muttering to herself in that endearing way she always does when she’s thinking too hard and she just can’t contain her internal monologue.” Kirari’s smile grew a small fraction wider at the memory. “I didn’t see what the problem was. If anything I’d dare say she was being quite hypocritical, given the fact that she had jumped out of a five story building with me not too long ago.”
(Y/n) allowed a look of astonishment to take over her face and Kirari chuckled quietly.
The student council president slid off of the table and approached (Y/n) with confident, purposeful steps, causing (Y/n) to back away until her back hit the bookshelf behind her. Kirari rested an arm on the shelf beside (Y/n)’s head and leaned so far into her personal space that (Y/n) dared not breathe.
“Maybe you would like to give it a try?”
(Y/n)’s lips trembled, still unable to so much as make a sound. Her eyes were trapped by the icy, oceanic gaze mere inches away from her.
“No need to be so tense, it was just a suggestion. I know you are capable of speaking. What must I do to make this a two way conversation?”
“I-“ (Y/n) attempted to clear her throat, taking in a shaky breath, “I- what do you want me to say, president? Why are you here?”
“You’ve caught my interest.” She stated plainly, “To risk your life all to avoid answering a simple question of little consequence. Tell me, are you embarrassed to like my secretary so much? Do you find such feelings disgraceful, or is it because it’s Sayaka?”
“No! No. That’s not it at all, I just- I’m not embarrassed about how I feel. Igarashi-san is amazing. So incredibly dedicated and hardworking, intelligent, pr- pretty,” (Y/n) blushed, “I could never find anything disgraceful about liking someone like her.”
“Why hide it to such a degree, then? Why risk your life to keep it hidden?” Kirari came closer still, drinking in every micro-expression that (Y/n)’s face would betray for clues about the peculiar behavior she was so fascinated by.
“There was just no point in revealing my feelings. They obviously aren’t reciprocated, I didn’t want to make class awkward or ruin the good terms we were on as classmates. If I was to be embarrassed about anything, it would be the idea of receiving a rejection that I was well aware would occur and was trying to avoid.”
“I’d like to propose a gamble.” Kirari said suddenly, (Y/n) could feel the declaration disturb the air around her face, causing a slight tingling sensation that made her lips purse subtly.
“What do you propose, president?” (Y/n) whispered weakly, her back digging almost painfully I to the bookcase, trying fruitlessly to create a semblance of personal space between them. She surprisingly took  in the sudden declaration without question, probably due to how small she felt in Kirari’s presence. She dared not question the president’s seemingly sudden whim.
“A simple game, really. I don’t have time to plan some grand operation unfortunately. Such things are better planned out over the course of several weeks, months or even years. Something Ikishima will likely never learn even after her hastily put together show,” Kirari spoke, digging at the disorganization of the beautification officer while still looming over (Y/n) like it was perfectly acceptable to be so close, “but that’s neither here nor there, the game will be lightning round old maid.”
“What are the stakes?” (Y/n) asked, a hot cold rush ran down her spine as Kirari absently inspected a lock of (Y/n)‘s hair, twining a finger though it before letting the hair slip from her touch. She backed away, finally giving (Y/n) room to breathe.
“If I win, you’ll immediately start going back to your classes and you’ll become a page of sorts to the student council. You’ll be at Sayaka’s beck and call.”
“I don’t think Igarashi-san would care for that. I’m sure she has a very specific way in which she likes things done. I don’t want to be on her bad side more than I probably already am!”
“Sayaka would never say it, but with the added work the election has brought, I’m sure she could find a use for an extra pair of hands.” Kirari smirked, “Now, what would you like if you win?”
“...I guess it would be nice to have some assistance transferring schools?” (Y/n) mumbled after a moment’s thought.
“How practical. You’re about as imaginative as Sayaka I’ll give you that,” Kirari commented, striding to the other side of the table to sit with practiced poise, “well,” she gestured to the chair opposite her, “please take a seat. This won’t take long.”
(Y/n) bit the inside of her lip and sat stiffly in the presented chair. She couldn’t believe she was about to gamble with the president. Such an ‘honor’ was usually reserved for people like Jabami or Ikishima... What did this say about herself, (Y/n) wondered.
Kirari slipped three cards out of her blazer. The queen of diamonds, the queen of hearts, and a joker card. She presented the cards to (Y/n), allowing her to check for any possible tampering. When (Y/n) was satisfied, she gave the cards back with a sight tremor. Kirari reached past the cards, encompassing (Y/n)’s wrist with her hand and drawing out a surprised gasp from the girl. Kirari skimmed her fingers over the exposed skin up to (Y/n)’s own finger tips before finally taking the cards back and shuffling them under the table. All the while (Y/n)’s hand tingled, still suspended mid air until she remembered herself and quickly pulled her hand back to join her other tightly fisted in her lap.
Kirari eyed the cards, newly shuffled, and slid the queen of hearts to (Y/n)’s side of the table. With a reserved smile, she held out the remaining two cards. “Now, which one will you choose I wonder?”
(Y/n) scrutinized the backs of the cards in Kirari’s hand, silently cursing herself for not thinking of marking the cards in some way as she inspected them. Her eyebrows knit and her eyes narrowed in concentration as if that would help give her some sudden clarity, to open up the right choice.
“As much as I’m enjoying this intense look of concentration you are wearing, I do have other obligations that require my attention this afternoon.” Kirari spoke, jolting (Y/n) from her thoughts.
“Sorry!” (Y/n) swallowed and eyed the cards, darting her attention from one to the other at least a dozen times. Finally she sucked in a huge breath and reached for the the one on the right. Then, changing her trajectory at the very last second, she took the card on the left, missing the excited gleam in Kirari’s eyes.
With trembling fingers she flipped the card in her fingers and felt dread as the laughing face of the joker stared back at her.
“Wrong choice I’m afraid, looks like I’ll get a turn after all.” Kirari said.
(Y/n) took her queen and the joker, mixing them under the table until she was satisfied then held them out to Kirari, trying to will her face into impenetrable stone.
Kirari chuckled quietly as she reached out. She teasingly danced her fingers over the cards, gauging for a reaction. (Y/n) looked away from the scene, trying to invoke some kind of ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ strategy. However, (Y/n) felt that she could have no face at all and Kirari would still be able to read her.
Her eyes shot open when she felt the card in her right hand being tugged free, she turned back to the remaining card with an audible gasp. The queen was still in her hand.
“Oh well,” Kirari smiled, “Another chance for you then, (Y/n).”
(Y/n) nodded resolutely, looking between the two cards once more. She took less time to deliberate this go around and took the left card. Incorrect again.
The joker traded hands at least three dozen more times and traded hands quickly. Staying in one hand only long enough to be shuffled and presented to be taken half a second later. (Y/n) found it exhilarating. There was no strategy, no second guessing, just the gamble itself. Taking whatever card they touched first without a care.
The joker had found (Y/n)’s hand again and (Y/n) couldn’t help the laugh of disbelief that escaped her lips. Her nervous frown had left rounds ago, replaced by a content smile. If Tsubasa could she her now, smiling and playing a children’s game with arguably the most frightening person in the school, they would lose their mind.
“I’m glad you’ve come out of your shell and are enjoying yourself,” Kirari spoke up, her eyes looking unusually warm. “However the time is quickly approaching for one of my aforementioned engagements so,” (Y/n) blinked owlishly, her mouth falling open ever so slightly. Kirari took the queen out of (Y/n)’s hand as if she knew she could have done so at will at any time and smirked. “I’ll be seeing you bright and early Monday morning to discuss your new duties.”
As Kirari stood and moved around the table to exit (Y/n) kept blinking at the joker in her hands. “Oh, and (Y/n),” Kirari stopped at the bookshelf momentarily and looked back at (Y/n), seeing the surprised girl turning slowly in her seat to look at her. “Do not be late.”
With that, the president took her leave. (Y/n) looked back at the joker and smiled brightly despite herself. She knew once the novelty wore off she was going to be an anxious mess before Monday arrived, but for now, she was ride out the high gambling with the president gave her. She gathered her belongings and left the library and the school, humming pleasantly with a skip in her step all the way home.
***
(Y/n) hadn’t slept more than a combined total of eight hours all weekend. She had worried her weekend away to the point of feeling physically ill. What had she been thinking to entertain such a gamble? Not only did she need to start going back to class, but now she had to report in to the student council as if she were a member herself.
(Y/n) glanced at her phone again, squinting her eyes at the harsh light,  a panicked groan leaving her as she read the time. It was five-thirty in the morning. She had more than enough time to get ready and be at school before the student council meeting began at seven, but the anticipation was killing her.
She was not ready to see Sayaka. She wasn’t ready to sit next to Tsubasa in class again or get hounded by Ikishima. Today was going to be an all out assault on her emotional state.
(Y/n) stood outside the imposing doors of the student council room, the time on her phone displaying that she was fifteen minutes early. (Y/n) worked to control her breathing, willing herself to take deep, even breaths. Before she worked up the courage to enter, the door swung open with air displacing force strong enough to whip some of (Y/n)’s hair askew.
“I’ll retrieve the file president! You needn’t concern yourself with such menial tasks!” Sayaka strode a purposeful half step out of the room and rammed straight into (Y/n)’s chest, causing (Y/n) to stumble back, but not fall.
“What are you- oh,” Sayaka’s angry retort died on her lips as she registered who stood before her. “(L/n)-san, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, good- good morning, Igarashi-san. I’m, um, I’m here to-“ (Y/n) stumbled over her words looking over Sayaka’s head, unable to even look her in the eye as she felt her cheeks grow increasingly warm.
“Ah, (Y/n), right on time. Early even.” Kirari appeared in the doorway behind Sayaka who looked back at her with a bewildered expression. “Ready for your first day on the job?”
“President! What are you saying? What is the meaning of this?” Sayaka asked, looking between Kirari and (Y/n) as if to try to draw her own conclusion.
“Sayaka, (Y/n) is going to be your errand girl from now on. Sort of a secretary of a secretary situation.” Kirari explained with an amused grin. “I feel like your work efficiency would be maximized if you didn’t have to run all over the school.”
“But president, I can’t just-“
“(Y/n) has graciously gambled away her services, so use her as you see fit.”
The wording Kirari used, left the two second years gaping and thoroughly embarrassed. The awkward silence that followed seemed to be lost on the president and she continued to speak.
“I’ll provide the first task as an example. (Y/n), Ikishima has neglected to return a rather important file that is needed for the composition of a life plan, retrieve it.”
“Yeah, okay.” (Y/n) quickly turned tail and jogged away from the president and her secretary, thankful for every step that parted her from the awkward confrontation and headed to the bowels of the school.
Sayaka and Kirari watched her leave. The latter looking very pleased with herself.
“President, what did you do?” Sayaka asked, studying Kirari’s mirthful face.
“I was merely following up on my promise. I said I’d find out if she was okay, didn’t I? Now you can see for yourself anytime you wish.”
“I didn’t intend for you to gamble her into servitude!” Sayaka’s voice cracked with exasperation. “What was going to happen if you lost?”
“She was going to transfer schools.” Kirari revealed, drinking in Sayaka’s shocked expression with amused satisfaction, “I don’t know what you did to her Sayaka, but she is positively terrified of you.”
“I- I didn’t do anything! At least, I think...” Sayaka poised a contemplative fist over her lips, thinking back from middle school to present, sifting through memories to find anything to the contrary.
“No matter, you’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to proceed,” Kirari waved dismissively, “I never discussed a date of release before the gamble, but I’m sure keeping her in this position after your graduation would be a tad excessive. Now,” Kirari ran her fingers through Sayaka’s ponytail, eliciting a shudder from the underclassman, “I’d love another cup of tea before the meeting.”
***
(Y/n) descended the stairs to the basement floor of the school. She could hear the distinctive hum of old fluorescent lights and boiler room generators, by looking at the rest of Hyakkaou, you’d never think that such a rich school would have such an ancient, decrepit, looking basement.
As she continued clicking down the darkened hall she could hear a muffled, albeit echoing, cackle that would have sent her sprinting in the opposite direction if not for the fact that it was a familiar laugh she had heard disrupt class on countless occasions.
(Y/n) turned down the next hallway, jumping and covering her ears as a shot rang out, painfully reverberating off of the walls.
“It’s like a goddamn haunted murder house down here.” (Y/n) mumbled to herself.
She turned down one more hallway and met a couple beautification committee members loitering around.
“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed them awkwardly, wincing when the small group quieted and eyed her suspiciously, “I’m, uh, looking for Ikishima?”
“Get lost, she’s... busy” one of the grunts replied, a faint look of discomfort, hidden as she pretended to examine her nails.
“It’s student council business,” (Y/n) persisted. As much as she would have loved to peace out right then, there was no way she was going to return from her first errand empty handed. “It can’t wait.”
“No one gives a damn. Trust me when I say you don’t want to go in there.”
“I’ll take the chance.”
“Hey!”
(Y/n) walked passed the disgruntled committee members and banged on the door, the thudding carried down the hall.
“Ikishima! I’m here to collect a file for a life plan!” (Y/n) called through the heavy metal door.
“Damn it! What the hell?” Midari yanked the door open and (Y/n) had to take several steps back at witnessing the severe sweaty, disheveled state the girl on the other side was in. “I was so fucking close and you just cut me off like that? What the hell, that just turns me on more!”
