#i just feel like.........if the light switch had been handled differently.....and she had KNOWN no one else could get out......

[queenofbaws]

gonna be real with you guys, i've been doing a lot of thinking lately and i just...........

we should've had the option to make sam totally snap in-game. just absolutely, totally snap.

i think it would've made all that stiff smiling in her police interview 1000000x better/worse, and god help me, the parallels to josh would've been delectable.

[agustdef]

Will You

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Black!Reader

Genre: Fluff; Idol AU/Idolverse

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Light Language

Rating: PG-13

Beta Reader: @hobeemin

A/N: This was due to idk and I have so many ideas that I simply didn’t write a ff that ended up posted for much too long. So here’s to hoping to finishing these ideas.

“And without further ado, I am more than happy to introduce you to our keynote speaker Ms. YN LN.”

Clapping fills the room, and Jungkook joins in a beat late. His mind wandered as he’d listened to the other speakers for almost an hour. They’d all had interesting things to say, but something about being in a room with all these people with a person at a podium felt too much like school. Plus, a few of them seemed just to enjoy hearing themselves talk.

He refused to admit that to YN, though.

His beautiful girlfriend tried to give him an out when he said he’d come with her for this event. Told him how boring it would be and that she didn’t mind if he just did something else until she was done. Of course, he pushed for it, and she relented with one final warning about how he’d be bored as hell. To a degree, he’d known that going into it, but he wanted to support her. And to see her in her element.

Though they both work in the same industry, they’re on different ends of it. Jungkook as an artist and occasional writer, while YN worked legal. Their first encounter was when an American artist friend of his invited her out to dinner as a thank you for helping him with a contract issue with his label. They’d made him promises and tried to backtrack when it was time for the new contract. YN worked at a firm that specialized in that kind of thing, though they usually worked with smaller artists. His friend had been her big break, bringing in business and a promotion.

Of course, Jungkook was too much of a punk to ask her for her number at that meeting. He was too nervous about if it was forward, and he didn’t want to mess with the mostly professional nature of the event. But he got her card, and that was enough.

Until they kept bumping into each other at the more business-like industry events. Well, half bumping into each other and the other half him hunting down her name on programs and making sure to show up to those panels or events. It made him feel like a little bit of a stalker, but to combat that, he finally got his shit together and asked her out after running into her at a restaurant. 

Grateful to not be turned down was an understatement.

As they got to know each other, he felt himself fall hard and fast. She was perfect. Not in how one thinks when they hear the word, but in how that worked for him. That made their relationship work through the lows as well as the highs. 

I love you slipped out of his mouth five months in. 

If that didn’t explain why he put himself through this boredom, nothing, else would at least not in a way that made sense. His members still sometimes looked at him crazy with how he felt about her and how he could only sometimes find the words to explain it in a coherent way.

“I promise to try not making this too boring for y’all. I can not, however promise it won’t be boring at all. My line of work has to have some pitfalls besides all that paperwork,” YN joked.

The entire room laughs. It’s not the funniest thing in the world, but the way she delivers it and the energy she exudes as a person gets to people. It’s why Jungkook lets out a laugh that’s a little too loud and draws the attention of those around him. And of YN, though she doesn’t look his way to make that clear. He just nose from the way she pauses for a second longer, and her smile widens. 

Embarrassed isn’t even the right word for him at the moment. Part of him wants to flee the room, but he stays in his seat. It helps that anyone who side eyes him switches to being shocked to see him there. Being identified as a member of BTS is what he can handle; being embarrassed is not, despite what his variety show content and the lives over the years might suggest.

To let the feeling pass, he focused on the stage. Well, on YN.

“For those who don’t know me, I’m YN LN, and I've been working at Heights Law for the last six or seven years,. We specialize in fair contracts for indie artists. From things with their label to tours, merchandise, the people they hire, and even contracts between members if it’s a group. About thirty-five percent of those we work with don’t even have a label they’re signed to and don’t want to. And then about twenty percent of our clients are more mainstream artists looking for the same services.

We don’t work with any sort of label because we feel it ties us to worrying too much about keeping on their good side when trying to figure things out. And while we are not on a mission to do anything that would be, for the lack of a better word, line crossing with the people we are trying to get to sign the contracts, our clients come first. That’s made us stand out in a way y’all may have heard about a time or two. I’d like to personally apologize for making you sit through articles about a certain label trying to screw over up and coming artist Minx and all the weird things that were honestly not so weird about her tour rider.”

Again laughter, but with some whispers and grumbles thrown in. That entire situation had everyone in the industry confused as hell, and for the last few months, they thought Minx was trying to be greedy until everything was settled and it was shown that all her asks weren’t as crazy as they’d seemed. Even Jungkook found himself looking at YN like she’d lost it with every new bit of information that was released. He’d asked her about it, but she gave him a look, and he had to wait out the outcome like everyone else. 

“And for this, I think Minx is the perfect situation to discuss. I mean, when else will you see how things can go when a former lawyer turned pop star wants to sign with the label she used to work for but knows all their tricks.”

That was all it took to have people enthralled. After everything settled, everyone still had a million questions about it, but they were still waiting for someone at the firm to answer them. Jungkook had the fortune of dating YN around the time, so he got her to tell him, and Minx had invited them somewhere and told him more. So, he knew everything.

Which meant he could just stare at her. He didn’t think of himself as the type to be much of a creepy person, even if him trying to run into her wasn’t a clear indication of that. That and that looking at her was one of his favorite pastimes. 

YNs cute.

He would and did use a million words to describe her. But the first thought in his brain when he saw her was how cute she was, and he felt his heart triple in size from that alone. Her genuine smile and soft features do a lot to counteract the fact that she’s only an inch shorter than me, which throws people off when they meet her and had only seen her face before.

Those legs of hers, when she wears heels, drive Jungkook absolutely feral. And he has to fight off the thought of them as his mind spirals. He focused instead on the light tint of pink pushing through the brown skin because of all the bright lighting, the way there’s a stray piece of hair not as curly as the rest that she swears isn’t from heat damage, and she can fix, the soft red of her lips, and the way every part of her body seems light and open as she talks about a subject she loves. A look he’s familiar with and is how he knows she looks at him. 

More than anything, Jungkook is sure that YN loves him as much as he loves her, and like a revelation, he knows how much that is. How much space that love takes up in him, to the point that sometimes it feels like it’s overflowing. Right now, it feels like it’s overflowing.

“Questions?”

That one word pulls him out of his head, but he looks at YN with a clarity he didn’t have a few minutes ago, let alone a few hours ago.

Someone clears their throat, but his eyes don’t leave her.

“Why not just go with what the label wanted? I mean, sure, Minx had the background, but that shouldn’t make her any different than any other artist. Should she not be thankful to get into the place twice on different sides of it?”

There was agreement in the crowd, but it died out quickly with everyone else's quietness drop quiet.

Despite the shift in vibes, there’s a smile on YN’s face. 

“Why do you think that? Is it because others don’t have that same knowledge? I can see how that could be seen as unfair because it is. But because she has the background,, she used it to help herself best,, which made it so we could best help her and those in the future. However, I can assure you that they changed their contract language a lot since then. Height and many other firms who deal with them and this kind of thing all saw a shift for the better and for the worst with them. So, while you may wonder why Minx didn’t simply take what she should be lucky to have gotten from them, I hope you’re settled by the fact that unless the rare thing happens. Someone else does the same thing, no one else will be able to give the insight on how to best make the next contract work for the client in the way she did.”

The response is assertive, sarcastic, and professionally annoyed. It doesn’t leave room for anyone to say anything that doesn’t make them look any more like an ass. But the man at the podium opens his mouth a few times to try and figure out what to say. In the end, he walks away from the mic with his head down. Jungkook is sure that if it weren’t for pride, he would walk out of the room altogether.

“Any more questions,” YN said after a moment.

There’s one that Jungkook has. One he needs answered, but he finds himself glued to his seat.

Several people go up and ask their questions, all of them better than the first one, though some of them toe the line. There are also a few that Jungkook would deem flirting, but they don’t bother him. Not with the thoughts swarming around in his head.

Before he knows it, she answers the last question, and everyone is dismissed. A few linger to talk, but with this day being so packed, everyone wants to rush off to the next talk or event happening.

He sits in the seat for about fifteen minutes before she walks up to him, and when she puts her hand on his shoulder, he looks up at her startled, even though he watched her approach him.

“Ready to go?”

Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes as he stares at her. He feels all over the place, but none of it’s uncertainty or doubt.

“I have a question,” he managed.

“Huh?”

“I have a question. I didn’t get the chance to ask it in there. I was… I’m nervous to ask it, and I couldn’t do it in there.”

YN frowned. “You can always ask me anything, my love. No need to be nervous about it. Plus, I’m sure yours is better than some of the bullshit I get asked in general when it comes to work.”

For a moment, Jungkook says nothing. All he can do is stare at her and try to keep his breathing normal. The latter is the hardest part, but YN takes his hand in hers and squeezes it tight.

Taking a breath, he gets to his feet, takes both of her hands in his, and stares into her eyes. He’s more than sure about what he has to say.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Question nor answer was said with any hesitation. However, Jungkook could tell that YN was still trying to process what was happening. He was too, but that wasn’t important now.

After a second, Jungkook released one of her hands, and with the other firm in his grasp, he led her out of the room. He hears her ask a question, but it doesn’t fully register in his brain. All his focus is on weaving through the crowd of people and out the door of the convention center. The place isn’t as isolated as some can be, so he walked past the parking lot where his car is and made his way past the hotel they were staying at.

“Where are we going?”

“Jungkook?”

“Jay?”

There’s a loud exhale too, but Jungkook paid it no mind. He’s on a mission. 

“For goodness sake, Kookie.”

YN matches his pace though she’s clearly confused by what the hell is happening. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t find his words just yet, so he kept walking until ten minutes later, they were in front of a popular celebrity-use jewelry store.

A few of the things he bought for himself and others - YN included - were from here, so he had a code that they gave him to get in. The door buzzed them in, and the moment that they walked in, there was a person there and ready to help. Though it might not be obvious to most, it was clear from the knowing smile on the woman’s face she knew what was up. 

Didn’t stop Jungkook from being so flustered, though. 

“Hi. Engagement rings. I mean, we would like to see engagement rings.”

Without a word, she directed them to the back of the store. They followed close behind her, and when they entered the room, she’s taking them to another person is setting down a tray of rings, with others sitting on a cart behind him.