“The file? Now, please?” (Y/n) stuttered out, desperately wishing for a line of brain and eye bleaching products that would make her forget ever seeing her classmate like this. For now she would simply have to settle with getting the hell out of there as soon as possible.
“Wait a minute, why did you get sent here, (Y/n)? The way you pounded on the door, I thought you were Sayaka again.” The girl laughed and (Y/n) mentally gave Sayaka her condolences. “Whatever, there’s a meeting in ten minutes. Why can’t I just bring it then?”
“They probably thought you would forget.” (Y/n) shrugged uncomfortably.
“Hey, you know what, that’s fair.” Midari nodded, “Hang on a second,” she slipped back into the room and came out a few seconds later with a stained and soggy looking piece of trash. “Here, now get lost. Unless you plan on joining me in here.”
“Wh... why is it wet? And what’s this stain?” (Y/n) made a disgusted face as she held the paper away from her, pinching one corner with her thumb and forefinger.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, (L/n).” Midari cackled, the sound continuing on even well after the door had been shut in (Y/n)’s face once more.
On the way back to the student council room, (Y/n) made a pit stop for a ziplock baggie and went to the restroom to wash her hands in the most scalding water she could handle.
***
“That was surprisingly quick,” Kirari smirked from her chair at the head of the table as (Y/n) knocked politely before letting herself in. Sayaka’s head swiveled in (Y/n)’s direction as well, looking more concerned than her amused counterpart. “Were you able to retrieve the file?”
(Y/n) nodded stiffly and presented the file, confined in the plastic of the ziplock baggie like evidence in a murder case, to the president.
“Oh my, it’s hardly legible,” Kirari spoke, her tone suggesting that she may have been mildly impressed by the paper. Or perhaps it was a morbid fascination. “And what’s this stain here?” She asked.
“I don’t know, I don’t think I’ll ever want to know.” (Y/n) replied, placing the plastic wrapped atrocity on the table. Sayaka pursed her lips and nodded as if (Y/n) had spoken some old, wise philosophical scripture.
“Oh well, I’m sure Sayaka can write up a fresh copy later. Congratulations on completing your first assignment, (Y/n). The meeting will be starting soon so please take your position to Sayaka’s right,” Kirari motioned to the girl standing behind her.
“That’s wholly unnecessary, president,” Sayaka shook her head, “We will look silly.”
“Not at all. Surely you can see the logic of wanting my right hand by my side. The right hand of my right hand is by extension, mine as well and needs to be close as such. (Y/n), take Sayaka’s right.”
“Uh, yes, president. Whatever you say,” (Y/n) moved around the table and stood a respectable distance away from Sayaka, directing her attention to the exotic fish swimming in the large aquarium nearby.
“Closer.” Kirari commanded, gently.
Without moving her eyes from the aquarium (Y/n) took a half step in Sayaka’s direction.
“Closer, (Y/n),” Kirari said again, “we must look like a cohesive unit.”
“It’s okay, (L/n)-san, I won’t bite.” Sayaka said, ushering the girl closer with a worried half smile.
“Unless you’re into that kind of thing.” Kirari amended with an amused grin, watching the second years sputter and gasp at her like fish out of water.
When the rest of the council members finally began filtering in, (Y/n) and Sayaka were stood almost shoulder to shoulder while Kirari sat sipping her tea with a satisfied expression.
Although the council had technically been disbanded because of the election, there was still work to be done that could not be held off without threatening the school structure.
“Wow, (Y/n), you really working here now?” Midari asked, doing a double take as she plopped in her seat. “I thought you were just looking for an excuse to see yours truly again.” Midari laughed, pointing at herself with her gun.
“Not really, no.” (Y/n) spoke dryly, arms crossed loosely over her chest.
“Oh that’s right, because you like-“
“Ikishima!”
As the door was violently pushed open to reveal the teen idol Yumemi,(Y/n) exhaled harshly, feeling heat crawling all the way up to the tips of her ears as she continued to watch the fish, not daring to even spare a hint of a glance through her periphery in the direction of Sayaka and Kirari.
“Ikishima, my whole stage still smells like a barn!” The idol gritted through a menacing smile.
“What do you expect me to do about it?” Midari said, swinging her legs onto the table.
“I’m ordering a deep cleanse and you’re paying for it!” Yumemi huffed, taking her seat as well.
“Bahhh, whatever.” Midari waved her off, earning a laugh from Runa as she flopped onto a nearby couch.
The vice president silently made her way to stand at the president’s left, taking a moment to stare between the three people at the head of the table. Or at least, (Y/n) guessed she was. It was hard to tell with the mask.
Yuriko came in last, looking a bit frazzled as she took her own seat. Once it was clear that everyone was situated, Sayaka began to recite the major talking points and the meeting began.
***
(Y/n) swears she almost fell asleep standing up. Only jolting out of her meditative state as chairs scraped against the floor signaling that the meeting must have ended. Her eyes darting to the clock on the wall, revealing that classes would start soon. Taking the time into account, she moved to the wall where she had left her school bag and hooked it over her shoulder before turning back to the president and her secretary.
“I can go to class now, right?”
“Of course,” Kirari gave a slight nod, “just give Sayaka a moment to gather her things and you can go together. Won’t that be nice?”
(Y/n) chanced a glance at Sayaka as she packed her bag full of folders, quickly averting her eyes when Sayaka looked up expectantly from her bag. (Y/n) discreetly cleared her throat, “Sure.”
“Ready to go?” Sayaka asked, shouldering the heavy bag with little effort as she stepped forward. Wow, she’s a lot stronger than she looks.
“Yes,” (Y/n) responded, walking over to the door to hold it open for the secretary.
“Do be back for lunch.” Kirari called.
“Of course, president.” Sayaka nodded, provoking a hint of warmth in Kirari’s charming smile before she turned her back to the door to face the vice president who seemed to eye her intently as (Y/n) closed the door behind her.
They didn’t make it very far down the hall before Sayaka produced a fancy, black, hardcover notebook and held it out to (Y/n).
“I took the liberty of taking notes for you in your absence,” she explained, a small, sweet smile upon her lips.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have, thank you very much!” (Y/n) stared at the notebook with a pleasant warmth building in her chest. She accepted the notebook, accidentally brushing fingers with Sayaka in the process. Her breath caught in her throat as Sayaka’s hand caught her own instead of falling away once the notebook had left it. Her other hand reached up to cup the notebook from underneath when it became clear that (Y/n) was about to drop it.
“It was no trouble but, I’m glad you’re back.”
“Haha, well, one of the president’s conditions of the gamble was for me to go back to class. I guess I couldn’t really hide in the library forever though.” (Y/n) shrugged, trying to be nonchalant while fighting off the emotions bubbling just below the surface.
“You were in the library?” Sayaka looked perplexed as students walked around them, a few giving inquisitive looks as they passed but otherwise hurried to class. “I must have checked there at least three times.”
“You were looking for me?”
“Yes,” Sayaka lightly squeezed (Y/n)’s hand and the notebook between her own, “I even spoke to that degenerate you sit next to, to see if they knew where you were. A useless conversation.”
“Why?” (Y/n) asked with a tremor in her voice, partially afraid of what Sayaka would say.
“I’ll be more than happy to explain at lunch, but we’re going to be late if we don’t start moving.” Sayaka pulled her hands away and motioned (Y/n) forward. (Y/n) fell into step beside Sayaka, heading to their classroom while her heart beat violently against her rib cage.
Upon entering the room mere moments before their teacher, Sayaka smiled kindly at (Y/n) before taking her seat. (Y/n) had her own dreamy look on her face that melted into a steady frown as she made her way to the back of the room and made eye contact with her sheepishly smiling friend.
(Y/n) plopped down in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.
“Hey.”
(Y/n) ignored them, focusing her gaze on the front of the room.
“Come on, (Y/n). I told you I was sorry!” Tsubasa whispered, scooting closer, “You can have my notes if you want, you kinda missed a lot.”
“I don’t need them. Besides, you take shit notes.” (Y/n) grumbled.
“How about I let you punch me in the face? Trip me into the fountain outside? What if I buy my favorite ice cream and right before I get to taste it, you knock the cone out of my hand?”
(Y/n) couldn’t help but snort at the suggestion, covering her mouth with her hand and shying away from the look the teacher sent her way before resuming his lecture.
“I really am sorry you know. I’ve missed by best friend.”
“I’m still mad at you, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t miss you too.” (Y/n) simpered.
“Wanna join the crew at lunch? I’ll buy.”
“I can’t actually,” (Y/n)’s smile became a little regretful, “I kind of belong to the student council now so-“
“You what!?” Tsubasa yelled, their voice commanding the attention of the whole classroom, even Sayaka looked back with a raised brow.
“Care to share with the rest of the class?” The teacher spoke coldly.
“No, sorry!” They squeaked, sliding further down their chair.
“Great, try to pay attention, please,” the teacher turned back to his presentation, “Now where were we...”
“Shit.” They sighed under their breath.
“Nice one.” (Y/n) whispered back with a grin.
“Well what do you expect when you drop a bomb like that? What happened?”
“Shouldn’t you be quiet? You’re already on thin ice.”
“What’s the worst he can do, this school is fucked academically anyway. Tell me what you’re doing with the stuco.”
“Okay, just don’t scream... I gambled with the president,” (Y/n) paused, watching Tsubasa cover their mouth and bend over their desk with shock. It was clear they were trying very hard to keep it all together as the lecture continued. “I lost and as per our agreement I have to go to class and assist Igarashi-san with student council duties.”
“Oh my god!” They gasped,
looking between (Y/n) and the back of Sayaka’s head. “Don’t you see what this means?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me what you think it means,” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, taking notes on the new slide of the presentation.
“What it means is you’ve earned yourself not one, but two potential girlfriends!” They grinned, flashing a  discrete peace sign.
“That’s not what it means at all.” (Y/n) deadpanned.
“Come on, (Y/n)! Since when does the president find interest in plebeians like us? And don’t you think Igarashi would have been absolutely livid to have the president’s attention on you and not herself? I mean, remember how snippy she was when Jabami first rose in prevalence?”
(Y/n) shook her head, “You’re being ridiculous. I’m probably only in Igarashi-san’s good graces because she knows about my feelings for her and it would stand to reason that she doesn’t have to worry about me taking her place or making moves on the president. And then the president! As if anyone knows why the president does any of the things she does. She was probably bored and thought it be funny to watch me make a fool of myself in front of Igarashi everyday.”
“Just you wait. You’ll be a part of their weird little role play before the month is out, I guarantee it.”
“Don’t say it like that! Also, it’s not gonna happen so drop it.” (Y/n) kicked at the exposed ankle across the lane.
“Do I smell a wager to be made?” Tsubasa smirked through the pain, rubbing their ankle.
“I only thing I smell is someone who needs to mind their own business and start taking notes, you degenerate.”
“Igarashi is rubbing off on you already I see.”
***
After four more hours of hushed interrogation, lunch period began. Sayaka waited for (Y/n) in the hallway and (Y/n) gave her troublesome friend a warning glance, daring them to say anything stupid.
“Hey, Igarashi. Take good care of (Y/n) now, okay?” Tsubasa dodged (Y/n)’s fist and waggled their eyebrows before dashing off to the cafeteria.
“Ignore them.” (Y/n) said, almost pleadingly.
“Right, shall we?” Sayaka motioned in the direction of the student council.
“Oh, is it alright if I grab something from the cafeteria first? I didn’t pack a lunch.” (Y/n) asked.
“No need, I’ve arranged for lunch to be catered to the student council room.” Sayaka explained, leading (Y/n) to the grand, wooden double doors.
Sayaka knocked before entering, holding the door open for (Y/n) to slip in before closing it once more.
“Excellent timing, a house pet arrived with lunch just a few minutes ago.” Kirari informed, moving to the parlor area of the large room.
“Shall I fix your tea, president?” Sayaka asked, already walking across the room to start the kettle.
“Yes, please do.” Kirari nodded before then focused in on (Y/n), standing awkwardly near the fish tank. “Come take a seat, (Y/n). Sayaka will join us soon.” Kirari smiled, gesturing to the lush armchair seated to the left of the loveseat where Kirari regally sat.
“Of course, thank you, president.” (Y/n) sat back in the cushioned chair and although it was the epitome of luxury, she kept her back rigid and both feet firmly planted on the ground, staring at her hands as she nervously picked at the edge of her skirt.
“Still so tense,” Kirari sighed, “What happened to my old maid partner over the weekend? I thought we had hit it off rather splendidly.”
“Oh! That reminds me...” (Y/n) dug her hand into her blazer pocket and fished out the joker card from last Friday, presenting it to Kirari, “I figured you would want this back.”
Kirari pulled one eyebrow up in amusement and reached forward. Much like she had done in the library, her fingers grasped passed the card and took hold of (Y/n)’s wrist. Her icy lips curled into an almost sinful smile as she tugged (Y/n) forward. Not enough to pull her from her seat, but enough to bend her closer with (Y/n)’s arm fully extended, held near Kirari’s knees. (Y/n)’s ears burned as Kirari leaned closer and blew directly into her ear, raising the heat tenfold.  (Y/n) had no escape from the close proximity as Kirari kept her wrist hostage.
“Thank you,” Kirari hummed, “Is this perhaps your way of suggesting we play again? I would happily indulge you for the right wager.”