Yeah, she knew.

Once everything is on the table, the man leaves, and they’re directed to sit. The woman who welcomed them stands on the other side of the table.

“This is a collection of all the rings we sell in the store. Though there are others, we can have custom made if what you see in front of you isn’t the right fit or you want a mix of styles. There’s a mix of the traditional sort and the non-traditional. Some are even without diamonds. Please, take your time to look through them and see if something catches your eye.”

Then she’s gone, and all the sound goes with her.

“We’re doing this?”

“You asked me.”

“True.”

Jungkook finally turns and looks at her, and despite all the nerves he’s feeling about if she’ll take it back, there’s a smile on her face. And a lack of anxiety like what’s going through him. Though he can tell, she’s a little thrown off by it all.

“I did. And I want to.”

“Then we better start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

All the tension that was once there leaves the room, and they both turn their attention to the hundreds of rings in front of them. It’s an overwhelming site, but they dive into them. Jungkook tries to get YN to try some on, but she says that she doesn’t want to just yet, so they set them on the empty tray right in front of them. 

Each one feels perfect to Jungkook, but not right. More of the diamond rings that look how he’s used to seeing American engagement rings look like end up on the tray, which isn’t much of a shock with YN’s usual preferences.

A tray marked as morganite is second to last, and Jungkook almost avoids it, but then one ring calls to him. His eyes zone in on it, and he reaches for it just as YN gasps. His neck nearly breaks when he turns to look at her, but the slight pain means nothing as he follows her gaze to the ring he was reaching for.

Without another thought, he picks it up, takes her hand, and slides it into place. Though it’s a little loose, it fits her finger. The oval champagne colored gem is on a white gold band and surrounded on either side with diamonds that fan out, almost like leaves on the stem of a flower. They wrap perfectly around her finger and stop before they reach the palm side. Everything about it is YN. Is them.

“Perfection,” YN whispered.

“Yeah.”

And like the whirlwind that this was, Jungkook was happy to find that they had the same ring, the right size, on the premises, and he paid for it right then and there. It only left YN’s finger so they could clean it, and then it was on again.

They walked out of the room, and both were on a cloud. All those nerves Jungkook felt before were gone, but something else replaced it.

“I guess we have a wedding to plan. I can’t imagine when we’d even have it,” YN said.

“Now.”

Not the least bit startled, she turned to him with a raised brow. 

“Now?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?”

Silence sat between them for what felt like forever, and then YN turned her attention back to the jeweler.

“We need to see wedding bands, too,” she said, then turned back to Jungkook. “And you need to start making phone calls.”

[thethreeeyed-raven]

first dance

make me feel masterlist

navigation | warnings : none? | dream of the endless playlist | tags : @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @knight-of-flowerss , @tiana76 , @navs-bhat

You awoke the next day, not prepared to be bombarded with the questions that would await you in the drawing room.

“Y/n! Y/n! Mother is asking for you!” Hyacinth exclaimed, taking your hand and dragging you into the room.

“What now?!” For goodness sake, you had just opened your eyes!

“Dear! Lady Danbury and Daphne have come to visit!” Violet exclaimed excitedly.

You held back the urge to roll your eyes, sitting down next to your mother.

“We’ve come to talk about your dance last night.” Lady Danbury said with a sly smirk. “All these years I’ve known the Queen, and she’s never done anything like this.”

“Yes, the Queen never did anything like that when I was diamond!” Daphne sipped on her tea, Auggie in her lap.

“You must tell us my dear, why did you choose to dance with Lord Morpheus?”

“Might I share a dance with you my lord?”

Morpheus took your hand in his, letting you guide him to the centre.

Everyone’s eyes were on you.

You didn’t pay them any mind, you just wrapped your arms around his neck. Your faces were now closer.

You got to see his eyes close up. You were right, they were like a blue you’ve never seen.

They held all of the universes and stars in them. All the undiscovered planets.

When the dance finished, he slipped away, not wanting to be seen.

You stood in the middle of the ballroom, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes glazed.

Your mother, Daphne, Lady Danbury, and Hyacinth watched you with beady eyes.

“He was…in my line of sight.”

All four of them shared a look before continuing what they were doing before you came downstairs.

Three knocks were heard on the door.

“Lucienne.” Morpheus said tiredly.

Another night without sleep, this time with a reason.

“Death is here again, what would you like me to tell her?”

“That I haven’t been drinking all night because I got too overwhelmed because of Bridgerton’s sister.”

Lucienne huffed. “Morpheus.”

Morpheus lifted himself from the bed. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“What is it now, sister?” Morpheus wrapped a silk robe around himself, the bags under his eyes prominent.

“What happened last night Dream?” Death voiced her worry.

Morpheus sat down on the couch across, shielding his eyes from the natural light.

“Nothing, why?” He motioned for Lucienne to open the patio doors to let some air in, air he desperately needed.

“So nothing was you running away from the season’s diamond might I add, leaving her on the dance floor alone and confused?!”

Morpheus winced at the volume of her voice and Death took notice.

“You’ve been drinking, haven’t you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No I haven’t-”

“Yes you have!” Death stood up, rounding the corner of the couch to stand in front of her brother. “You can’t just up and run when you can’t handle a situation! What was wrong with a little dance anyway?”

“I was overwhelmed!”

This was the first time Dream had ever openly admitted his feelings, and the last. But it wasn’t even half of what he felt the night before.

“Why?”

Morpheus paused for a brief moment, before something switched in his mind.

“It’s none of your business, go.”

“But-”

“Go.”

His tone was stern, and Death knew to leave him alone then, so she went.

Lucienne left the room, going to tend to her other duties in the manor.

And Morpheus was left alone.

Like always.

[ashwhowrites]

The devil is female

⚠️Angst - part 2 in discussion

18+ smut-

Switch edgy reader x switch Eddie

Mentions of cheating, language

I have a problem with Eddie having affairs

Master-list

The devil wasn't a stranger to Eddie Munson. He was known to worship the devil. Even created by the devil himself and sent Eddie to handle his work.

Eddie didn't fear the devil. Especially when the devil looked like her.

He didn't care that he found himself dancing with the devil. Even laughing with the devil. He found himself fucking the devil which lead to greater issues at hand.

Falling in love with the devil because the devil is female.

~~

Eddie met her in the most romantic place of them all- a sex shop.

He was looking at all the different types of toys that lingered on the walls. Eyes twitching in excitement and his head was filling with nasty ideas he could do to his girlfriend.

Black thick whips that he could use to turn her ass red, after his own hand of course.

Handcuffs to trap her hands behind her back as he fucked her throat, brutalizing and ruining her.

Thick and long dildos, he could just imagine pounding into her cunt as he shoved the toy in her ass. Mocking her for being so slutty she had to be filled in both holes.

His eyes wandered to the toys she could use on him as well.

Ball gags to keep him quiet as she milked his cock for the fifth time in a way.

A strap with the same dildo he used to fuck her ass, now being slammed into his.

Cock rings and cock cages to keep him in line as she tortured him.

"You seem very intrigued with our collection here."

He jumped as he heard a voice behind him, almost like it was on his shoulder.

He whipped his head to the left and saw a girl. She had beautiful eyes that seemed to be bright in the lighting. A smile that he couldn't tell was genuine or fake as hell. She seemed to have worked there as she had a name tag, and a very short and laced crop top. Showing very little to his imagination of what her chest looks like. She had her belly button pierced. A pair of white jeans rested just below the piercing. Lips coated with a dark red gloss and eyeliner to match. She was breathtaking. Almost like she purposely wants to suck the air out of you.

"I am. Looking to spice things up. Do you have any recommendations?" He watched as her eyes studied him. Subconsciously he stood up a tad bit straighter and puffed out his chest. Her gaze was hot like she had laser beams tracing his skin head to toe.

"you look like a torture me until I cry but let me do the same to you kind of guy. Follow me."

Eddie was caught off guard at her understanding of him. Almost like she could read him.

He followed her around the store for an hour. Listening closely to everything she described. Which toys are best for what.

"I'm going to start with one at a time. I don't want my girlfriend to get too overwhelmed." He silently cursed himself in his head. Why did he say he had a girlfriend?

Wait he does have a girlfriend. Why did he suddenly feel pissed for having to admit that? And why doesn't he feel guilty for that?

"ah I should have known a total babe like you would have a girlfriend already. Well start with the vibrator that clasps to the clit to ease her into things if you don't want to start too heavy on her."

He blushed at her compliment. He nodded at her understanding and bought the vibrator.

He raced home, already half hard, to his girlfriend. Tonight should be fun.

~~

Eddie was back the next day, in the shop, with his shoulders slumped.

"back already?" He could feel his shoulders rising back up. A small smile on his face as he walked to the counter.

There she was again. Somehow even more beautiful than yesterday.

"I'd like to return this." He mumbled as he slid the toy back to her. She eyed him with a small chuckle.

"I'm sorry but we can't take back anything that has been used."

Eddie blushed even harder, "NO! It was not used. I promise." He held his hands up in surrender. Now embarrassed that she thought he was some freak who would return used sex toys.

She stuck out her problem lip in a pity frown, "then why return it? I can promise you this is a game changer."

"she didn't want to use it. She doesn't like to be forced to have orgasms when she doesn't want to." He shurgged. He gets it, not everyone is into the same kind of sex. He's fine with her saying no to things or not wanting to try things. He appreciates that she can speak up when she doesn't want to do things. But the same sex every time was getting too boring.

"her loss. I have like three of these and I never plan to return them." She laughed as she scanned the toys.

Eddie could feel his face get hot. His lose sweatpants doing nothing to hide his growing hardness, as he thinks of her playing with herself. The way she plunges her fingers into herself, the vibrator clasps to her clit, forcing her to scream over and over.

"all set."

He quickly blinked out of his thoughts. Now feeling like a perv for thinking of this girl in her own intimate moments.

"thanks." He coughed out as he went to walk out the door.

"The name is Y/N" she said as she waved her fingers.

~~

"What If we try handcuffs? That's nothing too extreme. You are still in charge of your body's movements just limited." Eddie explained as he sat next to his girlfriend, Roxy.

He was rubbing her knee, puppy eyes staring into her.

"No Eddie. I don't want bruises on my wrists." She sighed out

"they don't have to be tight at all. We can get them loose and comfortable. Or I can wear them. You could handcuff me." He tried to bargain.