“I, uh, um-“
“The tea is ready president.” Sayaka informed, placing the tea set in the middle of the table with a barely audible click.
(Y/n) noted the loosening of Kirari’s grip and used it as an opportunity to straighten back up and put as much space between her and the president as possible, but she feared it was already too late.
Sayaka’s shadow loomed over (Y/n) and she clenched her eyes shut. Sucking in a breath, she tried to prepare herself for the volts of electricity that were sure to come.
“(L/n)? Tea?”
(Y/n) slowly looked up at Sayaka, meeting her mildly concerned features before glancing down to Sayaka’s hands, noting the tea cup and dish that were held out to her.
(Y/n) blinked, thanking Sayaka and accepting the tea with shaky hands. She wasn’t going to get tazed? Sure, Kirari had been the instigator of the close contact, but (Y/n) had expected a murderous look at the very least regardless of who started it. Yet, here Sayaka stood before her, offering her tea looking as calm as can be.
“Sayaka, come sit with me.” Kirari implored, patting the spot beside her on the loveseat.
Sayaka moved with barely contained excitement and with her cheeks blushing faintly, she took her place right of the president.
(Y/n) smiled from behind her tea cup though her heart ached. They looked cute together, happy. Everyone in the academy had some inkling that the president and her secretary had some kind of relationship beyond their work on the council, but many assumed that Sayaka was being used. Simply a means to an end that would be discarded once the president grew tired of her. Based on how tenderly Kirari wiped a stray crumb from Sayaka’s beet red cheek, (Y/n) would have to disagree with her peers.
With the attentions of Kirari and Sayaka focused away from her, (Y/n) took the opportunity to eat her own lunch. Wherever Sayaka had catered from was really great. (Y/n) happily ate the food on her plate and enjoyed the fish swimming around the large aquarium, lost in her own world.
“Are we too dull to keep your interest, (Y/n)?” Kirari asked, piercing through the girl’s all too temporary peace. Sayaka peered over at her as well, whatever the intelligent eyes were searching for (Y/n) couldn’t guess.
“Not at all! I was just in my own little world, sorry! Did you need something?” (Y/n) sat stiffly in her chair once more, waiting anxiously for the president’s reply.
“Now that you mention it, there is something I need.” Kirari smirked lazily, a hand resting just below her lips. “Unfortunately now is not the time however. Not until I further discuss the details with Sayaka.”
Sayaka looked just as in the dark as (Y/n) was as to knowing what that meant, but she didn’t ask for any clarification on the matter. Trusting that her president would tell her what she saw fit when the time came.
“Just be more present with us. I want us to all be well acquainted and we can’t have that if you keep floating off.” Kirari added. (Y/n) nearly spat out her latest sip of tea when Kirari’s foot slowly dragged up her leg from her ankle to her calf before sliding back down and returning to its original position.
“Okay!” (Y/n) coughed. Some of her tea seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe.
(Y/n) was tense throughout the rest of the lunch period. Especially when the president seemed intent on making (Y/n) watch her feel up Sayaka. Okay, so it wasn’t like, explicit or anything but, still! By the end of the lunch period Kirari had pulled Sayaka close enough that she was practically sitting in her lap. Sayaka at least had the decency to look embarrassed but Kirari just kept talking to (Y/n) as if this was all normal behavior. And who knows, maybe for the president it was.
(Y/n) had never been more relieved to hear the warning bell in her life. She stood quickly, hitting her knees on the table as she did so. Luckily nothing had broken or spilled.
“I’ll just help clean this up quick then head off to class, is that okay?” (Y/n) winced, trying to discreetly rub her knees.
“Mm, that’s alright. A house pet will get it. You may head off to class. Sayaka and I have something to discuss,” Kirari ran her fingers through Sayaka’s ponytail, “be sure to come straight back here after classes let out.”
“Yes, president.” (Y/n) turned towards the door, counting down the seconds until she could breathe again.
“I’ll see you in a few minutes, (Y/n)...-san.” Sayaka called after her, still looking red. Perhaps even more so from addressing (Y/n) by her first name out of the blue.
“See you!” (Y/n) squeaked, feeling heat rise in her own cheeks. The president calling her by her first name hadn’t even affected her as strongly as it had when Sayaka just said it. Perhaps because Kirari didn’t seem the type to hold much stake in traditional formalities, but Sayaka certainly seemed the type. To call (Y/n) by her first name without asking her first, even with a formal honorific, it almost made (Y/n) swoon, as foolish as that may sound.
(Y/n) fumbled with the door handle and nearly knocked into the vice president by accident. With an apology quirk on her tongue she continued to walk briskly to her classroom.
“She sure left in a hurry.” Kirari hummed, resting her chin on Sayaka’s shoulder. Ignoring her sister flopping down on the couch. She may have been wearing a mask, but Ririka radiated exhaustion.
“I can’t say I blame her, president- Kirari, you were too... physical with your advances.” Sayaka replied, her hands reached up to cup her own cheeks in an attempt to cool them.
“I was just trying to be friendly, perhaps a little enticing, but how else would we let her know where we stand?”
“You’re moving too fast!” Sayaka exclaimed, “It hasn’t even been a full day since she has started interacting with both of us. You need to gradually work up to it, like with the Tower of Doors, like you did with me.”
“I seem to recall touching you just as much before the completion of the Tower, but perhaps you have a point. Should I be making (Y/n) a tower as well? I suppose it only seems fair.” Kirari looked as if she was already planning the schematics before Sayaka interjected, slightly panicked.
“No! No more towers. (Y/n) is smart, but as you have seen, she is not logical to the same degree as I, and you would most certainly kill her. I would not be able to bare it!”
“Oh, but how interesting it would be to test her mind to the limits.” Kirari spoke wistfully. “To have such an unconventional thought process for dealing with her problems. An irrational rationalism, rather oxymoronic, a paradox. Wouldn’t you say, Say-a-ka?”
“I don’t know why (Y/n) felt the need to touch a seemingly deadly cephalopod in an attempt to get out of answering a sensitive question, but you shouldn’t base a rule off of one experience. Stress has a way of making people do things they wouldn’t normally do. That being said, please don’t make her do anything dangerous.” Sayaka pleaded.
“My, so protective. I thought you said you only had a small crush on her before you met me.” Kirari teased, causing Sayaka to flounder about trying to find her words. “It’s alright, I can see the appeal.”
“The next class period is starting soon. What had you wanted to discuss with me?” Sayaka asked, hoping to derail the current topic of conversation.
“A gamble.” Kirari smiled.
“Ah, a gamble?” Sayaka sighed.
“Yes. I need something a little more stimulating than the election to keep me occupied,” Kirari turned to Ririka for the first time since she entered the room, “Perhaps my dear sister could play dealer for this little wager?”
“No.” Ririka deadpanned, the voice modulator giving the single word a bit more bite. “I love you Kirari, and you’re great Sayaka, but I’ve suffered enough watching you two dance around each other the better part of three years. I don’t want a front row seat to find out how you plan to add a third person into your dynamic.”
“No need to be so pretentious. All you needed to say was that you’re too busy trying to woo Saotome to help your poor, little sister.” Kirari shot back with light theatrics.
“I’m too busy trying to woo Mary to help you, yet again, with your own love life.” Ririka said, fishing her phone out of her skirt pocket to check a text before standing up. “Speaking of, Mary needs me.”
“That girl has changed you. Sometimes I worry it’s for the worse.” Kirari’s words poked at her sister’s retreating figure, hoping to get a rise out of her. She found that she quite liked trying to get under Ririka’s skin now that she had grown a bit of a backbone. Ririka did not give her the satisfaction though, opting to just flat out ignore her sister as she exited the student council room.
“So cold.” Kirari giggled.
“President, Kirari, the gamble?” Sayaka asked trying to get her back on track. She had less than two minutes to get to class now.
“Yes, here is what I have in mind...”
***
“What, you can’t go home now either? (Y/n), that is just tragic.” Tsubasa sympathized, patting (Y/n) on the back until (Y/n) slapped their hand away.
“Knock it off. All I need to do is follow the president and Igarashi-san around for an hour or two while the president gambles. Maybe fetch some things along the way. How hard can it be?”
“(Y/n)-san, are you ready?”
(Y/n) jumped when Sayaka came up behind her and turned swiftly in her direction, “Sure thing, Igarashi-san!”
“Bye (Y/n),” Tsubasa crooned with a mischievous grin, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“What are you even talking about? You know what, I don’t want to know.” (Y/n) waved them off and moved to fall in step beside Sayaka, following her to the student council room.
The halls had vacated rather quickly after school hours. Students usual were in a rush to get to the gambling dens or go home. Of course there was a small population that participated in extracurriculars as well, but in this school such things were of little importance.
After Sayaka and (Y/n) turned the first corner, the lingering voices from their classroom faded further into the background until all they could hear was their shoes clipping in near synchronization against the floor.
“Just Sayaka is fine.”
“Huh?” (Y/n) turned her head to face Sayaka, noting the flush of her cheeks as they continued walking.
“I have referred to you by your first name so you may call me Sayaka, I don’t mind.” She elaborated, still looking straight ahead.
“Oh! Sure, thank you, um, Sayaka-san.” (Y/n) stuttered out. Before long, her expression looked just as bashful as Sayaka’s. Never would she have dreamed that she and Sayaka would be on a first name basis! (Y/n) was already on a high from that objectively small step towards familiarity when Sayaka did something that nearly sent (Y/n) into cardiac arrest. She held her hand.
(Y/n)’s neck jerked from Sayaka’s pink face to their conjoined hands several times within the first few seconds of the unsuspected contact, her voice was strangled by her vocal chords allowing only the most pitiful confused squeaks to surface until she quickly clamped her own mouth shut with her free hand.
“I’m sorry, I have poor circulation. Y-you don’t mind warming my hand for a minute, do you?” Sayaka’s delivery was almost smooth, but even if she hadn’t fumbled with the line, the look on her face was anything but calm and confident.
“You’re fine!” (Y/n) winced internally. She sounded much too enthusiastic and spoke much too quick. Sayaka was going to think she was a creep for sure now. But no, Sayaka did not seem overly bothered by the quick reply. She actually seemed, relieved?
“We never did get to talk about why I was looking for you over lunch.” Sayaka stated, seemingly content to carry on a conversation while their hands swayed between them with each step.
“No, I suppose we didn’t.” (Y/n) replied. Her heart twinged, thinking back on how close Sayaka and the president had been. She needed to remind herself not to get her hopes up about Sayaka, even if she was currently threading her fingers between (Y/n)’s own.
“You must know by now that I saw the broadcast, Midari’s gamble.”
(Y/n) swallowed audibly, hoping desperately that her hand wouldn’t start sweating. “I figured as much. But the president did tell me that.”
“I see. Well, I wanted to talk to you about what you said. About your truth. I needed to talk with the president about it first of course. Then by the time we had it sorted out, it had been a few days and I had already noticed you hadn’t been in class at all so I had started looking for you. I wanted to tell you—“
“Don’t worry about it!” (Y/n) cut in with a forced smile, “I already know what you’re going to say.”
“You do?” Sayaka asked, (Y/n) almost believed that the secretary had gripped her hand harder just then, but quickly pushed the thought away. Chalking it up to more wishful thinking.
“Yeah, I knew I never had a chance. I was actually kind of hoping you just wouldn’t bring it up, but knowing you, I should've guessed you would want to follow the rules of etiquette and reject me formally.” (Y/n) had said, struggling to keep the melancholy out of her tone.
“(Y/n),” Sayaka actually looked rather pained, but the expression was lost on (Y/n) as the other girl tried to distract herself by looking out the windows they passed. “That’s not what I-“
“There you two are. Having fun without me I see.” Sayaka and (Y/n) whipped their heads forward, watching Kirari walking towards them as the student council room doors closed behind her with a dull thud. “Need I remind you that there are gambles that require my attention?” Kirari smirked lightly.
Sayaka looked momentarily torn before finally addressing her president. “I apologize president. I hadn’t realized we were running late.”
“Oh, you weren’t. I’m just feeling antsy today I suppose.” Kirari shrugged her shoulders lackadaisically before making a show of noticing Sayaka and (Y/n)’s connected hands. “My, I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything just now. Look how close you two are already. I think I might even be jealous.” Kirari said, her soft smirk never once faltered as her glacial eyes pinned the underclassmen in place.
“She said her hand was cold is all!” (Y/n) quickly explained, and although her hold on Sayaka’s hand slackened, the secretary did not take the invitation to remove her hand. “You’re more than welcome to take my place. I’m sure she’d prefer your company anyway.”
“I see,” Kirari’s eyes drifted over Sayaka for a moment, “Unfortunately, I suffer from the same ailment. In fact, I’d argue I’m worse off than Sayaka in that regard. I hadn’t realized you would be so valuable, (Y/n),” Kirari closed the distance between them, surprising (Y/n) by slipping her hand into (Y/n)’s free one. “Mm, yes, I could get used to this.”
If (Y/n) thought Sayaka’s hand was cool to the touch, Kirari’s was literal ice. Were the rumors of her being a vampire true? My god, her hand was down right freezing maybe the blue coloring of her nails wasn’t even polish.
“Well then, the gambling hall awaits. Not that I care to appease the masses, but Sayaka insists I entertain the delusions of the smaller fish.” Kirari sighed.
“I want to see you come out on top of this election, president. Every vote counts.” Sayaka stated matter-of-factly.