"No that's just weird Eddie. Why would I want to tie you up? Plus then you wouldn't be able to touch me and that's no fun. I have a boyfriend to give me an orgasm, I don't want to do it myself" He nodded, accepting that vibrators and handcuffs are a no go.

~~

The list got longer.

"A no to the ball gag?" Y/N questioned as Eddie once again was returning an item.

"wouldn't even let me take it out of the bag." He sighed.

"Oh boy here again. Must have been a no to the dildo?"

"she said her ass wasn't mean for sex and that I'm the man so I should be fucking her with my own dick."

"yikes Eddie another strike out?"

"The cock cage was too horror film-like."

"She pulled out the stops in the whips huh?"

"said pain and pleasure are not meant to go together."

At that point Eddie gave up. Roxy only wanted plain missionary sex and head that was it. He knew it wasn't fair to be upset over things she didn't want to do but he honestly had better orgasms with his hand. At least then he can edge himself, tease his way to an orgasm.

Roxy didn't like handjobs, the feeling of his skin was too weird

She didn't like blowjobs, he pees out of that thing, it was not going in her mouth

She didn't like to ride him, said it's too hard and a lot of work.

Roxy simply liked to lay there as he pounded into her.

She liked foreplay on her. She liked to be fingered and eaten out. But that's all far Eddie could go.

He felt stuck. He felt like an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with her just because she was boring in bed but he was too erotic for this relationship. He needed some one who was at least open to these things.

~~

Eddie went back to the sex store, but this time something for him.

"There he is. Where did you go? I started to miss you a bit." Y/N smirked from the counter.

She never failed to make Eddie blush....or get hard.

He stopped coming about a month ago, figured he could stop wasting his money to turn back around the day and ask for it back.

"Yeah right." He laughed as he walked up to her.

He could smell her sweet perfume. She wore a tight body suit that was high on her hips. Low waisted shorts that showed off her hip bones.

The new revealed skin made Eddie's mouth water.

"what can I help you with?" She asked as she leaned over the counter. Purposely pushing her tits towards his face.

Without thinking, Eddie's eyes followed down to the movements. Buldge growing harder in his basketball shorts. He somehow felt too hot in his tank top.

"I figured maybe I can try one last thing." He offered with a small smile.

" and what's that?" She asked as she drummed her painted nails against the counter, head turned to the side.

And that's how Eddie found himself in the back room of the store. Shorts and boxers down to his ankles with his cock down Y/N's throat.

No thought of Roxy was near, and definitely not near when he came down another girl's throat with a moan.

~~

Months later Eddie was still dancing with the devil. He wouldn't lie if you asked him if he liked it, he fucking loved it.

Sneaking around to get his dick wet in the nastiest ways a human could think of.

Y/N worked at a sex shop and she knew what she was doing.

Eddie has been choked, whipped, pegged, and all of the above.

~~

"Fuck baby just like that." She was moaning above him. Her hands slammed against the wall, hips rocking against Eddie's face. His tongue was in her and his nose was brushing her clit. He's been eating her out for hours it felt like.

"you're going to sit there and ride my face until my jaw is sore." And he wasn't lying. She had an orgasm after orgasm. Her body felt like it was on the edge of passing out. Her muscles are sore from how hard she's been clenching.

"EDDIE FUCK. YOU'RE MAKING ME CUM!" She screamed out as her orgasm washed over her. She has no idea what number she is at but she'd give him as many orgasms as she could.

Finally she felt a tap to her thigh, with a relieved sigh she removed herself. A whine left her throat as his chin was completely soaked in her.

"Jesus. You somehow tasted better every time," he gasped out. Getting the air back in his body that he's been missing for hours.

"My turn?" She giggled as she scooted down to the bottom of her bed, her face met with his raging cock.

"Yes please," he begged as he looked down at her. Her eyes are big and bright staring back at him. He has seen her in this position countless of times but never gets old.

She wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, sucking slowly. She kitten licked his precum, "you also taste so good," she hummed as she licked his length.

She took a deep breath and shoved his cock down her throat, placing her hands behind her back. A silent permission for him to take control. He dug in his hands in her hair and thrust straight into her. His eyes rolling in the back of his head when he heard her choke on his length.

The thing he loved about Y/N was she let him do anything. If he wanted to take it slow, remove her off his dick completely before sliding in slowly. Or if he wanted it hard and fast. Bucking his hips at a quick pace, puffing air as he gives her no time to breathe in between.

He slowly sat up, the movement causing him to go even further in her throat.

"Jesus Christ. You have the best mouth I've ever felt." He moaned.

One hand leaned behind him as he moved her off. Throwing her on her back, head hanging off the bed as he kneeled over her. His legs straddled her head, shoving his cock into her throat. She was gagging and tears flowing down her cheeks. Her mouth covers him completely. Not a single part of his cock was shown. Her nose was practically in his dark curls and his balls were swaying into her chin. The part that had him close to coming already was that he could see his cock moving in her throat. His thumb ran over the bulge, fascinated by how wrong this was but how good it was.

He felt a tap on his thigh and he quickly took himself out of her throat. Looking down at her a worried expression, "shit. You okay babe?" She usually never taps out.

She gasped for air as she tried to get her words out. "yeah eds, just wanted to ask if I can touch your balls?"

The smile she gave was the devil itself. Smiling like she asked for something so innocent. Like for a soft kiss on the lips. Not asking to touch his balls while he shoved his cock down her throat, bucking hips to chase an orgasm.

She was going to kill him. He nodded fast as he shoved his cock back into her throat. Thumb stayed permanently on the bulge he was creating in her throat. Her hands cradled his balls in a soft touch. Slighting tugging and massaging. Eddie was a moaning mess. Times like this is why he needed a ball gag.

When he felt her hand move away from his balls he looked behind him. Watching her middle finger, dressed in one of his rings, dip into her cunt. He felt his mouth water when she pulled it out, covered in her cum. Her hand slowly trailed up the back of his thighs, he moaned when both her hands grip his ass. She pushed her middle finger, which was soaked in her cum, into his asshole. Filling him as his hips were slowing down.

"Fuck Y/N, you are something else," he whined as he felt his orgasm creeping in. His stomach clenching tight. His asshole gripped her finger tightly. One hand returned back to his balls. Massaging again as he panted above her. He removed himself fast as he felt his load shooting out. Quickly pumping himself over her chest.

"Fuck...shit that's it," he moaned as he pumped himself quickly dry against her tits.

He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. Which left his body just as fast as it entered him when she scooped up his cum off of her chest and licked it off her hand.

"always so delicious."

~~

"EDDIE HURRY UP. WE CANNOT BE LATE!" Eddie rolled his eyes as Roxy screamed from the kitchen.

"I'M COMING!" he yelled back as he finished tying his hair into a bun.

He look at himself in the mirror.

A dark brown suit that actually fits him well. Small silver hoops hanging from his ears. Sleeves rolled up as his bracelets and watch decorated his wrists. He bent to finish tying his black dress shoes. He looked up when he heard clicking heels stopping in front of him. Roxy stood with her arms crossed, an annoyed expression on her face. "Let's go." She demanded as she walked back out. He followed behind her as he grabbed his keys.

"Why do I even need to go? It's a fucking work event with a bunch of rich assholes." He complained.

"Because you are unfortunately my boyfriend so you need to suck it up and put a smile on your face. And do not embarrass me in front of my boss." She snapped. Eddie was very close to locking the door behind her as she walked out.

~~

Eddie was throwing back his third bottle of beer as he watched Roxy prance around the event. She hasn't been by his side since they arrived. Hurriedly running off to talk with coworkers.

Exactly why Eddie didn't want to come. He was ditched and bored out of his mind. Leaning against the bar.

"Okay my boss is making his way over so should smile and be polite." Roxy spat out as he fixed Eddie's tie and collar, coming out of nowhere. He faked a smile, big and full of teeth.

"Roxy thank you for coming. And who is this?" Eddie looked over Roxy's shoulder to see a tall clean man.

"This is my boyfriend Eddie Munson, Eddie this is Brad, my boss." She smiled and held Eddie's free hand. The other one is still holding his beer. He gave a nod to Brad who gave one in return.

"BRAD!" a voice yelled out. Brad quickly turned around and waved them over.

"Looks like someone is going to join us." He smiled.

Eddie looked around the party as he sipped his beer. Not paying attention to the work conversation Brad and Roxy were having.

Then he heard it.

Her heard her.

His head snapped back to the conversation fast and there she stood.

In a tight long red dress, strapless, with a slit all down her right leg.

He watched her hug Brad, jealousy in his veins.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, I saw an unfamiliar face and had to come see." She smiled towards Roxy, her hand sticking out to shake hers.

Eddie choked on his beer when he saw the same ring from the other night resting on her finger. He swears he saw Y/N send a smirk over to his area.

"I'm Roxy! And this is my handsome boyfriend Eddie." She introduced him, her hand gripping him tighter but Eddie quickly removed it. Pushing out his own hand to shake Y/N's. She laughed at the gesture and placed her hand in his. Eddie wishes he didn't have to let go. Her softness and warmth.

He felt the cold return to his body when she let go of his hand.

"Wow look at her ring eds! Don't you have one just like it?" Eddie's body went stiff as Roxy brought the ring up.

Y/N didn't even look bothered, another smirk sent to Eddie, "oh wow really? Looks like Eddie and I have similar tastes in things."

The look in her eyes told him it definitely wasn't about the ring.

Roxy and Brad excused themselves to talk, thankfully across the yard

"Quite a beautiful girl you have Eddie." She smiled as she moved next to him.

"Quite a charmer of a boyfriend you have." He snapped. Taking a sip of his beer. Hoping it would somehow cool down his body.

"Be careful Eddie. Sounds like you might be a tad jealous." She giggled as she moved even closer to him. Her fingers softly grazed the hand he had resting in the bar. He didn't bother to move it.

"Yeah right." He scoffed. His own fingers slowly rubbed her fingertips.

"He's not my boyfriend Eddie." She smiled softly. Eddie looked at her confused so she added, "he's my brother." She laughed.

Eddie didn't know why but he felt relieved.

He watched as her eyes quickly looked over to Roxy, her back was turned to the two of them.

Y/N smirked as she now stood directly in front of Eddie. "You look so hot in this brown suit. I practically feel myself dripping." She moaned as she ran her hands up his chest.

"What are you doing." He whispered as he grabbed her hands, removing them from his body.

Eyes quickly looking over to his girlfriend, her back still turned to him.

"no one is looking Eddie." She whispered into his ear as she rested her hand on his belt buckle.

He should have stopped her. They were at a public place, outside next to the bar. His girlfriend was feet away and he was letting Y/N unbuckle his pants. Sneaking her hand into them, trailing her fingertips over his cock that rested hard in his boxers.

"We shouldn't do this. What if someone sees?" He tried to hide the moan that left his throat when her hand made its way under his boxers.

"What if someone sees me jacking you off? Huh? Someone sees me jacking off your cock while your girlfriend is probably flirting with my brother. I think that's pretty hot if you ask me. But I can stop." She smiled as she removed her hand.

Laughing to herself when Eddie whined pathetically grabbing her hand back.

"No don't stop, please " he begged, she smiled and blocked their actions with her body. Practically hugging him and whispering in his ear.

"Look at you. Letting me jack you off in the same place your girlfriend is. Kind of a slut aren't you?" She mocked. Working him faster.

"Make sure to keep quiet this time baby. I don't want people to hear us." She warned as she smeared his precum over his tip.

~~

"wasn't that so fun?" Roxy asked as she removed her heels. Eddie threw his keys in the bowl by his front door.

"Um yeah. It was good." He smiled.

"Y/N seemed nice." Eddie tried to act like the name didn't bother him.

"oh yeah she's great."

"she seemed to have liked you. I don't think she left your side the whole night." Roxy laughed as she walked towards the bathroom.

You have no idea he thought.

His mind circling back to when she pegged him for hours. The way she pulled his hair and bucked her hips into him.

~~

Y/N never saw herself sleeping with a man who had a girlfriend. But when she met Eddie she couldn't resist him.

At first she offered to just have meaningless sex. Let him explore his fantasies with all his kinks and learn which toys he enjoyed.

She was simply helping a guy out.

But now she's stuck. She's falling for a guy who has a girlfriend. A guy who only went to her for sex.

~~

Brad was hosting another work event, this time at a restaurant.

Now that she knew Roxy and Eddie would be tagging along, she put extra effort into how she looked.

An even tighter dress, short and black. Deep v-cut and her best push up bra. Making sure his ring laid on her finger.

When she arrived at the restaurant she smiled as she saw an open seat next to Eddie. How perfect.

"hello again." She greeted Roxy with a smile. She smiled back at her.

Her eyes landed on Eddie. He was wearing a tight long sleeve black shirt, necklace dangling, and dark jeans. His hair was down and natural. She could still see the small silver hoops in his ears.

She gave him a tight smile and sat next to him. Her arm brushing against his.

Throughout the night she teased Eddie. She would lean over him to grab the bread. "accidentally" spilling her drink, "oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Roxy could you grab an extra towel?" She asked innocently. Roxy quickly got up and found a waiter.

Y/N smirked as she placed her towel on Eddie's now wet lap. "Let me clean that." She whispered as she rubbed the towel over his crotch.

Eddie was biting his lip, trying to keep his moans down. He was giving her the deadliest look he could manage.

She yanked her hand away when Roxy returned. Handing Eddie the towel to clean himself off.

Y/N didn't stop there. She constantly talked to Roxy, meaning she had to lean into Eddie to hear her clearly. Her tits touching Eddie's arm. He took deep breaths to keep himself relaxed.

When he got up to use the restroom, Y/N followed.

"cut the shit. You are killing me out there." He whispered in the hall.

"it's just fun Eddie." She smirked. Looking around to see no one, she kissed him. Her arms wrapping around his neck. He gave in within seconds wrapping his arms around her waist. Deepening the kiss with his tongue.

She pulled away with a quick peck to his now red lips, "clean that off. I'll see you out there." She smirked.

~~

His eyes followed her as her hips moved. He leaned against the wall. He had to do something to get himself back in charge.

With a plan in mind, he washed off his lips and walked back to the table.

He wasn't going to give in to her games anymore.

He put all his attention on his girlfriend.

Smirking in Y/N's direction he placed his hand on Roxy's knee. Y/N's eyes flicked down to his action but shrugged it off.

He spent the whole time flirting with his girlfriend more than he has in his life. Sneaking his hand higher on her thighs. Whispering in her ear and pecking her neck. Roxy didn't like PDA so Eddie knew he had to keep it on the low. If he overdid it then she'd freak out. And then he'd look like an idiot in front of Y/N.

"So how long have you been together?" Brad asked as he finished his plate.

"About two years. We are so happy." Roxy smiled as she kissed Eddie.

Y/N tried to ignore the sting. Smiling at the couple.

"Wow that's a long time. When do you plan to propose Eddie?" Brad joked laughing.

The couple laughed with him, Y/N could only muster up a fake smile.

"any day now. Wouldn't want to spend a single day without her. I love her" He answered.

Y/N couldn't ignore that sting.

"isn't that great Y/N? Maybe you can attend the wedding and find yourself someone to settle down with." Brad offered.

"Sure thing." She said with a smile. Downing the rest of her wine. God she wanted to leave.

This dinner went to absolute hell in seconds.

"Wait you're single? But you are breathtaking." Roxy complimented. Y/N smiled brightly towards her. Making sure to now leave distance between her and Eddie.

"oh thanks. But yeah I am. I was actually engaged but it didn't work out." She waved it off.

"oh how come?" Eddie gave Roxy a look.

"Fell out of love with me." Y/N admitted. She honestly hasn't thought back to that relationship since she met Eddie five months ago. Her heart was finally healing and now she was reminded why her heart was broken in the first place.

"oh I'm sorry." Roxy apologized, "well Eddie has tons of single friends, he can totally set you up if you wanted." She offered.

"No we don't have to do that." Eddie quickly answered.

Roxy gave him a weird look, "well if Y/N wants to then she has options. Like Nick is a good choice!"

Eddie felt his body sit up straight. Nick was a grade A asshole with blue eyes and blonde hair. Six pack that never left no matter how many beers he had and looked like he lived on the beach.

"I appreciate it. I'll definitely let you know if I need a date for a future wedding." It even hurt Y/N to say. But at the end of the day she remembered Eddie had someone to have and to hold, and it wasn't her.

~~

Everyone was leaving the restaurant. Roxy and Brad left, an emergency at the office.

Eddie and Y/N silently walked out to their cars.

"I'll see you around Munson." She smiled politely as she tugged her jacket to cover herself. Now feeling like an idiot for dressing up for him. Like they were on a date or something.

"Are you okay?" He asked. He almost felt like he did something wrong.

"Yeah. It's nothing." She smiled as she walked faster to her car. But Eddie grabbed her elbow.

"hey talk to me. Is this about your ex?"

"No Eddie. It's just tonight reminded me you are in love and plan to marry her. And I'm sitting there hearing her wanting to set me up with someone and I'm fucking her boyfriend. I feel like a whore." She blinked the tears back. She knew what she was getting into. She doesn't deserve to cry.

"do you have any type of feelings for me?" She asked quietly.

She hated the silence that followed. She hated that for once Eddie's eyes didn't give away how he was feeling.

"I don't know. We are just having hot wild animal sex. I didn't think feelings were a part of that. I never thought that far into it, into us. I mean can you really fall for someone you just have sex with?"

She nodded, she knew that was where this was going to go.

"Apparently yes because I have spent every day thinking about you. I think about what you might be doing. What you might do for a job. If you are slow dancing in the kitchen with your goddamn girlfriend while I sit here like an idiot. It's stupid I know. I guess a part of me thought after some time you'd crave more than just sex like I did. But I get it now Eddie. I truly was pathetic and just a girl wanting to be more to someone than a quick fuck. But that was never in the card for us, was it? I was thinking of what our first real date could be and you were thinking of a proposal to Roxy. I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore. But I think you should come clean to Roxy before you propose. She doesn't deserve what we did to her." She took a deep breath. Hoping he didn't hear the cracks in her voice.

"Bye Eddie." She kissed his cheek and got into her car.

Another broken heart. Another man she wasn't enough for.

~~

Fuck...did Eddie just fall in love with the devil?

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff

[frogsmulder]

When the Ice Melts

Chapter 2/4, prev chapter

What if all the sexual tension in that Ice scene was for a reason? Mulder and Scully hook up before Mulder is locked up in storage, and she comes to believe that he was infected; 1.5k words; rated e; tagging @today-in-fic

Read on AO3

Scully slowly comes to with the sense that something is different–out of place. Rubbing her eyes, she eventually sits up on one elbow. Mulder is nowhere to be seen. She hesitates, clinging closely to the warm comforter but a cold dread slicks down her spine, settling uneasily in her stomach.

"Mulder?" She calls out in a raspy voice. His name sounds so different now, irrational though it may be; the ghost of it tangled in her whimpers and moans makes her blush to even whisper it like it's simultaneously sacred and profane. The heat of arousal and embarrassment rise through her body from her core, reminding her of the wanton ache that resides there. She snakes her hand down her body to cup the feeling. Eyes closed, she bites her lip, aware that there is no returning from this. She allows herself a moment to grieve the future that could have been as a smile overcomes her with the urge to find Mulder.

Her discarded clothes were still at the bottom of the bed and she hastily throws them on. Making her way over to the door, she slowly turns the handle, trying to be as quiet as possible. The hallway is dark save for the dim red glow of the emergency lights. It stains the walls with an eerie wash of foreboding.

Suddenly a loud crash comes from down the hall. A little afraid, she begins to run down the corridor, hearing other doors open behind her and following footsteps. When she finds the light switch for the lab, she is overcome with a nausea she has never known. Fear and dread and anger and confusion and disbelief, but mostly hope. Some faith worth clinging to that there was an alternative explanation to the scene that lay before her than that that immediately came to mind. Mulder was kneeling over Murphy's limp body, stained with his blood. Her thoughts started to spiral but she pushed it aside. Yet the panic creeps in in the rise of her tone, the break of his name in her throat. "Mulder, what are you doing?"

"Murphy's dead," he states coolly, looking up from him to her. She glances down at the body: Murphy's throat cruelly slit.

"You killed him," Hodge says from behind her.

"I found him like this." Mulder's voice cracks with the emphasis–from either shock or anger, she cannot tell. He stands to his feet, defensively, "I heard one of the doors close. I came to check it out… it's one of you."