(Y/n) just stared blankly ahead as they strolled down the hall, occasionally looking down at her hands, each encompassed by the hands of the president and her secretary who continued to talk around her. She would have pinched herself if she had a free hand to do so.
Before they entered the den, Sayaka and Kirari disengaged, breaking (Y/n) from her trance just in time for (Y/n) to tune into the president’s words now directed at her.
“I do hope you have a vivid imagination, (Y/n). I can’t fathom that any of these matches will be particularly entertaining to watch.”
Sayaka looked the slightest bit irked by the president’s behavior, but it was very subtle. Especially when devotion and loyalty always seemed to shine most prominently when she looked at her. Sayaka motioned (Y/n) to open the left side of the double doors while Sayaka herself opened the right, allowing Kirari to saunter right in. Any ambient noise that they had heard before died instantly upon the president’s entry.
The trio made their way to the back, center table and Sayaka pulled out the vacant chair that would serve as Kirari’s throne for the evening. Kirari sat gracefully, hooking one knee over the other she smiled down at the students who had already gathered around the free seats before connecting eyes with the election committee member who would serve as their dealer.
“Let us not waste anymore time. What are we playing tonight?” Kirari asked. (Y/n) could only see her side profile from where she stood beside Sayaka, but she swore those endlessly blue eyes were glowing.
***
Despite Kirari’s warning, (Y/n) found she was not bored at all. Kirari was a gambling beast. Claiming vote after vote until none remained and the room was quiet for a whole other reason, everyone had left, dejected and voteless.
“Another clean sweep Momobami-san. I’ll be sure to process the votes before the updated rankings come out tomorrow.” Inaho informed.
“I see. Thank you for your diligence.” Kirari replied offhandedly as she rose from her seat. “Sayaka, is my car waiting out front?”
“Of course, president.” Sayaka nodded.
“Let’s be on our way then.”
(Y/n) walked with them until they reached the school gate. Expecting to go their separate ways from there, but when she made to continue past the expensive black car, Kirari stopped her.
“I hope you weren’t planning on waking home. It’s already quite late you know.”
“I always walk home, actually. It’s really not that far. I’ll be fine.” (Y/n) assured.
“If you live so close then come with us. I’ll have the driver drop you off.” Kirari left no room for argument, cementing her position by waving (Y/n) into the doorway Sayaka had pulled open.
“If you insist...” (Y/n) crawled in and sat at the far end of the car. She was amazed at how spacious it was in there and how soft the seats were. The vehicle also still had that new car smell, (Y/n) vaguely wondered if the Momobamis just bought a new car every week.
Kirari crawled in soon after her, followed by Sayaka closing the door tightly behind her. The secretary signaled the driver before pushing a button that closed the privacy window, blocking the driver’s view of them in the back seat.
(Y/n) tilted her head to look out the window however, her jaw was quickly snapped up between icy fingers, pulling her vision back to the interior of the car.
“Not this again.” Kirari tutted, keeping her hold on (Y/n)’s jaw, “Sayaka and I are right here. Surely you could spare us a few minutes of your attention.”
“Sorry.” (Y/n) gulped, feeling the icy fingers slide down her cheeks to her neck before pulling away. Staring at the two of them, their eyes, it was like being caught between the deepest depths of the sea and the furthest reaches of outer space. It was intense, who could blame (Y/n) for trying to look away.
“Ah,” Kirari startled (Y/n) by leaning fully against her side, resting her cheek fully against (Y/n)’s shoulder, “what a dull evening this has turned out to be. It’s only Monday as well.”
(Y/n) felt more weight press her a tad further against the car door and saw Sayaka lean against Kirari in turn like the three of them were toppled dominos.
“Keep pushing on president. The weekend will come faster than you think.” Sayaka assured, reaching one arm over Kirari to cover (Y/n)’s hand that was picking at the hem of her skirt, stilling the movement and further confusing the poor girl.
“Mm, but do I have anything to look forward to this weekend dear Say-a-ka?” Kirari playfully tapped Sayaka’s nose for each syllable of her name, causing the secretary’s nose to scrunch cutely.
“Well, that’s the gamble, isn’t it?” Sayaka answered back, her eyes shifted to meet (Y/n)’s as of trying to convey something to her.
“Mm, I suppose you’re right.” Kirari agreed, joining Sayaka’s hand over (Y/n)’s.
“What gamble? Is it for the election?” (Y/n) asked, dipping a metaphorical toe into the conversation. Even if Kirari seemed to want her attention, that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted her commentary. She still didn’t know where she was supposed to fit in this new role. Kirari, however, seemed pleased with her query.
“No, it’s a separate affair. I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out. Sayaka rarely indulges me when it comes to such things. Tell me, (Y/n),” Kirari’s eyes glinted, “which of us do you think will come out on top?”
“Kirari!” Sayaka scolded halfheartedly.
(Y/n) felt her cheeks prickle with heat. Was that supposed to be an innuendo or did Sayaka simply want to keep the gamble to themselves? She wasn’t sure. Still, it would be unwise to drop the subject when the president was so clearly waiting for an answer.
“I’m afraid I’m not sure, president.” (Y/n) answered diplomatically. “What are you gambling for, if I may ask?”
“That, dear (Y/n),” Kirari drew in close, “is a secret for another time.”
(Y/n) gulped at the proximity then sighed when Kirari pulled back to play with Sayaka’s ponytail. She was somehow both relieved and disappointed to have her own space back.
“It appears we’ve reached your destination.” Kirari spoke as the car came to a smooth stop at the curb. “Be sure to get a good night’s sleep. Don’t think Sayaka and I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under your eyes.”
“Yes, please sleep well (Y/n).” Sayaka echoed, earning a chuckle from Kirari.
“You also sleep too little for my liking. Don’t think I forgot about that ‘accidental’ phone call at four in the morning last week.” Kirari taunted lightly.
“Kirari!” Sayaka covered her eyes, embarrassed.
“I’ll try to get some sleep.” (Y/n) smiled, stepping out of the car. She bent over to look back in, “Thank you for the ride. Good night, sleep well. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
(Y/n) stood straight up and closed the car door. She walked to the curb outside her house and waved at the car as it picked up speed and disappeared down the road.
No one else was home. They were either out working or out on business retreats or cocktail parties so the first thing (Y/n) did upon entering her home was yell about the fucking weird turn her life was taking.
***
It was Friday and (Y/n) felt like she had aged thirty years in the last four days. For some reason beyond her comprehension, Sayaka and Kirari had become even more... touchy, since Monday. Every touch, especially from Kirari, seemed methodical. Like they were trying to provoke a certain reaction from (Y/n). What kind, she wasn’t sure. But they would often say some sweet words and get way too close to (Y/n)’s face. Close enough that if (Y/n) didn’t keep her wits about her, she was worried she’d close the short distance and kiss one of them.
“I don’t know what they’re making you do over there in that council room, but I think you need to ask for a vacation or something because you look like shit.” Tsubasa had lovingly told (Y/n) during class.
“I don’t know what they’re trying to do to me.” (Y/n) groaned, rubbing her palms harshly against her eyes.
“What are they doing to you?”
“I don’t even know how to explain. ‘Don’t think I want to.” (Y/n) leaned further into her desk.
“They’re trying to seduce you already, huh?” Tsubasa grinned.
“No!” (Y/n) hissed back. “Stop saying stuff like that!”
“Well, whatever’s going on, you clearly need a break.”
“I would love a break, but in case you forgot, I pretty much sold my soul to the president for the rest of high school. It doesn’t seem like an option.”
“I have an idea. What if you just, broke your legs?” Tsubasa suggested, looking pleased with themself. (Y/n) frowned at them, unimpressed.
“How the hell would that help?”
“Bed rest. Can’t really follow them around all day with broken legs now can you?”
“They’d probably get me a wheelchair. It’s make more sense to fake having tuberculosis or something. Rather than actually break my own legs.”
“Oh now you’re all about self preservation. Where did octopus girl go?” Tsubasa mocked jokingly. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.
“That’s it!”
(Y/n) and Tsubasa jumped in their seats and all their classmates swiveled in their seats to look back at them. Their algebra teacher seemed to have finally had enough of their little conversation.
“(L/n)-san, can you tell me what I just said?”
“No sir, I apologize.” (Y/n) quickly replied, heat crawling up her neck and settling in her cheeks.
“That’s what I thought,” the teacher shook his head despondently before switching his gaze to Tsubasa who looked largely unaffected, “I’m not even going to ask you. I need both of you to stay after class.”
“But, but lunch!” Tsubasa cried, their expression turned on a dime.
“It won’t take long. Everyone else may leave a few minutes early so we can have the classroom to ourselves.”
(Y/n) watched everyone else get up to leave. Her eyes caught Sayaka’s and she felt even more embarrassed at the sympathetic wave she gave her before following the rest of the class out of the door.
***
“Man, that teacher had no chill today, huh?” Tsubasa grinned when they finally came out of the classroom.
“Yeah, now I’m late. Thanks for making me suffer through that talk.” (Y/n)’s frown deepened.
“It’s about time honestly. I was starting to think he had a bias against me.”
“My work shows I’m learning something. You never get above a ‘D’, so of course he’d be more pissed at you.” (Y/n) looked up at the clock on the wall and noted the time,  “I’ve got to get to the student council room. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, maybe we should get in trouble more often. I hardly get to see you these days.”
“I’d really rather not make a habit of getting chewed out by teachers. I got to go.” (Y/n) called over her shoulder, already making her way to the student council room. When she arrived, the door was already partly ajar and she heard Sayaka and Kirari talking to each other.
“Time is running out for our little gamble Sayaka. At our current standings it appears that we both may lose.”
(Y/n) paused just out of sight. She had forgotten about Sayaka and Kirari’s secret gamble. With a wave of curiosity flowing through her she stood quietly, waiting to see if she could hear anything else about the wager.
“You do like a challenge, Kirari. I can’t imagine she could hold out much longer though. I’m sure (Y/n) would have kissed me yesterday if you had not sent Midari to interfere.”
(Y/n) knew what Sayaka was referring to instantly. Yesterday, she and Sayaka had paused to sit at the fountain in the courtyard. Sayaka had told (Y/n) she had something in her hair and combed her fingers through it, smiling tenderly all the while. They had been so close, then Midari ran up and belly flopped into the shallow waters, dousing her fellow Sazanka classmates with it. (Y/n) never would have thought Sayaka had actually wanted to kiss her before that moment.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kirari giggled, “Besides, (Y/n) and I have had a few close encounters ourselves. It’s anyone’s game.”
(Y/n) was in shock. We’re they really trying to make her kiss on of them for a gamble? Her blood began to boil. Was this all just some funny game to them? They knew about her feelings for Sayaka, they had to be making fun of her.
(Y/n) roughly gripped the door handle and swung the door open, startling Sayaka, but Kirari simply looked back with a raised brow and an amused smile.
“I don’t care that I have to be a secretary to a secretary for the rest of my days at this academy, but I refuse to be played with like this!” (Y/n) shot angrily. “Oh, (Y/n)’s so pathetic and desperate! Let’s see if we can get her to kiss one of us so we can laugh about it later!” (Y/n) mocked. “Well, I refuse to be walked over like this.”
“Oh, (Y/n)! It’s not like that I swear!” Sayaka pleaded, stepping towards (Y/n) only for the other girl to step away from her.
“(Y/n),” Kirari singsonged, “you are talking about things you do not fully understand. Come sit so we can discuss this and shed some clarity on the situation.”
“No!” (Y/n) clenched her firsts tightly against her sides. “I need some time to myself.”
“(Y/n), wait!” Sayaka called after her, but (Y/n) was already darting out the door and jogging down the hall.
She kept going, slipping out a side exit and headed to one of the back trails of the school forest. As she continued on, she happened upon a small pond, filled with algae. There was a large flat bolder at the shore that looked about just as good a place as any to host a mental breakdown so she sat there, pulling her knees to her chest. (Y/n) sat there looking at a frog that rested half submerged in the duckweed and algae. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket but she ignored it.
“Fuck school.” She muttered to herself. She was sure it was a text from Kirari. Lunch period had ended ten minutes ago and she was supposed to be in class right now. “I’m taking a vacation day.”
Something startled the frog and it dipped under the water, leaving the duckweed to swirl above the disturbed surface. Then a body came into (Y/n)’s peripheral and sat beside her on the boulder and she jerked her head to fully take in the invader.
“Vice president.” (Y/n) stared at the upperclassman, startled by her ghostly presence “What are you doing here?”
“Kirari tasked me with retrieving you and returning you to your studies.” Ririka’s voice crackled beneath the mask.
“I see. I can’t say I’m surprised, it was part of the deal after all.” (Y/n) frowned pensively.
“It was too easy to find you. Now we will just have to stay here for awhile. I could use a nap.”
(Y/n) stared at the vice president, her mouth slightly agape while she watched the masked girl lay back against the rock. Ririka laced her fingers over her stomach and released a relaxed breath. Though through the modulator it sounded more like a ghostly moan.
“You aren’t going to make me go back?” (Y/n) asked.
“Not yet, making Kirari wait should be a more than fitting punishment for being such an idiot.”
“Hh... huh?” (Y/n) didn’t know what to think about any of this. Was she seriously hanging out with the vice president now? Listening to her call the most terrifying person in the school an idiot?
“She has a uniquely awful way of dealing with her feelings that is simply exhausting. I thought once she and Sayaka got together she’d smarten up a bit, but Sayaka continues to indulge in her nonsense.” Ririka looked up at (Y/n) through the black mesh that covered her eyes, “They really do like you, you know.”
“You must be mistaken, vice president.” (Y/n) shook her head, a humorless laugh bubbled past her lips. “It’s all just for some stupid gamble.”
“I never said they were good at conveying it in a way that makes sense.” Ririka shrugged. “Kirari’s idea of a love letter to Sayaka was a five story tower that came with a four out of five chance of death. You should feel relieved that they dialed it back for you.”
“I don’t understand. I heard them talking. It was all for a gamble to see who could make me kiss them.”
“Did you hear what the wager was?” Ririka asked.
“No, but does it really matter?” (Y/n) sighed, looking back out at the pond.
“The winner would get to go out on a date with you first and the loser would have to pay for it.”
(Y/n) stared down at Ririka incredulously.
“Believe me, I know it makes no sense. They both intend to date you, but they don’t seem to know how to go about asking.”
“But, aren’t they already dating each other? I don’t...” (Y/n) went quiet, trying to piece it all together. Her head was starting to hurt.
“It all started during the tournament. We noticed Sayaka was agitated watching the event, but we really didn’t understand why until the octopus round. Kirari wouldn’t let it go, of course. So she finally got Sayaka to admit that she had a crush on you before meeting her.” Ririka recalled.
“Then they spent the following couple days talking about that, and about the possibility of inviting you to join them on a date and then, yeah, you see where that all spiraled off to.”
“That’s... they really like me like that?” (Y/n) whispered.
“Yes, you have my condolences.” Ririka’s phone rumbled in her pocket and she took it out to check it. (Y/n)’s phone rumbled not too long after.
While Ririka read her sister’s text, (Y/n) read her own.
Five new messages
12:14pm
President Momobami: (Y/n), I hope you aren’t planning on backing out on our agreement. I will give you one class period of reprieve, then you must get back to class. We will talk after school.
12:15pm
Igarashi Sayaka: (Y/n), where are you? I’m so sorry, but I swear it’s not what you think.
12:18pm
Igarashi Sayaka: I’m worried about you. Please come back.
12:19pm
Igarashi Sayaka: Please talk to me. At least let me know that you’re okay.
1:02pm
TsuBAKA: where r u? Igarashi looks feral lmao but srsly what u up to?
(Y/n) sighed and turned off her phone without answering any of the messages.
“It’s time to head back, (L/n)-san.” Ririka stood and stretched, “Please don’t make me drag you back as the president suggests.”
“Okay,” (Y/n) scooted off the boulder and smoothed her skirt into place, “thank you for explaining everything to me, Veep. I’m still kind of worked up, but this really helped.”
“When you work as closely with the president as I do, damage control becomes second nature.” Ririka deadpanned.
When they made their way back into the building it was within the five minute break between class periods. (Y/n) waved goodbye to Ririka before walking into her classroom where students were quietly talking amongst themselves. Immediately she heard a desk chair screech harshly against the floor and she looked up just in time to see Sayaka push her right back out the door. She took her by the hand and pulled her down the hall and turned the corner to a more secluded hallway.
“Ah!” (Y/n) gasped when Sayaka pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Sayaka scolded. “We really need to talk.”
“And we will,” (Y/n) pulled back from the hug a bit, “but first we better finish the school day. I’m already on thin ice for violating my contract with the president for one class period.”
“Don’t worry. She understands, we both do,” Sayaka took (Y/n)’s hands in hers, “But before we have to sit through another three class periods, I want to tell you how sorry I am. I promise it’s not what you thought, we just went about it in an entirely inappropriate way and I promise you I’ll do everything I can to make it right!” Sayaka proclaimed, growing steadily louder with each word, making (Y/n) wince, but also smile a small, appreciative smile nonetheless.
“Thank you, Sayaka. You’re well on your way to fulfilling that promise already.” (Y/n) lightly squeezed Sayaka’s hands before letting them go, making the secretary blush. “The teacher will be in soon, better get back to class.”
“Right.” Sayaka followed (Y/n) back into the classroom. Taking her seat, she had finally taken notice of the drumming of her heart. At least (Y/n) didn’t seem as devastated as she had when she stormed out of the student council room, but now she was worried for a whole other reason. Would (Y/n) still be interested in her after all of this, or was it all too much for her?
“What was that all about? Trouble in your office role play?”
“Shut up, Tsubasa.”
***
The classes dragged on and on. When they were finally done, all (Y/n) really wanted to do was go home and sleep the weekend away, but life had other plans.
Sayaka watched (Y/n) gather her belongings intently. As if she was afraid (Y/n) would disappear if she withdrew her gaze. With one last annoying look from Tsubasa, (Y/n) approached Sayaka and they made their way to the student council room together. Sayaka’s mind was whirring with the proper sentiments to convey to her classmate, yet she held her tongue. Deciding it would be best to do so with the president by her side.
Upon entering the room, they saw Kirari gazing into her aquarium. She was seemingly too lost to hear them enter, but of course someone like Kirari Momobami was never one to be caught off guard. Kirari turned to face her underclassmen, offering a slight smile.
“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise. Are you done with your tantrum?” Kirari teased, much to Sayaka’s chagrin.
“President!” Sayaka warned, cheeks red.
“That depends,” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “are you going to explain yourselves?” (Y/n) doubted that the vice president would lie to her, but to hear it directly from the horse’s mouth would make her feel much more secure.
“Explanations,” Kirari sighed, moving to stand in front of (Y/n), “I don’t do explanations. Not in anyway that makes sense, at least, according to Sayaka,” smile never changing she turned her head to Sayaka, “perhaps you could explain the logistics of it, Sayaka?”
“I should have expected as much,” Sayaka grumbled lightly, earning a chuckle from Kirari. She took (Y/n) by the hand and sat her down on the large, plush couch nearby before taking a seat next to her, “(Y/n) in order to keep this as simple as possible, I’m going to be very brief. I’ll be happy to answer any questions once I present our case.” Sayaka spoke as if she was getting ready to do a presentation.
“Mm, so methodical.” Kirari hummed, taking the empty seat on (Y/n)’s other side, making their thighs touch despite the ample space left on the furniture. Sayaka ignored her and began her explanation.
“The president... Kirari and I, want to date you. Kirari came up with the idea that whichever one of us you kissed first would get to take you out somewhere first while the other had to pay and stay home. It wasn’t our intention to hurt you. We really should have just asked you like the vice president suggested. I’m really sorry.”
“I’m confused,” (Y/n) started, trying to ignore how Kirari kept dancing the fingers of one of her hands up and down (Y/n)’s thigh, presumably out of boredom, “If you both want to date me, why wouldn’t you just... why was the gamble a one or the other thing? Why wouldn’t you both get to go?”
Kirari’s fingers stopped tapping and Sayaka’s face drew a blank. (Y/n) took the silence as a sign to keep going.
“Like, okay, say this somehow worked and one of you took me out on a date. Then what? Did you think you could just... switch off? Were you actually planning to approach me about polygamy or was it supposed to be some kind of surprise? And doesn’t it sound backwards to kiss before we actually start dating anyway?”
“We hadn’t thought about that.” They answered in comical unison after a few moments of dead air silence.
“Wow, now I understand why the vice president is so tired.” (Y/n) released a laugh of disbelief, “You two are kind of hopeless, no offense.”
“I would advise you watch your tongue, (Y/n),” Kirari shifted her weight to loom over (Y/n) with their faces inches apart, “I had previously chosen to ignore your insubordination earlier, but if you’re going to tempt me, a punishment may be in order after all.”
“Here is the new gamble,” Kirari continued, eyes gleaming, “kiss Sayaka, and she wins, kiss me, and I win. Whoever loses still has to pay for the excursion, but gets to tag along. Of course, you could choose to walk out the door if you so desire. Just keep in mind that I technically own you.”
“Kirari! You can’t just coerce her like that! We already failed with the first gamble attempt. I’m all gambled out, can we not push (Y/n) further away please?” Sayaka pleaded.
“I’ll do it.” (Y/n) shrugged, standing up from her seat and turning to face the other two girls still on the couch.
“You... you will?” Sayaka asked. She really couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah, can you two stand up, please.”
“My, (Y/n). I must say I didn’t expect you to take the bait after our misunderstanding earlier,” Kirari stood up, poised as ever, “I’m excited to witness your choice.”
(Y/n) stared between her two choices, eyeing their expressions, their body language, for any last second tells that this was all just a dream or a cruel prank and found nothing. She took in a deep breath and nodded to herself.
“President.”
“Yes?” Kirari smirked. She hardly moved forward before (Y/n) stopped her.
“Could you lean down a little? A little more... great.” (Y/n) cupped Kirari’s left cheek and startled Sayaka by cupping the secretary’s right cheek. She pushed the duo’s heads together until they were cheek to burning cheek and angled their surprisingly pliant faces until they were more or less kissing each other awkwardly with the corner of their lips. With one quick look at her handy work, (Y/n) hummed and leaned in. It was hard to do so with so many noses in the way, but she tilted her head back and managed to land a chaste kiss on both the icy blue and glossy pink lips before her.
“Ha, bet you weren’t expecting that now, were you?” (Y/n) pulled back with a grin. It hadn’t been a sexy first kiss, but it was going to be a memorable one, that was for sure.
After a beat of silence, Kirari began to laugh. Sayaka smiled beneath the hand she had brought up to her lips.
“So now what happens?” (Y/n) asked, feeling a bit smug for finding some kind of loophole in the gamble, until- “MMPH!”
Kirari’s lips met (Y/n)’s fervently and just as quickly as she descended, she pulled back just a hair to speak, her lips brushed against (Y/n)’s now quivering ones with each word. “That’s the best part, (Y/n),” Kirari paused for a kitten lick at the corner of (Y/n)’s lips, “You see, we had discussed what we would do if you had decided to play us both in our original gamble. Since Sayaka and I have both won, we choose what we will do together, the three of us, and you will pay.”
“What!?” (Y/n) felt sweat slide down her cheek, swearing she could hear it sizzle out once it came into contact with the heated flesh. Her tongue darted out of her mouth of its own volition to taste the tacky flavor of the blue lipstick residue Kirari had left on her lips. Kirari was going to kiss her like that and then try to pull a fast one on her like that? “You can’t do that! That was the previous gamble! The rules changed when you presented this new version of it to me!”
“Perhaps you should have asked me what would happen in the event of a tie then. I had decided your punishment would be for me to withhold the trivial information about ties.” Kirari smirked, running her fingers through (Y/n)’s hair. “If it makes you feel any better, your solution was still a bit of a surprise. We had only accounted for you kissing each of us behind the other’s back, not kissing us at the same time. Had you tried to be secretive in your advances, Sayaka and I would have had a lovely night to ourselves at your expense.”
“Oh that’s such—!” (Y/n)’s jaw was pulled to the side and her lips were captured by someone else. This kiss was much softer, and lasted a tad longer. When Sayaka pulled back
(Y/n) had forgotten how she was going to cuss out Kirari, which was probably a blessing.
“I know it was an absolute mess to get to this point, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m so glad Midari came up with that idiotic gambling event.” Sayaka smiled, resting her forehead against (Y/n)’s arm.
“Yes, this has been quite the interesting development. I’m looking forward to seeing how this turns out,” Kirari added, speaking more as if this was a science experiment rather than a major change in a relationship dynamic with not just (Y/n), but Sayaka as well.
“You two are so fucking weird.” (Y/n) laughed breathlessly, swinging an arm around both of them to hug them close, “You’re both lucky I like you guys so much.”
“You’re lucky you piqued my interest or you would find yourself as a house pet before you could say mittens.” Kirari easily replied.
“Get along you two. Can we not just enjoy the moment?” Sayaka sighed.
“Are we not getting along? I thought we were doing just fine.” Kirari asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.
“Sorry Sayaka.” (Y/n) apologized sheepishly, hesitantly resting her cheek on the top of Sayaka’s head.
The door to the council room clicked open and Sayaka and (Y/n) startled and moved away from their little group huddle.
“Oh, it’s just you.” Kirari smirked as she watched her sister come in and close the door behind her. “Look Ririka,” Kirari spoke, a hint of excitement audible in her tone as she pulled Sayaka and (Y/n) back to her body, “I’ve got two girlfriends. That’s 200% more girlfriends than you possess.”
Ririka rolled her eyes beneath her mask. “Godspeed, (L/n)-san.”
“You always tell me how unconventional-“
“The word I used was convoluted.” Ririka interjected, (Y/n) snorted.
“But it obviously works,” Kirari continued on, not at all discouraged, “if you need me to set you and Saotome up with something I’ll gladly offer you my expertise.”
“Entirely unnecessary. Besides, if Mary so much as smelled you anywhere near the vicinity of where we were, she wouldn’t be happy about it to say the least.”
“Have it your way, dear sister,” Kirari  shrugged, looping her arms with Sayaka and (Y/n)’s, “we three have much to discuss for our outing tomorrow so we’ll be on our way. I’ll see you when you decide to come home.” Ririka waved dismissively while Kirari guided Sayaka and (Y/n) out the large double doors.
“But, election gambles!” Sayaka’s reminder went ignored.