The notion is a sharp blade to her stomach. That he was so adamant just hours ago that she wasn't infected; to turn her trust for him against her so quickly insulted her deeply. Did he think it was her? She was still praying it wasn't him.

"He's lying," Hodge quickly says.

Da Silva adds, "You could have done it and not even known–"

"No." Ranks were drawing faster than she could breathe. She was still clinging to faith like a life ring in a brewing storm. "He said he didn't."

Mulder locks eyes with her; a plea for understanding but his gaze is hot and uncomfortable. "I don't have any symptoms."

Scully knows this, having seen and felt the smoothness of his skin. His kindness and compassion and effortlessly calm demeanour had reassured her. She had trusted him with her life and more. It couldn't be him–it had to not be him–but she couldn't whisper a word of it. So, she turns to Hodge, "You checked him."

"Yeah, six hours ago–"

"It was one of you!" Mulder strides forward and she moves to put herself between him and the others, but she doesn't know who she should be protecting from whom.

"Stop it!" Her resolve starts to crack and she finds that she can't look at him. "Stop it! Shut up!"

The floor provides a quiet neutrality to compose herself and forget the anger she can feel coiled inside of him. And yet she feels cowardly, hiding from her own feelings in all of this.

"Mulder…" She lifts her head to look at him. There's sweat on his brow and fire in his eyes, and his jaw is tense with a quiet rage she's never seen before. "Just put. The. Gun. Down and let Hodge give you a blood test."

"Oh, so he can doctor the results?" he spits. "I'm not gonna let him stick a needle in me, he could be infected!"

"He has to be confined now!"

Scully ignores Hodge's interjection. "Then just turn around and let us take a look at your neck."

He raises his arm, and with it, his gun, scanning it threateningly between all of them. "I'm not turning my back on anyone!" He continues to back away slowly. "As far as I'm concerned you're all infected!"

"Hodge is right, we ought to lock him up!"

From the corner Hodge turns with a pipe in his hand; Mulder swings his gun to aim at him, but it's Scully's hope he shoots a hole through.

She whips up her gun instinctively whilst her heart tells her to lower it. This is Mulder: she never once dreamt she would have to hold a gun up to her partner. But the bullet of betrayal sears her soul and she can still feel the burning. The only thing she has left of herself is to plead, "Mulder…"

"Scully! Get that gun off me!"

She turns cold. Ice runs through her arteries and she finds herself staring down the barrel of his gun, hoping this is nothing more than a nightmare; that she's still safe wrapped up in his bed. The stinging cold smell of metal mixed with sweat tells her this is all too real. She tightens her grip on the trigger despite her shaking hands. She is convicted with the truth of his infection. Flashes of his body beneath her, above her, around her, moving within her cloud her vision. What has she done? Truly isolated and alone at the edge of the world, without the one person she needs–wants the most. "Mulder! You have to understand…"

"Put it down!"

Tears burn like acid behind her eyes. "You put it down first!"

"Scully!" He screams her name, shattering her heart. Then his voice breaks and softens something akin to pain. "For God's sakes, it's me."

She shakes her head, hesitating, out of options. "Mulder, you may not be who you are."

He lowers the gun, seeing the fear in her eyes. Short-lived relief overcomes her. She swallows, knowing and not liking what they will have to do next.

.....

“In here, I will be safer than you.” His words chill her as much as his cold stare as she slides the door shut and locks the bolt in place. Holding onto the handle, guilt and regret pick their way through her gut; she can still see his betrayed face disappearing from out of sight. Hodge and Da Silva walk easily away but Scully’s body is caught paralysed like a sack of bricks on a river bed where it’s difficult to breathe. Behind the hulk of red metal Mulder–or some version of him–sits alone, lost while so close. She wonders if she'll ever reach him again, the real him, the one that cracks jokes and sunflower seeds, and offers her comfort. Lowering her head, Scully picks her feet up and turns around, heading back to bed.

The last several hours turn around in her mind, slowly burning as she holds them too close under the flame of inspection. In his bed, she folds the edge of the blanket around herself, shutting out her own thoughts. Scully buries her nose into the soft material and sighs heavily. It smells of them still, but his bed feels empty as the last traces of him evaporate with every inhale. Curiously she wonders why her room was never even an option. His things scattered about the floor, spilling from the overnight bag by the foot of the bed are more familiar than her own, neatly tucked away in a separate room. How quickly in the last few months he has wormed his way into her life, inside her head, inside her heart. She can’t shake him – she doesn’t want to – and yet she fears that may be the exact conclusion to this trip that she will have to write in her report.

Turning over in the sheets, she pictures him in the storage locker selfishly hoping she preoccupies his thoughts as much as he does hers. She can see his face contorting in anger and screams so loud and brash in the dimness of the room. The memory haunts her as he holds her at gunpoint over and over – no escaping the nightmare. It sits with her cold and quiet yet relentless. How long had he been infected? Scully turns again. How long had she been asleep while he was gone? Or was it earlier? When she knocked on his door? Oh god what if that wasn’t him?

A tear slipped down her cheek and soaked the pillow below. Quickly she wipes her cheek and turns over again.

[theladybarnes]

“ Do you like scary movies?”

▸ summary: every story has a beginning, this one happened just one year before ▸ pairings: steve x reader ▸ word count: 4,968 ▸ warnings: stabbing, cursing, mentions of gore (MINORS DNI) ▸ series masterlist

It had been just another regular night down on the quiet street of Fier Road. Where each neighbor in the Northern California town had the distance of a living ten minutes away from each other. 

 For Chrissy Cunningham, she hated growing up in this home. Having spent most of her time with disdain towards the view of the tree farm that resided just outside her window. The feeling of always being watched through the large piece of glass never went away and since it was one of the few houses outside the city, she always felt the most disconnected from the world. 

 Thankfully, once she got into high school, things changed. Instead of having to worry about going into town to see people, eventually, people came to see her. With having such a large house with no noise pollution to her far off neighbors, her house instantly became a party spot. Especially towards Junior year when her parent’s jobs in the town began to have longer hours. 

 Like tonight. 

 “I’m telling you, Nancy! Once you get a little drink in you and that new kid Argyle plays some of his new CDs. The natural flow of the party will bring you and Jonathan back together!”

 “I don’t know, Chrissy. It was a pretty big fight this time..”

 The blonde had just finished setting up the kitchen counter of snacks when her friend Nancy had called. Trying to back out of the party tonight due a recent break up with her long term boyfriend. 

 “With you two it’s only big fights. Which means you guys don’t fight often enough to let this one fight tear you apart.” 

 “I wish I could see things as positively as you do.”

 Chrissy giggled into the phone, leaning against the counter as she played with the set of knives dismissively before she remembered she was cutting up limes for the tequila shots. “It’s called optimism and with it I’m very hopeful to finish the rest of my Junior year with all my friends happy and together.” 

 “..Well almost all your friends.” 

 The girl stood up straight at that. Knowing exactly who she’s talking about but afraid to approach that topic. Shaking her head she decides to move past it. “When you see the place, it’s gonna bring back all the little memories you and Jonathan had together and I’m sure you’ll be sneaking away to my parent’s room before the night is over.” 

 “Is Jason coming tonight?

 “Uh yeah,” the girl replied lamely. “The entire team is coming actually.” 

 “So you and your new beau will be out officially as a new couple.” 

 Chuckling a bit at that, Chrissy walked over towards the patio doors. Looking out into the pool as she mulled over Nancy’s words. “I guess..we’ve barely been official with each other for three weeks.”

 “But you and Eddie were together two weeks ago.” 

 A frown etched across Chrissy’s face. “Look, it’s complicated. We were off and on and finally off. I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” 

 “I know, I’m sorry! We’ve all known him since eighth grade and he’s loved you since day one. It’s just weird now to think that era is over.” 

 A flicker of light from the pool house caught Chrissy’s attention. Walking towards the patio doors, she reached for the light switch, flicking on the flood lights to help illuminate the backyard. Nothing seemed to be outside but she found herself shuddering anyway. “Things just ended..I can’t turn back time to it now.”

 “I know, I know, sorry. Suppose your good ol’ optimism rubbed off on me and I thought to ask in Eddie’s defense.”

 The relationship between the cheerleader and rocker had been bittersweet. No matter how much Chrissy had tried to keep things happy between them, the differences in their lifestyles pulled them apart. “I don’t have anything against Eddie..and if I knew that he could handle seeing me at a party with another guy then I’d invite him. But..”

 “..But it might just destroy him. I get it. Maybe when summer starts and we all go out, he’ll be open to the idea of you guys being just friends.” 

 “That’s what I’ve been thinking.” Sighed Chrissy as she finished setting up. “Anyway, are you guys going to be coming up soon? It’s already dark out.”

 “Yeah, us girls are hitching a ride with our little chauffeur.”

 The thought of their friend Steve going all across town to pick each girl up was enough to bring up Chrissy’s mood, causing a small giggle to bubble out. “You guys should tip this time.” 

 “I think one of us already gives him enough.” Nancy replied, referring to the friend they called Baby (poor girl revealed her interest in Dirty Dancing once and the group would not let it go). The two of them had been the group’s biggest will they won’t they for years and it was kind of sweet to have seen them together this whole year. 

 “Gosh those two are sweeter than caramel.” Chrissy laughed, moving away towards the phone stand. “I love it!” 

 “You should! They’d have never admitted to liking each other if it wasn’t for your birthday party.” The sound of a muffled honk perked into Chrissy’s ears through the phone. “Speaking of those two, I think they’re here now. We’ll see you soon!” 

 “See you soon!”

 After Nancy got off the line, the silence of the big empty house returned. It was always too quiet for her taste and unfortunately, Chrissy unplugged the tv and music area for the apparent DJ speakers that Argyle had promised to bring. 

 Right as she had plopped down on the couch to wait, the phone began to scream. 

 RRIIIING

 The blonde lazily laid across the cushion to reach over for the hand held before bringing the device up to her ear. “Hello?”

 “Hello?” the voice of a smooth deep voice echoed. “Who is this?”

 Chrissy chuckled a bit. “Yeah, who are you trying to reach?” There was an awkward pause. The man on the other line taking his time. 

 “What number is this?”

 “…What number are you trying to reach?”

 Again it’s another beat of awkward silence. “..I don’t know.” 

 Trying to remain kind, Chrissy calmly ended the call. “You must have the wrong number. But it happens, take it easy.” With that, she hung up and tried to ignore the feeling in her gut. She was getting tense for no reason. 