“Wait, sisters?” Ririka heard (Y/n) ask as the trio left the room and she shook her head. Ririka’s phone buzzed and she checked the text and smiled.
3:32pm
Mary: Hey dumb dumb, done talking to evil incarnate yet? I’d like to get to that movie before the previews start.
3:32pm
Ririka: omw <3️🏻
***
Saturday came and (Y/n) prayed for her bank account. She was far better off financially than a scholarship student, but she wasn’t Momobami level rich. She still couldn’t believe she had to pay after all of that nonsense. She waited outside of her house, casually dressed as per Sayaka’s instructions. When a familiar sleek, black car pulled up to her she got in and was warmly greeted by her dates.
“Alright,” (Y/n) smiled nervously, “what have you two decided on for today?”
“We’re going to drive to the ocean, have lunch at a lovely local bistro, and then walk along the beach. Isn’t that right Kirari?” Sayaka leveled a look at Kirari that screamed no funny business.
“Yes,” Kirari sighed, “I wanted to go to the moon again, but Sayaka wouldn’t agree to it.”
“T... to the moon, again.” (Y/n) slowly parroted. She turned to Sayaka and shared her gratitude to the secretary with a light kiss on the cheek and a whispered thanks for rescuing her trust fund.
Lunch was great, a lovely view of the ocean from the outdoor deck they were dining on. They shared bites of their meals together, talked and laughed. They had a wonderful time and (Y/n) was surprised by the normalcy she felt sitting there with Kirari and Sayaka.
Then they walked on the beach, feeling the sand squish and grind between their toes. (Y/n) carried both hers and Sayaka’s shoes with one hand while the other was entangled with Sayaka’s fingers. Sayaka’s other hand was held by Kirari as the lightly swung their hands with each step. Eventually they slowed down and found a nice place to sit for awhile and watch the waves with some ice cream from a nearby vendor. After their rest, they continued walking along the shore, looking for neat shells and rocks.
As the sky turned pink, they watched how the sun seemed to get swallowed by the sea and they took that as their sign to start heading back home. They made their way back up to the nearest sidewalk where their driver was already waiting for them and piled into the car, giggling and recapping their favorite moments of the day.
They were about halfway home when Sayaka fell asleep. The car being as spacious as it was, allowed for the secretary to be maneuvered so that her head rested in (Y/n)’s lap and Kirari could move to sit on (Y/n)’s other side to leave room for Sayaka’s legs. Kirari and (Y/n) continued to talk quietly together. (Y/n) yawned, prompting Kirari to pull (Y/n)’s head into her chest.
“Sleep,” Kirari soothed, cool fingers rested against (Y/n)’s hairline, “I’ll wake you upon our arrival.”
(Y/n) nodded against Kirari’s chest and dozed off. Allowing the smooth motions and gentle whirring sounds of the car, as well as the even beats of Kirari’s heart, to lull her to sleep.
Kirari watched the blurred city lights come into view from the far window of the car. Her left hand lightly massaged (Y/n)’s scalp while her right held Sayaka’s. The younger girl had a cute habit of sleeping with her hands near her face, sometimes going as far to completely cover her nose and mouth. Kirari often wondered how she could even breathe like that. Kirari chuckled quietly and raised Sayaka’s hand to her lips, giving a kiss before lowering it again gently, the movement stirred Sayaka, but ultimately she remained asleep, snuggling further into (Y/n)’s lap.
Next, she rested her face in (Y/n)’s hair, inhaling the newer scent that seemed to compliment her own and Sayaka’s so well. She could really get used to this. Kirari pressed a kiss in (Y/n)’s hair. Kirari didn’t receive a reaction, but she simply chalked that up to be due in part by the stress of the week wrecking (Y/n)’s sleep schedule.
Kirari would have felt regret for having to wake them both, if not for the fact that she was excited to see their sleepy, grumpy faces staring bleary eyed at her. It was far too cute.
“This isn’t my house?” (Y/n) mumbled tiredly, rubbing her eyes.
“You disclosed earlier that your household is empty most weekends. Sayaka’s and my own are much the same. It will be nice not to have to spend the rest of the night alone, will it not?”
“I guess, but I’ll probably pass out as soon as I touch a pillow.” (Y/n) shivered as the cool night air hit her body. Sayaka, who was also too tired to function, latched on to (Y/n) in an attempt to keep warm.
“That’s the plan, now please, come in.”
If (Y/n) wasn’t so exhausted she would freak out at the vastness of Kirari’s estate. They got into a freaking elevator at one point and then kept walking down the grand corridor passing door after door, until they finally stopped at one and Kirari ushered them inside. Large fish tanks framed the walls, painting the dark room in a soft blue, ambient light.
Kirari guided (Y/n) and Sayaka to the bathroom to brush their teeth and to just get ready to sleep comfortably in general. Sayaka already had her own toothbrush there and scrubbed at her teeth with her eyes drooping shut.
“Don’t forget to take out your contacts.” Kirari reminded her softly before opening a nearby cabinet to supply (Y/n) with a toothbrush of her own. (Y/n) never would have dreamed the girl who came up with the house pet system could be so gentle.
The three girls brushed their teeth and washed their faces. Then they changed into some pajamas that Kirari had provided and made their way to the opposite side of the room where the bed lay. A bed that probably could sleep a family of five comfortably.
Kirari pulled back the covers and crawled in. Sayaka was quick to follow and was unusually demanding, curling into Kirari while also tugging (Y/n) in behind her. They snuggled into the silky sheets, holding each other close. (Y/n) had almost fallen back asleep before Sayaka sat up in bed with a cute, little frown on her face.
“Wait, goodnight kisses.”
(Y/n) almost laughed, simply believing Sayaka was too tired to filter her thoughts and desires, but the Kirari sat up as well
“I almost thought you had forgotten, Say-a-ka. Here,” Kirari pulled Sayaka in and gave her a short and sweet kiss that made the secretary hum happily.
“(Y/n),” Sayaka turned with an uncharacteristic pout, sleepy Sayaka was too cute, “come up, you too.”
“Okay, I’m coming.” (Y/n) sat up, allowing Sayaka to clumsily bump into her lips before the secretary fell back against the pillows, content.
“May I have one?” Kirari smirked, leaning over Sayaka’s body between them.
“You may.” (Y/n) had hardly gotten the words out before Kirari swooped in.
“Good night.” Kirari whispered, noting that Sayaka had already fallen back asleep.
“Good Night, Kirari.” (Y/n) smiled back as she wormed back under the covers to snuggle against Sayaka’s back. Kirari slipped back under the covers as well, draping an arm over Sayaka side and one of (Y/n)’s arms to rub them soothingly with her cool, soft skin.
Before long, Kirari and (Y/n) fell asleep along side Sayaka to the sound of bubbling water and the hum of the fish tanks surrounding them.
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tooweirdforyou · 4 years
Text
Top 5 OP Boys Best to Comfort You
Whether it’s because you’re sad, stressed, etc.
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A/N : please enjoy. I apologize if it’s not great.
Summary : the top five boys, in my opinion, that would be best at comforting, I guess.
-
5. Red-Haired Shanks
— sorry, but Shanks wouldn’t be able to give a proper hug. Jokes aside, Shanks is a nice, playful and light-hearted guy who will get down to business if needed. He’s so understanding and if he sees that you’re feeling stressed or anxious about something, he’d immediately offer you a drink but if not, he’ll pull you to a private room and just sit you on the bed to talk. Nothing else.
You’re sitting in his lap as he rubs smooth circles on your back and letting you sit there and rant but if you don’t want to talk, then silence it is. He’ll keep ensuring you that you’ll be okay. If you ever need anything, Shanks will make sure you get it.
“If you ever need anything, I’m right here, darling. I’m always available by your side, no matter what.”
-
4. Vinsmoke Sanji / God Usopp
— this was difficult so I decided to put both.
— Sanji loves and cares for everyone deeply, even Zoro, so obviously he cares about you. When he finds you crying one day, he’s quick to jump by your side and make sure you’re alright and not in any pain. When you bury yourself into his arms and chest, he’d blush a little before remembering that this was serious and lift you up bridal style, closely to him.
He’d carry you to the kitchen instead of a bedroom and place you down at the table before going over to the kitchen area and ask what you want to eat or drink. Even if you refuse, he still makes something in hopes it’ll cheer you up and offers to listen while he prepares it. When he’s done, it’s in front of you and you find yourself enjoying it with Sanji watching with a warm smile, holding your free hand in his across the table.
“My Angel, let me have the honor of being the warmth and care you need.. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’m right here with open arms, [Name]-chan. Trust me. It’ll get better.”
— Usopp, this boy would make panic and look to see if you’re hurt then would repeatedly ensure you that a protective strong warrior is there to protect you. After all jokes are made, Usopp turns solemn and is sitting in front of you, cross-legged and gently asking if you’re willing to share, so he can help.
His eyes are glossed with sadness in them and glassy with tears from your mental pain and stress. First, Usopp would make light jokes and lies to help pull you from the dark place and to lighten the mood. But then, he starts to hold your hand and assuring you that nothing was fair and it’ll be hard and stressful and cause lots of pain, but, it WILL subside. It’ll go away sooner than you think and that you will be okay, because Usopp knows what it’s like. He eventually got out and Usopp will be right by yourself to get you out.
“It’s difficult.. you feel like everything’s crashing down on you and you just can’t handle it.. I get it.. but [Name].. you have to believe it’ll get better! I promise it will! And I, God Usopp, will be right there beside you when you do.. I promise.”
-
3. Marco The Phoenix
— He immediately knows something is wrong when you’re being distant from him so he’d confront you. He’d tell you to meet him on the main deck late at night and when you show up, he’s standing there and kneels down away from you. He’d tell you to get on and before you could react when you did, he’s immediately jumping and now soaring into the sky, flying in circles above the ship with you on his back.
You’re holding onto him tightly and as much as you are scared, you’re actually enjoying it which makes Marco smile before finally questioning you and your distance lately. You’re quiet before you finally admit the truth, Marco listening intently as he flies around calmly. When you tell him about your troubles and anxieties, Marco is calm and he just has the softest smile you’ve ever seen.
“So that’s what it is-yoi..” he would fly for a bit longer before going down gently onto the deck and set you down. Marco isn’t one for hugging, especially not an open area like the deck, but that’s what he does, only for a quick second. He takes your hand in his and gently kissed the back of it. “[Name]-yoi, you should have just came to me..” he leads you to his room and sets you down on the bed and sits beside you, laying you down.
“Feel free to cry, rant or sleep. I won’t judge you, all of us have been through these rough times.. it’s hard-yoi.. but, we’re in this together. So next time, just come to me, okay-yoi?”
-
2. Donquixote Rosinante / Corazon
— His long limbs and tall body, ROSI IS PERFECT to have by your side when you need comforting. Rosi would take a bit of time to realize something is wrong, especially when he’s gone for so long. The day he is finally coming home, he calls you up like usual and asks how you’re doing.
He would be so happy and cheery that he nearly misses the quiet sniffle and quiet, sad tones in your voice when you talk and it breaks his heart and makes him panic. Obviously when he asks, you tell him it’s because you’ve been feeling lonely, since Corazon has been gone for so long. You just want to be in his arms and feel at ease and safe.
Rosinante’s crushed heart is slowly swelling with warmth and love at your confession and just then, the door opens. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m home then, [Name].”
You would be in such shock that you didn’t notice him standing by the doorway with his arms spread and ready for you to hug, which you quickly do. You’re running to him at full speed and jumping onto his tall body, with his long arms quickly wrapping around your torso tightly and he’d fall onto the ground to sit you on his lap.
Tears are streaming down your cheeks rather quickly and you just grip the fabric of his shirt in your hands and bury your face in his chest.
“I’m sorry for not coming home sooner.. Work took longer than expected..” his smile softens as he closed his eyes and pets your hair, securing you closer. “But no worries, my love. I’ll be with you from now on. I’m not going anywhere, unless it’s with you.”
-
1. Monkey D. Luffy
— I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Luffy is one of the best captains ever because he OBSERVES. he’s a huge dumbass, strong as fuck dork and just a weird playful kind of guy who cares and would do anything for his family and crew, so underneath all of that is a observing, self-conscious and sweet kind of person that you would die for honestly.
Luffy knows something wrong immediately but can’t exactly pinpoint it, he just knows that you aren’t yourself. But overtime, he realized that you’re dealing with a lot of personal pain and it kind of destroys him. Is he failing as a captain? As a friend? Figuring it was a personal problem, Luffy waits until you’re alone at night and walks up to you.
You see him and greet him until he walks up close and stands there. And then, he raises his arms and hugs you. Tightly. He stretches his arms to double loop them and just stands there with his arms around you in silence.
You’re stunned, about to laugh it off and pull away when his voice reaches your ears.
“[Name]. It’s okay. You can cry. No ones around to judge you. You can let it out now. In front of me.”
Though you were shocked, all the built up stress and pain you’ve been storaging suddenly breaks at those words and you find tears dripping down your cheeks from your eyes. Many falling much faster than the previous ones before you’re sobbing into his shoulder, standing there with Luffy hugging you silently, his hat lowered to cover his eyes.
“Never..never forget that I.. we are here for you, [Name].”