RRIIING RRIIING

 The phone went off again and she stared at the piece in her hand, debating just letting the call drop when she remembered her parents might check in. Pressing accept she pressed the phone again to her. “Hello?”

 “I’m sorry, I guess I did dial the wrong number.” 

 Scoffing at the caller simply confirming what she told him, Chrissy shook her head, laughing for a second. “So why did you dial it again?”

 “To apologize, of course.” 

 “You’re forgiven, okay? Now have a good-“

 “Wait, wait! I want to talk to you for a second..”

 Not believing the nerve of this mystery caller, Chrissy became mildly amused at the fact that he wanted to stay on the line. “Look, this is fun and all but I’m a bit too busy for casual chat at the moment.”

 “Too busy? What plans do you have tonight?”

 The girl huffed out some air before checking the watch on her wrist. “I have a party tonight. Guests I’ll have to tend to soon so-“

 “A party and you didn’t invite me?”

 The question threw her off for a second. Normally she’d hang up on someone pestering her like this but there was something casual and interesting about this person. 

 “Well..not everyone can come. You know what it’s like.” 

 “Do I? How would one know if they’re acceptable to join parties or not?”

 Chrissy frowned at that, not too sure how to answer kindly. “Well, there’s no way to define who can come and go..if you’re from school then you’d know who comes to these kinds of things.” 

 The caller let out an amused laugh. “I see, you mean, the cool kids get to go.” 

 “That’s not exactly true! But they are the ones who usually show up.” The girl moved to sit back at the couch again, tugging at the end of her sweater. 

 “So you’re saying you wouldn’t turn anyone else that might want to come?”

 “No, never! That’s so cruel!” The sound of the man’s laugh was a sort of relief to Chrissy as she wiped a hand over her brows.

 “With that knowledge, would you be interested in having me come over tonight?”

 “Yeah.” Chrissy drawed out, “You’re more than welcome to come!”  There was a pleasing hum on the other end making the young girl finally feel a little bit better about her poor word choices. Sometimes her nerves got the best of her and gave her a bad sense of word vomit.

 “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll be able to meet the girl I’m looking at.”

 As if suddenly hit with ice, Chrissy felt the smile drop from her face. Maybe she heard what he said wrong. “..what did you say?”

 “I said I’ll be able to meet the girl I’m talking to.”

 Taking a glance behind her, Chrissy glanced around the kitchen until her eyes landed back in the living room. The large patio doors that led to the pool gave a clear view of the inside of the house. “That’s not what you said..”

 Again the caller gave off a calm chuckle. “What did you think I said?”

 Moving to the patio doors, she flicked on the light switches again, trying to see if she could catch someone in the backyard if she turned the light on fast enough. Again she was met with nothing but the scenic sight of her pool and outdoor patio. Checking over the locks, she sighed to herself before she remembered she was still on the phone.

 “Did I lose you there?”

 “Look, I’m sorry. I have to go.” Chrissy mumbled into the receiver,  pulling her body away from the window. “People are coming and I should probably be ready.”

 “Come on, don’t go just yet. Don’t hang-”

 Not bothering to hear the rest, she hung up the phone and quickly checked the locks on both the back and front before the phone rang again. This time, she couldn’t find it in herself to pick it up. Her friends would come soon enough and she’d be able to deal with a creep on the phone.

 Five minutes passed and still no sign of her friends left Chrissy alone with the incessant ringing that built up of her anxiety. She thought about calling Jason but he already told her practice would run late and he’d show up later. 

 The small sting of tears pinched at her eyes and she felt like the beginning of a scary movie with how nervous she was getting. Getting fed up, she reached for the phone again, pressing the accept button before speaking finally. “Yes?” she asked timidly. 

 “You hung up on me…”

 The voice sounded colder, shocked with her actions. “I had to! P-please stop calling. I’m busy and I need to go!” Hanging up quickly, she looked down at the phone and prayed that the caller would give up on harassing her. But just like before, the phone rang again, sounding oddly angry in its blaring pitch. 

 “I’m going to call the pol-”

 “You hang up the phone on me again and I’ll cut your fucking head off, bitch!”

 The blood in her veins ran cold. Making the only sound out of her was a soft whimper. But that seemed to make the man on the other line happier. His chuckle itching inside the canal of her ear. “..please tell me this is a joke.”

 “Oh sweetheart, it’s more of a game now really. Do you think you can handle that, blondie?”

 For some reason, the question caused Chrissy to shrivel down to the ground. Crawling towards the island in the kitchen, she used the large space in the middle to conceal her body as she tried to calm herself down.

 “Oh Chrissy, I need you to answer me in order to start the game.”

 “Please..I don’t want to play anything.”

 “Well, hate to break it to you miss Queen of Hawkins High. But it’s either you play or Jason does.”

 The mention of her boyfriend caused the hair in the back of her neck to stand up. She gripped the phone tighter as she spoke again. “W-what do you mean?”

 “I’m surprised you didn’t notice, I just placed him out by the pool for you.”

 She’s surprised she’s able to get up from the floor, but she does. And when she reached the patio doors, she slowly inched her hand up to the lights. Praying to every God in existence that when she flicked the lights on, her friends would be on the other side and laugh at the vicious prank they just put her through. “Go ahead, sweetness..turn it on.” urged the voice.

 With a flick, she met with the horror of what was laid outside for her. Instead of the sight of an empty poolside, Chrissy’s green eyes met with the body of Jason. Knocked out and tied up to a chair. His usual green jersey stained with dark red spots as his head was leaning forward, casting his face downward to his lap.

 A bubbled up surge of fear poured out from within Chrissy as she suddenly began to yell at the sight, nearly dropping the phone on the floor. “What is this!?” she cried, reaching to unlock the doors, but at the turn of lock, Jason’s head snapped up. Giving Chrissy a view at the beat up appearance of his face. Whoever had taken him hostage had roughed up his face, enough so that blood trickled from the top of his head and nose. A tight strip of duct tape had been placed over his mouth to silence him. It took only a quick second for his eyes to land on hers, worry flickered over his blue eyes.

 “I wouldn’t step out if I were you.” 

 Tears pooled over her eyes, making his vision begin to turn blurry. Sounds of his panicked screaming were muffled by the tape as he tried to call out to her. “Why are you doing this?” she asked softly, hand still ready to push down on the handle. 

 “Well like I said, either you play or Jason does. And I'd decide quickly, I'm getting impatient here.” 

 Locking the door again, she took a step back, shaking her head to Jason as his muffled cries grew more intense. “Good girl. Now turn off the lights again and we can play.” Through her tears she slowly shut off the light, stepping fully away from the door as she returned to the kitchen island. Using it as coverage once more.

 “Let’s begin, shall we?”

 “How do I play?” Chrissy gritted, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe off the tears that were beginning to block her vision. The sound of Jason calling out to her was nearly driving her crazy before the caller finally replied back.

 “I’ll keep it simple for you, pretty thing. It’s a good ol’ fashion game of truth or lie. Three rounds and then that’s it! You and the lover boy get to leave. Sound easy?”

“It’s not like I have any other choice..” she scoffed, sniffling a bit as she checked over towards the patio doors again. The light from outside still showed a shadow of Jason on the chair. “What’s the question?” 

 “Exactly, let’s start! Truth or lie, the three people closest to you are; Nancy, Robin, and that sweet, Baby.”

 It was clear to anyone who went to school with Chrissy that those three girls were the ones who were by her side from the start. No one could mess with her when she had them behind her. “Yes, Truth! They’re my best friends.” 

 “Correct! See? You’re doing so good, sweetness.”

 “Okay, so please let me go help Ja-”

 “Nuh uh! We’re still not done yet. Just two more.”

 Her stomach dropped. She knew it was too hopeful that the caller would release Jason but she couldn’t just leave him out there. It was killing her inside. 

 “Truth or lie,” the caller continued. “You’ve recently been appointed head cheerleader.”

 Again this was a true fact, something that Chrissy had been working hard on this whole year. When she was given the title after the recent game, she was beyond happy. But again, this was a fact that everyone knew. It was announced to the whole crowd. “Truth!”

 The caller chuckled at her reply, making her worried about where this was going if he was asking such type of questions. “Last one and if you get this right, you’re free to get Jason.”

 Chrissy gripped the phone tighter, determined now to get Jason inside. Maybe in some sick way this was still a prank and her boyfriend’s friends had set this up in some sort of hazing thing. It’s the only thing that would make sense now.

 “Truth or lie, you were cheating on Eddie Munson for two weeks before you broke up with him to date Jason.”

 “That’s a lie!” Chrissy cried quickly. Her shame and fear built up on her all at once. That piece of information was not public knowledge. Not even Eddie knew about that and here this stranger was using it to toy with her. “People spread that rumor to make me look like the bad guy.”

 The caller made a small sigh of disappointment. Tutting into the receiver tauntingly. “Oh Chrissy,” he cooed. “I thought you understood the rules. You have to get the answer right in order to win.”

 “That is the right answer! I didn’t cheat..I didn’t.”

 A familiar sound of a tape rewinding could be heard through the other end before it played back its audio. “I guess..we’ve barely been official with each other for three weeks…..But you and Eddie were together two weeks ago… Seems you’ve been up to an awful lot of no good fun.”

 “NO! Please don’t do this! Just give me one more chance. One more question.”

 “Sorry, sweets. I’ll give you a bonus round. But I'm afraid our dear Jason is out of the game.”

 At that, all the lights in the house turned off. Capturing Chrissy into the darkness. The only thing that echoed within the walls was the sound of the girl’s screaming as she watched a dark shadow cover over Jason’s body. The glint of metal flew in the air as it crisscrossed in front of Jason. 

 The noises had Chrissy frozen in fear as she could hear the sounds of cloth and something else being sliced. A muffled cry of agony following every slash. Without realizing, she had begun to crawl over, needing to see for sure that this was a reality and not some nightmare.

 In some sick twist of fate, the lights flickered back on to reveal the outside to her again. Still in the chair was Jason. Head back as he stared up in the sky, eyes gone and cold. The front of his shirt was torn open to reveal the gushing pieces of his intestines falling out slowly from his stomach. It was too real, the blood would not stop flowing out and Chrissy could barely let out a whimper as she stared at the horror before her.

 Jason was dead. And it was all her fault. 