-
A/N : you guys I want to write a comfort fic but I don’t have the energy to do so, so can someone please recommend me some comfort fics? :/
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lebrookestore · 3 years
Text
tape 5: play
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Pairing: Zhong Chenle x reader
Themes: angst, ex! au, college-ish au, small town au. It goes back and forth a lot
Warnings: heavy angst, bittersweet ending, swearing, its very sad, chenle is a jerk
Wc: 6k
Playlist: 2 kids by Taemin, Gone by Rosé, Instagram by Dean, I still do by Why Don’t We, Believed by Lauv
Taglist: @danishmiilk @channoticedmeuwu @chicksung @1-800-seo @blueprint-han @jenosslut @cupidluvstarrz @kkakkdugi @sweetlyjaem @vera-liscious @leetaeyonglover @kunrengui @unknown5tar @kisshim @intokook @mrkcore @coco-riki
Summary: A year after your boyfriend moved away, you find yourself sitting in your room with five tapes, earphones, a cassette player and what you hoped, and feared, was closure.
Authors Note: hello! this fic was supposed to be a small blurb but then i got inspired and lo and behold its a full fledged fic! I can’t believe I wrote this in two days sdfjfjkfjk. Feedback would be very much appreciated for this, since I’ve never written anything like this before ;-;
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Midtown, almost got a place out of midtown, Instead I took a plane out of this town, And missed out on us 
~
It was a sunny Saturday morning, as you pulled into your driveway, coming back from the store. 
Parking the car and getting the bags, you walked up to the door, knocking it and waiting. You were met with your mother’s smiling face as she took one of the bags of groceries from you.
You lived in a small sleepy town, and attended the college there as well, which meant you still stayed with your parents. You were fine with that, you liked living there, and you could forgo the stress and anxiety of having to re adjust to a new place.
This was your home. It always had been.
Of course, you had been on holidays to other places, you had visited the other town, but when it came to it, you had always found yourself back where you started. There was no other place for you, there never would be.
It was the truth, but it held something bitter.
Then again, you had enough going on already, with being in your freshman year, straight out of high school, college life was very different. You had been to a total of two parties so far, courtesy of your best friend— Lia— dragging you with her. 
You had enjoyed them, but it wasn’t something you would voluntarily participate in again.
The workload was something that had definitely changed, bogged down with mandatory lectures and assignments, tests popping up like a bad smell, you had more than enough to occupy you.
“Something has arrived for you!” Your mother said, almost excitedly, “It’s on the table.”
You helped her put away the groceries, walking to your living room, eyes falling on the package sitting on the table. It was somewhat shabbily wrapped, with tape haphazardly stuck on it to keep it together, and a tag pasted on the top.
Picking it up, you pass it from your right hand to your left, feeling its weight, reading the little tag. It held your address, your name and another name you hadn’t seen in almost a year.
Your mind ran at a hundred miles per minute, wondering why it was here, why his name was on it. It made no sense to you.
“Darling? Are you okay?”
Your mothers voice snapped out of your reverie, nodding slowly, “I’ll be in my room, finishing off a project”, you said carefully, trying not to show any sort of emotion as you climbed up the stairs of your house, two at a time, making sure not to drop the package.
Closing the door, you place it on your bed, reading over the tag again, a bitter taste filling your mouth. A name you hadn’t thought of in a year coming back now. It was so random, so absolutely unnecessary.
You curled your fingers around the messy brown paper, tearing it open as your mind reeled. The crackling sound filled the silence as the contents of it make itself known to you.
A shoebox.
It’s dusty, a dark blue colour with a line of red running at its side. There were two holes on either end, lined with metal piping and you could just about make out the nike symbol on the top. You brushed your hand over it, the dust coming off easily and sticking to your fingers.
Why would he send you this?
His name sticks out on the tag like a sore thumb, reminding you of what you lost, mocking you. Always content with where you are, hmm? His voice comes back, as clear as day. It’s as if he’s standing there, giving you his chesire cat grin as he spoke the words.
Zhong Chenle.
Lifting the lid off the box, you’re thrown into confusion. A cassette player, a pair of earphones, and five tapes. Picking up the player, you smile briefly at the dramatic set up. He could’ve called you, or sent a message, so why did he take the pains of sending you something as old and unnecessary as this?
Then again, it had been a year since he stopped picking up your calls, since you stopped trying to call him.  A year since all contact had been cut off, as if he had never existed in the first place.
Sometimes you wondered if Chenle had been a hallucination. An imaginary friend.
Friend.
The questions filter in. Why? It had been a year, so why had he sent you this now? You had finally told yourself you were over it, that you didn’t need an answer, but somehow as soon as you did that, you found yourself sitting in your room on your bed with what could be it.
The tapes were numbered in permanent marker in his messy handwriting, from one to five, indicating the order in which they were to be listened to in. You picked up the first, slotting it in the player and waiting.
You didn’t know what you were waiting for.
You pressed play. There was crackling, but only for a moment, until  it went silent. Maybe this was all a mistake, maybe this wasn’t even happening. Maybe-
i] tape 1: you deserve to hate me
Hey
His voice cut through your spiraling thoughts as you froze in place. He sounded the same as you last heard him, a little muffled due to the recording but the same. At the same time he sounded like a stranger. There was silence for a moment again, before he spoke up.
This is stupid isn’t it?
You felt the urge to answer, but your mouth went dry. It had been so, so long, and even though you had adequate time to get over him, it suddenly felt as if you were treading unfamiliar territory once again. 
I-I don’t know why I’m doing this. I think it’s because I feel so horrible, I need an outlet. I guess speaking it into existence and recording it makes is my outlet. Making it all real.
But that’s fucking terrifying.
You don’t think you’re following, confused once again. 
Y/n
You hear him take a deep breath right after your name, and it sends a chill down your spine, hearing him say your name once again. You had almost forgotten how it sounded.
I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, or listen to it. If you don’t I’ll actually be glad. You don’t deserve to, I’ve been a jerk to you. I’m sorry. I hope you hate me, I definitely deserve it.
I’m moving in two months.
The realization hits you, this had been recorded a year ago as well, two months before he left without a word or warning. It was old, he was here when he recorded it.
You didn’t quiet know how you felt, not yet anyways.
And you won’t know until I’m gone.
I’m moving to Korea, and I refuse to tell you, even if it makes me the bad guy, even if it feels worse, because that’s my dream. 
I got signed by a record label after sending them that demo I did —remember it? We both went to the studio together, you listening outside as I sang. You were right by my side, all the time.
Except now when I record this, except when I leave. 
I refuse to tell you, because the moment I do I know it’ll be real, realer than it is now as I say it. I don’t want to see the look on your face when I say I’m going, I know it’ll make me want to stay, but I don’t want to stay.
You knew exactly what he was talking about, you could recollect that day clearly. There was a small studio a little outside the town. That day, he had booked it for two hours to record a demo, his singing mentor with him and you tagging along.
It had always been like that, the two of you against the world, until, of course he left.
I physically can’t stay, I hate it here Y/n. It’s not for me, I want to get out, that had always been the plan. I want to get out and be free, I want to achieve my dreams. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe I don’t deserve a minute more of your time, but I want it all.
That’s why I’m not going to tell you —so I can have it all, at least until I don’t have you.
But you, you don’t deserve this, do you? Of course you don’t, but I suppose you’re the one with the shitty luck, you’re the one who ended up with me and now I’m going to hurt you. 
He laughs a dry, breathy laugh. It was half hearted, as if he was trying to get himself to believe the situation was funny. 
It’s not your fault I-fuck I’m sorry.
You heard a click and the tape died off, he had stopped recording there. The first tape was finished, and honestly, you didn’t know how to react. One part of you wanted to feel nothing, you wanted to put the player and the five tapes back into the box and send them away, or lock them in your closet to never find them again.
But the other part of you wanted to know more. You wanted to know how he felt, what went through his mind during that time. You wanted to know just how you lost Chenle, the first boy you ever loved.
Suddenly you felt overwhelmed, vulnerable almost. It was as if someone had opened up an old wound and left it open.
You got to your feet abruptly, pulling the earphones from your ears and dropping them on your bed, taking a step away and blinking rapidly. You couldn’t get caught up in the past, you couldn’t put yourself through that again.
But it was hard when the past was in your present.
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Wasted, and all of my regret, I can taste it, If I had a time-machine, I would take it, And make it back to us
~
That night you couldn’t sleep.
The box sat on your desk, right next to your laptop, staring at you. You turned around on your bed, looking the other way, only to be met with the white of the walls.
You never liked the colour white.
It was too plain, too open for interpretation. It never had a solid answer. You liked stability, you wanted something permanent. You were the type of person that needed that reassurance.
Perhaps that’s why you were happy where you were, you didn’t find the appeal in starting over, because that meant nothing was certain. You stayed where you were because everything was already laid out for you.
It was like a colouring book in your little town, the lines all set out, everything drawn for you. Change meant you had to sketch everything from scratch. What if you messed up?
Needless to say, it was a good thing you weren’t an art major.
“This is ridiculous”, you whispered to yourself, sighing at the fact that you were now talking to yourself. You rolled over so that you were lying on your back, staring at the ceiling. The glow in the dark stars shone with their dull green light. You remember the day you had put them up, with Chenle.
You shared a lot of memories with him.
“Fucking hell”, you hissed, sitting up, swinging your legs off the edge of your bed and walking to your desk, sitting on the chair. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you picked up the second tape, inserting it in the player and putting the earphones on, waiting for it to begin.
ii] tape 2: milk before cereal
I know I’m making some terrible decisions, I really do, but if there’s one thing I stand by, its the fact that milk definitely goes before the cereal.
Why am I talking about this?
Well, because today you came over, Y/n, you came over and the two of us were watching a movie, and in the middle of it, you decided you wanted to have cereal, specifically frosted flakes.
So what do we do? We have cereal because I can’t say no to you. You’re welcome by the way, honestly, I deserve the boyfriend of the year award.
A moment of silence.
No I don’t. I really don’t.
You bit your lower lip, shutting your eyes. It was the way he switched, the way his demeanor changes so suddenly that made you want to scream. Sometimes it felt like he was telling a story, one you knew and loved.
Only for the next moment to bring you down to reality, reminding you that all stories don't have happy endings.
Anyways, we got the cereal and you objected when I put the milk first, saying that it was wrong, but how? In what way? Here me out Y/n, I shall tell you why I’m right, even If I’m not actually talking to you.
You couldn’t help but scoff at this, shaking your head at Chenle. He had always had a flair for being dramatic in the littlest ways possible. It was endearing.
Putting the cereal first means it sits in the milk for longer! If you put the cereal last, you can have it crunchy! Isn’t that ten times better? Unless you’re one of the devils spawn and like soggy cereal. If so I’m hypothetically breaking up with you right here right now.
Ah...bad wording. I keep forgetting I have to break up with you. I don’t want to, is that selfish?
You deserve the truth, if only I was strong enough to give it to you. Staying silent is so much easier.
It’s not lying, not completely anyways. I’m not lying if I don’t tell you at all. I suppose it’s a half truth then, with the truth hidden in plain sight. 
*click*
Lying. That’s what he did, even though he spent the last few minutes of the tape trying to justify it, he lied. He trampled all over your heart without a single warning.
You had trusted Chenle, having known him since you were thirteen. He had completely destroyed that trust. Something like that couldn’t be fixed so easily, not even if he had sent you these tapes.
Then again, you didn’t know why he sent them.
You retreated to your bed, turning away from the tapes, the words and memories they held, facing white once again.
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You had met Chenle when the two of you were thirteen, in eight grade math. The boy was failing the class, and one day you found him sitting early morning in class, with his head in his hands as he groaned over some sort of equation.
You had offered to help, and the smile he gave was the brightest one you had ever seen, he was practically grinning from ear to ear. That was the beginning of your friendship, and the two of you were inseperable.
Ninth grade it was confirmed that the two of you were best friends, sitting together, complaining about teachers together, going places together so your parents didn’t need to tag along.
In your last year of high school the two of you started dating, and when you had told your parents, they were ecstatic, confessing they had always thought the two of you would end up together.
He was always there for you, every time you needed him. You could give him a call and he would be outside your door. If you were feeling insecure or scared, he was always there to hype you up.
You had been best friends before, you were lovers then, and it was amazing. You loved everything about being with Chenle. You loved everything about him, from his toothy grin to his obnoxiously loud laugh.
You loved the way his eyes sparkled when he had an idea (which, for the most part, were absolutely terrible. Needless to say the two of you got in trouble a lot), when he sang for you when you stayed over, the way he would always make sure you were never cold.
You loved him.
It was written in the stars, you were meant to be, it was the perfect combination. Chenle was the right person for you- the perfect person.
A year later you woke up with him gone, no texts, no warnings. He had just gone, leaving you alone.
Right person, wrong time.
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Monday came around sooner than you thought it would, the weekend passing in a blur as you walked out of your first class, spotting Lia leaning against the wall outside your class, scrolling through something on her phone.
She was an exchange student, not originally from your town, but had fit right in. Sometimes you wished you could be like that.
“Oh! You’re out! Listen, there’s a party on Friday and you’re coming with me”, she stated. It wasn’t a request, it was a fact, you were to go with her. In her own words, ‘if I didn’t exist you’d probably have no social life.’
To be fair, she wasn’t wrong.
You nodded defeatedly, walking with her down the hallway, “I assume you want to go because of the cute new guy?”
She glared, but didn’t refute your accusation, “His name is Mark”, she said, “And that is none of your business.”
You snickered, “Oh it so is, you like him don’t you? Is this going to be another one of your crushes?”