 The chilling sound of laughter could be heard through the phone. The tears seemed to be endless as she crouched back down, staring blankly as the pool lights were being shut off again. Most likely now being controlled by the man on the phone. “I don’t want to play this anymore..” Chrissy whispered into the phone.

 Again the caller merely chuckled again. “Final question..are you ready?”

 “Please..”

 “TRUTH OR LIE,” he yelled, “You forgot to check one more door in your house.”

 The whole house grew deadly quiet until the only sounds were Chrissy’s panting. Her eyes wide as she went over everything she did before the calls got weird. She locked both doors. The windows weren’t open since no one had been home all day; it was all locked! She was safe!

 “LIE!” She yelled, getting up from her spot. He couldn’t get in, she was sure of it. Standing up, she walked over to the patio door again and confirmed that it was locked. That is until the sound of a door creaking open rolled down the hall.

 “Are you sure about that?”

 Gripping onto the phone tightly, Chrissy made the decision to arm herself with a knife from the island before she ventured out towards the rooms of the house. Any bit of comfort she had was gone out the window as she stepped forward.

 It wasn’t till she looked at the two rooms by the front entrance that she felt herself begin to panic. Her Father’s office door was always locked. She never in her whole time living there ever needed to go in. But that also made her forget the fact that it led out into the patio.

 The killer was in her house and finally making himself known

. 

Not risking the check, she immediately ran up the stairs to the second floor, catching just a glimpse of something reflective coming from the doorway. Once at the top, the mystery caller himself decided to shoot out of the room, causing the door to hit against the way as he raced to the end of the staircase.

 Chrissy gulped as her wide eyes stared down at the man. He was decked out in a black cloak that concealed his whole body, hands covered in matching gloves and covering his face, a haunting ghost mask. He looked up at Chrissy, tilting his head to the side as he took her in. 

 With the phone still clutched in her hand she took a step back and glanced towards the directions of rooms. “I thought you said I could come in for the party.” chuckled the voice from below. The sound of it was almost robotic in person now, making Chrissy realize it was a disguised voice. 

 “Y-you stay the hell away from me asshole! My friends are coming and the fucking cops are gonna give you the god damn chair!” she yelled, returning her gaze to the man. “You better just leave now!”

 He reached down into his cloak and pulled out a hunting knife. The blade glinting in the overhead lighting showed its long body before it was being pointed towards her. “If your friends are coming, I say we give them a good welcome present.” A step up and he waved the knife playfully. “From you and dear ol’ Jason.”

 Turning around, Chrissy dashed over towards her parents bedroom. The only thought being that if she locked herself in, she could find a way to get over the balcony that faced the front of her house and flag down her friends sooner. 

 But the killer was quick, it was barely when she pushed down the lock on the door of the bedroom that she heard the hard piercing sound of the knife being hit against the wood. “Open up, bitch!” the man yelled, causing Chrissy to let out a scream as she scrambled to push her Mother’s dresser against the door. 

 The man on the other side let out an enraged yell, banging possibly his body against the wood to try and get the door open. “STOP IT!” Chrissy yelled, picking back up her fallen weapon as she scrambled over to the balcony. 

 Looking down the road, she let out a happy cry when she noticed a pair of headlights coming down the long drive down. Her friends were here and their presence would scare off the man. Waving her hand out, she began to yell out towards them! “GUYS! PLEASE HURRY! PLEASE!”

 At the sound of her cry, the killer had burst through the door with all his might. Angrily pushing away the dresser that had held him back as he stormed over towards the balcony. Screaming, she reached for the handle of the sliding door, only to gasp at the killer stopping her. The grip of his hand tight as he pulled her inside the room.

Her other hand tried to hit him with the knife, attempting to stab at him when he pulled back enough to throw a punch against her cheek. 

 The hit was hard enough to have her vision go blurry. “W-wait!” she whimpered, attempting to push herself away. That’s when she felt the hard pressure of the knife going into her chest. A hot liquid trickled out of front of her chest, wetting the thin material of her sweater instantly. 

 No pain had ever felt like this. A mixture of throbbing pain and panic coarsed through Chrissy. But before her hand could even reach up to the wound, another stab was being pushed through her stomach. Again and again the killer dragged his knife through her. Making the pain worse with every push against her body.

 The light in the room was so dim, the sound of her heartbeat was up in her ears. Despite the feeling of her body growing weaker, Chrissy reached up the man’s mask. Letting her fingers glaze over the mask before she pulled it off, revealing the face looking down at her. She wanted to ask him why, get an answer, but all she mustered up was a small puff of air. 

 He reached for the mask back, slipping it back on before he dragged her body to the balcony again, the world was fading and Chrissy wished she could stay longer. See the people she cared about one more time. This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t right. 

 The sound of her friend’s car rolling down the driveway was the last she heard before the man tore the knife along the expanse of her stomach. Soon enough the world faded to black and Chrissy felt herself finally pull away into eternal sleep.

 Not wasting a second longer, the man began to pull out parts of her intestines, matching it up to look like Jason’s out back. The sounds of wet squelching noises were happy to the man’s ears. Reaching deep into the cloak’s pocket, he pulled out a long rope and quickly began to tie it around Chrissy’s body. Making sure every knot was tight before he pulled her up from the floor. 

 The stiffness of her body added a bit of a struggle, but he managed to push the blonde over and watch as her body hung against the balcony railing with a harsh drag. Just in time for the audience to arrive.

 “This morning I woke up with this feeling! I didn't know how to deal with it and so I just decided to myself. I'd hide it to myself and never talk about it. And did not go and shout it when you walked into the room! I think I love you-” Three familiar voices sang out. 

 “Will you three shut up!” Huffed the voice of a man below. 

 Peering over the balcony, the man noticed a group of four teens coming down the long driveway. Steve Harrington being the man in front who had his hands on his hips. “I’m really gonna have the song stuck in my head now.” 

 His eyes cast over to you, rushing to push past the girls so that you could catch up to the boy. “Sorry, Steve.” you smiled sweetly, lacing your hand into his. “Robin’s been singing it all day and we can’t help but get into it.”

 Steve’s glare turned slowly into a smile the longer he stared down at you, reaching up to place a loving hand against your cheek. “I like it when you sing, but Statler and Waldorf here are going to annoy me to death.” he chuckled. 

 The man watched as you coyly batted your lashes up at Steve, leaning up in your tippy toes to press a kiss against his lips. The knife in the man’s hands felt heavier than ever and he found himself gripping it tightly. His eyes watched the way Steve’s hands moved to wrap around the expanse of your lower back, pulling your body closer to his. 

 “Oooh!” Cooed the other two girls in the back. Making you turn suddenly shy as you part from Steve. The boy didn't seem upset that the kiss had ended, in fact, he looked over at the other two girls with a bigger grin now before he threw his head back. “I think I love you so what am I so afraid of?! I'm afraid that I'm not sure of a love there is no cure for!”

 The girls all laughed and began to join in the song again, finally going back to making their way towards the front entrance of the home. Taking that as his cue, the man rushed off the balcony towards the room now. Tonight wasn’t the plan he had hoped for, but soon enough he’d be able to see things through.

 “Omnes una manet nox (One night awaits everyone).” he chanted, running through the house till he was out the patio doors. The sight of Jason brought hope to him as he noticed the beginning of a black sludge slowly creep into the blood that coated Jason’s organs. 

 The last thing the man heard as he climbed over the back fence of the land was the echoing screams from the group of teens.

A/N: And we’ve officially begun this storyline! If its too graphic or uncomfortable I do apologize since it’s not my usual type of posting but this is specifically for Halloween so please understand that. I hope you guys enjoy the mini series!

[mageofseven]

Repressed Love: A DiaLuci Love Story

Chapter 30

Tag list: @astroseuss @zarakem @brielle043 @missloserqueen

TW: implied abuse (in the past)

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

It wasn't easy; bringing the key to his fiancée and not being able to fully explain why he had it.

He told her he got it from her father after a discussion. This prompted worry from the woman. Why were you with him? What did you talk about? Is he angry now?

Lucifer couldn't say why he spoke with the man, but assured her that he is not mad and wanted him to give her the key to drawer.

"I've...never been allowed in their old room." She said softly. "Are you sure he said to go there?"

Her fiancé nodded before she lowered her head.

"I...I once tried sneaking in there as kid. He caught me and pinned me against the wall, screaming at me to not even look at the door ever again..."

"Love..." Lucifer wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. "You are safe now, I promise."

"What...what is in there that he wanted to protect so badly?"

"He mentioned a book, something he wanted you to read first." He explained. "Then two letters under it that are to be read after."

Despite her fear, the woman was interested in seeing what her father hid in the room all these years.

She showed her fiancé where the room was, but struggled to go in at first as she remembered her father's angry voice screaming at her to stay away.

Dia backed into Luce and the man held her tight.

"My love, you are stronger than you think." He whispered into her ear.

The princess took a deep breath and nodded before stepping up to the door and slowly opening it.

The room was dark, but the couple could already see it was different than most of the castle. While red was the main color theme in most rooms in the castle, this bedroom was blue, the same shade of blue as the lapis lazuli on the engagement ring that Lucifer wore on his finger.

The couple stepped in carefully. Lucifer hit the light switch to light up the room before leading his fiancée to the stand with a key hold.

The two sat on the bed before Dia brought the key into the hole and unlocked the door.

Inside...was the very book and envelopes.

The woman picked up the book and brush her hand over it to clear it off the dust

Which caused her to sneeze.

She glanced at her fiancé and gave an awkward laugh. The man only gave her a small smile of encouragement and rubbed her back.

He let her read at her own pace. Whatever was in that book was important and he was not going to pry from her it's contents before she was ready.

"It's...it's my mother's diary." She said softly. "He...her father apparently wasn't very nice to her either."

Just another thing the daughter had in common with her mother, unfortunately.

The woman continued to read the page till her eyes went wide.

"Love?"

Diavolo's eyes filled with tears, causing Lucifer to pull her into his arms.

He held her close for moment or two till the woman was ready to say more.

"My mother...she was like Satan and Audriana..." She whispered. "She was born from her father's fears of not being able to do enough, to handle all he needed to....and was known as the Avatar of Inadequacy."

Lucifer could only stare in disbelief.

The king, the man who spoke down to both Satan and Audriana, saw them as incomplete beings who were insignificant and were meant to die...he married a woman the same as them? He married a soul-shatter, a person he saw as a lesser being?