Lia was notorious for having a new crush almost every week, being a very flighty person, her mind changed before you could even say her name. This was a bit of a problem, considering you went to her for advice a lot.
Her indecisive nature was not the best for that.
She rolled her eyes at this, “He’s cute, why not? Wonder if I can get him to dance with me at the party. You’re going to be my hype woman-”
“And the sober buddy?”
Lia ignored that.
“Also there’s this new singer”, she said, handing you one of her earbuds, “apparently he came from here!”
Taking one of the earbuds, you were hit with a familiar voice. It sounded amazing honestly, catchy, everything a song needed, but it was the voice that hit you. You didn’t even need to ask Lia for the singer, swallowing the lump in your throat and glancing at her phone, which confirmed your suspicions.
Filling with some sort of dread, your hands immediately went to hold your hand, specifically the bottom where the cassette player and the tapes were. You had been carrying them around with you, as if scared they would disappear if you left them alone.
“Isn’t he good?”
You nodded, not daring to answer as you bit your lower lip, “Hey Lili, I need to use the washroom so see ya later”, you said, handing her the earbud and taking off in the other direction, pushing open the doors to the washroom and getting into one of the stalls.
You had stalled listening to the next tape all Sunday, you didn’t even know why, but hearing him sing, that fact that he had actually made it, it struck something in you. You wanted to feel proud of him, but all you felt was bitter.
Was it a coincidence that this new singer had come out- Chenle himself- right when you received the tapes?
Pushing the top of the toilet down, you took a seat, taking the player out and plugging in, you pressed play for the third tape, waiting for it to begin playing.
tape iii] ill miss our dates
Remember when we went for that field trip? Ninth grade? We sat in the back of the bus together avoiding the stares of our teachers when they told us to sit down?
Then they pulled us apart? Yeah, mean fuckers.
Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about, I just felt like reminiscing for a sec there, but today we went of a date! Well, I mean we got ice cream and then went to the park, but hey, it was fun.
You smiled. He had always jumped from one topic to another without any meaning to either. Sometimes it was a frustrating habit, (you had been on the receiving end of these useless conversations several times, which ended with you glaring at him exasperatedly), but for the most part, extremely comical.
I’m going to miss that. I’m going to miss you. Your little smile — have I ever told you just how pretty your smile is? Your eyes light up and crinkle at the sides and its something I don’t think I’ll ever forget, even when I’m gone. 
You clutched the cassette player, marveling at the irony. He was talking about your smile, but why did you want to cry?
It’s a month left now, and I want to make the most of it. Tomorrow I’m taking you to the amusement part and then next week I’m surprising you with dinner. I guess doing things for you —for us — makes me feel better, like I’m compensating.
You deserve the world Y/n, and I want to see that world while you’re happy where you are.
You don’t deserve having to deal with me.
*click*
Your eyes burned, because you remembered each of those events. You had been so happy, so overjoyed at them. They burned with tears because there it was again, that reminder that you were destined to be stuck right where you were, because you were that idiot who was content.
But if someone, anyone, asked you at that very moment if you were happy, the answer would’ve been an outright no.
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1 YEAR AGO
~
“Hey Chenle?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you want to leave?”
The boy thought about this for a second, before smiling wistfully, “Don’t you want to know how it is outside home?”
“But everything I need is here.”
Your eyes held a question, you were genuinely baffled by his reasoning, the way he was so stuck of getting out. You studied your bewildered expression, shaking his head. “You’re lucky”, he said finally, “You know exactly what you want.”
“Of course I don’t, but I know what I need Chenle, and that’s all around me.”
He shook away his other thoughts, “Hey maybe we’ll go exploring the world together some day. 
You blinked, “You want me there with you?”
He nodded, grinning widely, “I want to take you along, Imagine, it’ll be fucking awesome, and hey this time there will be no teachers to separate us. We can even stand in the bus-if we’re taking a bus, that it.”
You laughed, “Maybe”, you mused, looking back down at your phone, “While I don’t exactly see the appeal, it would be fun to be with you.”
Chenle’s smile faltered, but he didn’t let it fall completely, wrapping his arms around you and sighing, closing his eyes and whispering something just loud enough for you to hear.
“Maybe.”
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Why did it feel this way?
Chenle was right- you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to feel this way at all. It had been a year, so why did it affect you?
Why was it all happening at once?
You clicked your tongue, eyeing the player with contempt. You felt pathetic for being curious, for still feeling so attached to old news. It wasn’t as if it was going to change anything, so why?
Why did you still want to know?
Curiosity killed the cat. You wondered if knowing would somehow kill you.
No one was at home currently, so you sat in the living room on your couch. The items you were trying so hard to ignore were sitting on the small table in front of the couch, as if waiting for you to pick them up once again.
You wondered if you should tell Lia and ask her opinion about the situation. She may not be that helpful, but hell, she could help you burn the tapes if worse came to worse.
Sometimes you wished you had never met Chenle, that your history with him could be erased from your memories. You wished it never existed because fuck, it still hurt.
Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and pressed play.
tape iv] firsts with you
Do you remember our first kiss?
We were eighteen, in my room, playing Jenga. That was a year ago, oh god, I can’t even imagine, how has it been a year? You were wearing one of my shirts and jeans, your hair was in a ponytail. The two of us were sitting on the carpet on my floor.
You had successfully gotten one of the wooden pieces out of a risky area of the tower, but then it was my turn, it feel to the ground, destroyed.
I blamed you, and you laughed, and our banter continued. We argued and at one point I started tickling you to get you to shut up, because honestly-Jesus Christ Y/n you’re fucking stubborn.
Anyways I ended up on top of you and the two of us were laughing. You looked so pretty, hair messily scattered around your face as you attempted to get out of my hold. 
I leaned down and kissed you.
Your throat closed up as he spoke. Your eyes stung and you raked your hand through your hair, biting down on your lower lip. The way he was speaking about it, as if he would do anything to go back, it struck something in you.
Because if you had the chance, you would go back as well.
You tasted like that strawberry chapstick you liked to wear. I could tell you were surprised, because you didn’t kiss me back for a good two seconds  —which, by the way sent me into a panic for a moment there.
But then you kissed me, and fuck, it was like everything had stopped. I couldn’t think for a second, it was like the world had started spinning around me, and the only thing that was keeping me grounded, was you.
Was it supposed to hurt like this?
You sucked in a sharp breath, fingers fisted the material of your shirt as you tried keeping your composure. You didn’t want to cry, but he was making it so, so hard for you. 
You remembered how it felt when he kissed you, you were legitimately so confused, was he really kissing you? Your best friend, the boy you had loved quietly for so long, kissing you?
Chenle was your first kiss, and it was the most perfect first kiss you could have ever asked for, even if you were on the floor, with random Jenga blocks scattered around the two of you.
The smile you gave me after I pulled away, I wish I could remember it forever. It was goofy as you burst into giggles, and asked me, “What was that for?”
I blinked in surprise, wondering how you seemed so normal, when for me everything had changed. I had kissed my best friend, the one girl I care the most about.
I must have looked like a tomato oh god.
Instead of waiting for my to answer, you sat up, pulling me into another kiss. This time it was me who was unprepared. The kiss was messy, it had no structure or plan, but I realized in that moment, that I really liked kissing you, and I wanted to do it more often.
You became my girlfriend.
The wistful tone he was using was starting to affect you. You had loved Chenle, almost too much. You could almost feel that nostalgic happiness you felt that day when he kissed you for the first time, the disbelief and joy that wrapped around the two of you. 
A wave of sadness followed that nostalgia.
Our first date was so fucking awkward. We were at that little cafe you loved, you ordered a cheesecake and I got a smoothie, and then we sat in silence for a good five minutes.
It really shouldn’t have been that painful, considering we knew everything about each other already, then again that might be why it was awkward, I had nothing to ask you about.
So naturally I brought up school and that started it, the two of us complaining about the amount of assignments we had, and Mrs. Choi’s annoying squeaky voice- I swear to god that woman took a second for each word.
But I digress.
Slowly our conversation felt normal again, it was just us, eating cheesecake and drinking smoothies, together.
That wave of sadness crashed down upon you like a tsunami, trying to snuff you out. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, you were struggling to keep yourself together. You were struggling to stay afloat, you had lost any leverage you had that was holding you up.
You couldn’t fight the waves.
My flight is in two hours. It’s four in the morning and we’re about to walk through the door and get to the airport, but I wanted to talk to you once again, even if we’re not really talking.
I’m pathetic.
You’re sleeping, in your bed at your home, you don’t know I’m going because I’m the coward that refused to tell you the truth. I’ll be gone by the time you wake up and then you’ll know.
You’ll know how much of a waste of time I was.
And then you were angry.
You were angry because he had no right to just come back into your life like this, no fucking right to make you cry. He wasn’t even here, but somehow he had managed to make you fall apart just with his words, with his voice.
He had no right to tear your world apart, the little composure you had standing. You had finally accepted the fact that he was gone, you had moved on, and even tried to forget.
But here he was, making sure you could never forget.
You hated how selfish he was, how absolutely fucking oblivious. He had no clue, not even one as to how you felt when he just disappeared from your life, as if he never existed. He had broken you and here he was, breaking you again.
With trembling hands, you stopped the tape from playing any further, angry tears making their way down your face as you flung the player across the room. You had no intention of listening any further, you didn’t want to, you didn’t care.
Closure hurt more than him leaving.
You buried your head in your hands, letting yourself fall apart, but just this once.
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tape iv] continued [unheard]
I’m sorry Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry. 
You don’t have to believe me, because I’m leaving anyways, so I suppose that cancels out my apologies huh? I’m the worst person you ever met. I’m not stopping, I’m not going to leave you a text.
Because I don’t want to hurt you anymore.
I’ll be gone before we could ever be.
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Should’ve believed in us, while we existed, cuz now the whole things fucked, and just a figment of my imagination
~
Time heals all hurt, and reminders bring them back, cutting through your skin like a knife, making you bleed.
A week later, you found yourself sitting in your favorite cafe, the same cafe Chenle talked about in the last tape. You ordered a cheesecake and a smoothie, inserting the fifth and final tape into the player.
The last time you did this, you were left hurt and distraught, promising yourself you would never go back to listen to him again. You had put the shoebox in your closet, hiding it behind your clothes that hung from the rack.
Yet here you were.
You didn’t bother finishing the fourth tape, you didn’t see the need to. 
This tape, you observed, was newer looking, with less scratches on the plastic, even the marker on the side looked more recent, a little rushed if you went into detail. 
The cheesecake and drink arrived, and you took a bite, pressing play.
tape v] play
Hey.
He sounded a little different too, older perhaps. His voice was smoother, but he sounded unsure of himself. It sounded as if he was trying to figure out how to approach the topic. He was being cautious.
It’s been a while. I...I don’t know why I’m doing this. There’s no point- you’re not even here. I found these stupid tapes yesterday in my dorm when I was cleaning out and gave them a listen.
Silence.
I envy you, Y/n. I wish I was like you, happy wherever I was. But I’m not, and I probably caused you great unhappiness while trying to search for my own- but I was happy with you, so happy it was ridiculous.
I sabotaged that.
You sighed, realizing you felt nothing. You were tired of crying over Chenle, you were done doing that. Instead you felt empty, like you had been tired out, like it didn’t matter anymore. At this point you were to get it over with, to finish it off on  clean ending note.
My song comes out next week, and it’ll be done. I’ve made it Y/n, I’ve gotten to where I wanted to be, the place I had worked so hard to get to. I’ve sacrificed so much for this and it’s all been worth it- except one thing.
I don’t expect you to listen to my song, I just wanted to tell you. I..I hope you’re proud of me. Even if I was a jerk, I hope you can be proud, at least a little bit, because then I’ll have finally made it.
I miss you.
The same words are at the tip of your tongue, I miss you, I miss you so fucking much, but they never came out. They didn’t have to, it would be useless. He would never hear them.
Instead, you swallowed them back down.
And even though I made fun of you for staying home, I hope you’re happy like I am, I hope we’ll meet again one day. If we do I challenge you to a game of Jenga, loser buys the winner ice cream.
I-fuck this is the hardest part- but I hope you’ve moved on. One of us has to.
*click*
You don’t take the tape out of the player, you don’t touch it at all. You feel oddly calm as you take another bite of your cheesecake, savoring the strawberry reserve that it came with it. You could almost imagine yourself at eighteen again sitting opposite your new boyfriend.
You missed it, the memories that came along with it. That was it, you missed the feelings you had.
But you were okay. You would be okay right where you were, because that’s where you belonged. It hurt, yeah, but it had hurt back then as well. Now it was just a dull ache, all that was left was regret.
Regret that it didn’t work out, regret over unspoken words and unnecessary pain.
A familiar song filled the cafe as you smiled somewhat sadly, leaning back in your seat and closing your eyes.
“I’m proud of you Chenle”, you whispered, “Because you did what I couldn’t”
You left the cafe a little later, with the cassettes in your bag, an empty plate and the smoothie sitting on the table, untouched. After all, that smoothie wasn’t for you.
There was nothing to wait for anymore. You had loved and you had lost, Chenle was a stranger with your secrets and a familiar voice and that was it. 
You had forgiven him a long time ago, even without him being deserving of it. Now with all the loose ends being tied up, it felt like you could finally let go of him, you could finally move on.
And forget.
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