The woman read a few more pages before looking to Luce again.

"He beat her...he hated her." Tears slid down her cheeks. "He saw his daughter as an embarrassment, a walking reminder of his fears that he felt broadcasted his feelings to the world...he only kept her because my other grandfather made him, said it would look bad on the Royal Family if their butler abandoned a child..."

This cut the woman deeply. Just as Diavolo was an embarrassment to her father, so was her mother's father embarrassed of her.

For a woman she never got to meet...Dia had a lot in common with her.

"That's a man who shouldn't have even been around children, much less be allowed to keep one." Luce muttered.

In his mind, there was no excuse for that terrible man. No matter what your fears or vulnerabilities are, you never take your pain out on children. As a father who has been in that butler's shoes before, he found the man to be truly repulsive.

Dia shook her head.

"The other option was...not pleasant." She explained. "We still do not have any sort of reliable system for abandoned children since it is so rare, but back then...the choices were to essentially raise the baby or leave them in the streets to die or be taken in by someone else, if fortunate enough."

The man pursed his lips. This was just another reminder of how much work his love and even her father before her put into improving this realm.

The woman wiped the tears from her eyes so she could read more clearly.

This time, the woman read for a good ten minutes before she even looked up from the diary and even then, she stared into space for a while before she spoke.

"My father did everything to protect her." She whispered. "He even went to his own father, begged him to make the butler stop hurting my mother, but the man only said that it was not his place to tell his servant 'how to parent'. My father couldn't accept that though...he protected her during her whole childhood and beyond...the best he could."

"Your father was a good man once."

Dia nodded.

"He was her protector, her safe space...like how Barbatos was for me while growing up..." She compared before continuing. "He was later supposed to marry some duke's daughter...but he refused. He told his father that he would refuse to marry any person who was not my mother...was not 'Lazuli'."

"Like the gem?"

"Yeah." Dia sniffled but smiled. "Just like the gem on the engagement ring my father gave her."

The woman closed her eyes, smile unwavering.

"Their love was beautiful. Warm even. Full of more care than my mother ever felt before him..."

She hugged the book to her chest for a moment, thinking about the beauty that was her parents' love before lowering it to read once more.

As she read...the light in her eyes died down. Lucifer didn't interrupt her though; simply just held her closer to him.

"They married and she fell pregnant with me...only to develop the same condition as Satan..."

A fresh wave of tears fell down her cheeks and Luce did his best to wipe each and every one away.

"My father felt so powerless...her entire life, he sought to protect her, to help her through all of her issues...and he did. He healed her heart and she was dying because of it..."

Diavolo hid her face in her fiancé's chest and Luce held her tightly against him.

Both could see why the king refused to talk about his late wife because the truth was...their love was a tragedy; every bit of comfort he gave her slowly pushed his wife towards her death and he never knew until she was pregnant and it was no longer just her life on the line.

"You can stop if this is too much for you, love." Luce told her, not wanting the pregnant woman to become too stressed.

She shook her head.

"There's only one entry left...I can do this."

And with that, the woman read the last entry.

Marik is so afraid. He spends all of his time in the library, desperately trying to find a cure.

I wish he would just stay with me. Our child will be born any day now. I just want him by my side, but it seems as if in his pursuit to save me...that he has forgotten me.

I am still alive yet he treats me as if I'm already gone. I wish he would stop. I wish he would just stay with me.

I feel myself unraveling as I write this, but I refuse to come undone. Not till my child here.

Still, I wish he was here with me instead of chasing answers that only the Celestial realm has, according to some documents.

That godhead will not speak to him and I'm not surprised; from my understanding, this is exactly how he gained power in the first place. Hoarding knowledge and keeping it from his own people.

I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of Marik losing himself, coming undone in his own way because of it.

Thanks to him, I found peace. Now I can only hope he will give the same to himself and our daughter once I'm gone.

Dia's mother, Lazuli...she was alone in the end. In Marik's effort to save his wife...he abandoned her instead. Yet the woman was strong till the end, for Diavolo.

Obviously, this entry contained some important info for the couple as well though.

"She called me her daughter..." Diavolo stared at the page in disbelief. "I...how would she have known?"

Lucifer gently took the diary from her and stared at the line about the Celestial realm, about his Father.

So Marik and his wife believed Lucifer's Father held the answers that could have saved her life...meaning his Father might hold the key to saving Satan's life now.

Yet...Lucifer was probably in an even worse position to be asking his Father for information than Diavolo's father was.

How was he supposed to save his son when such information was potentially in the hands of the one man who wished to see Lucifer suffer the most?

[arsonist-frog]

Hey so this is going to be a bit of a different post. I know usually keep this blog pretty light-hearted and just share my art but I just need to talk to someone about this and this is really the only place where I'm allowed to be myself so.

This situation happened about 5 months ago but I haven't been able to move past it or forget about it since then and I just can't stop thinking about it. So maybe talking about it will help.

For context I live in a very small super conservative town. About 5 months ago, I was in Spanish class working on a project when I overheard some of the guys teasing this guy, Jason (not real name). They had been teasing this guy for the last week or so saying that he's gay (I'm not sure if Jason is actually gay or not this was just a rumor). U may be wondering why they believe that he's gay, while its becuase Jason refused to look at some nudes of one of the guy's girlfriends, which he didn't have permission to share btw. So suddenly I hear one of the guys ( I'll call him John) say " it's ok if your gay Jason, just don't come out to me cuz than I'll have to kill ya" than he paused and said "in fact if I find out any of y'all are part of them queers, I'll have to kill you too, sorry that's just how it is" he said this part I little louder like he was addressing the class. Then john said " I just hate (f slur)s, I hate them". Now your probably think omg what teacher do? Send him to the office? Call his parents? Maybe even involve the police since he publicly threatened someone? Nope, she didn't do anything we just continued class like nothing had happened and I know she heard them cuz I heard them all the way on the other side of the room and she was closer. No one did anything they never do (yes there has been multiple situations similar to this). Cuz at my school if you defend lgbt+ people then it's assumed that you're one of them and you can imagine by the way they treated Jason how that will go. And it's not just one person etheir. Their used to be a few out LGBT people there but they both ( yup only 2 in a school of 200ish) moved schools cuz they couldn't handle the bulling anymore.

I want to do something. I'm so tried of hiding of being terrified of people that I've known since kindergarten. I used to be friends with these people now I'm scared to even be in the same room as them. I can't trust anyone. I just wish I could do something but that would blow my cover and my family (plus they are homophobic too) can't afford to switch schools. I feel like a coward for just sitting watching people just like me being harassed. I used to love school now I dread going everyday . I used to think this town was the best place on earth now I can't wait until I can get out . I'm just so tired of hiding but it's not like I really have a choice. I hate it here. I've thought of running away before but I know that's not a good option. I just have to wait it out and I'm getting closer. I'm 17 now and about to start my senior year. I only have 1 year left at that school.

So yeah sorry for venting like that but don't really have anyone irl to talk to about this. I do feel a little bit better now tho.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

[fangurk]

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

[futuremrsreid]

Baby Steps

Request: @gubswh0re requested: "hi! could you do 20,25 & 48 from the promt list all in one? would be amazing, thank you!!"

Summary: A case gone wrong and Spencer blames himself. Reader tries to make him feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid x reader

Category: hurt/comfort, angst, a bit of fluff if you never felt happiness before

CW: sad as fuck uhm I lowkey broke my own heart but its also really sweet

Word Count: 1,9k

If I had to describe Spencer Reid handling his emotions in two words, they would be “quiet suffering”. In the two years I have known him he only opened up a handful of times. Not in the sense of him never talking about his past or things that happened to him, but whenever he talked about these things, he tells them like one of his facts. He tells you that his mother has schizophrenia, but he doesn't tell you how he feels about it. It always reminds me of a medical anamnesis.

On rare occasions, he would break. Everything became too much, even for him. I remember the first time I witnessed it very clearly. It was after he visited his mom for a few days and, from what he told me, she was in such a bad condition that she didn’t even recognize him. He was devastated and when he was on his way back he drove straight to my apartment, not knowing how to deal with everything. Spencer didn’t call or text before he arrived there and saying I was surprised when I opened my door doesn't even come close. His eyes were bloodshot and it looked like he hadn’t slept for weeks. Truth be told, I was very overwhelmed so I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled him inside and hugged him as hard as humanly possible. 

In the office everyone always jokes about Dr Reid and his fear of human touch, but he hugged me back so hard that breathing became just a little difficult, and in that moment I realized the reason he doesn’t hug people isn’t because of his fear of bacteria. It’s because of the closeness of it. My heart cracked then.

The next discovery I made was that Spencer is a quiet cryer. I didn’t even notice it until his tears started seeping through my shirt and I could feel the wetness. I don’t know how long we stood there, but when I could feel him calming down a bit, I pulled away just enough to be able to look at him. He was extremely embarrassed and started to pull away completely to cover his face with his hands, but I’m too stubborn for that, so I grabbed his wrists and made him look at me. He started crying again then. 

It took an hour until he started telling me what got him so upset and after that we talked the whole night, about his mother, her sickness and everything related to it. I always hoped that he would open up about it eventually, but when he finally did, I couldn’t handle it very well. I tried not to cry myself, but that is hard when the person you love most breaks down in front of you like that. 

That night I held him close, let him lie on my chest, played with his hair - everything to try and make his pain go away. And after that day I thought things would have changed, that he would stop hiding and open up more to me,  but I was very wrong. When he woke up the next morning he apologized about a hundred times and no words or reassurance made him less ashamed. Afterwards he tried to act like nothing had ever happened.

So in conclusion: I had done a lot of difficult tasks in my life, but getting Spencer Reid to talk about his feelings was by far the most difficult. Nonetheless, today was one of those rare days.

We just came back from a really shitty case that resulted in more victims than it should have due to the police department holding back evidence. It was messy and frustrating and exhausting. Spencer was there when one of the victims was shot and he blamed himself for not preventing it, even though we all told them that there was no chance that he could have done it.

And as if the case itself wasn't bad enough, we were stuck for more time back in the office to do the paperwork. When the clock turned 8 pm Hotch came out of his office to tell us to go home. We all sighed in relief and started packing up our things. All of us except a particular dr. He was still sitting at his desk, typing away on his computer. I watched him for a while, contemplating what to do, and after everyone said their goodbyes, I walked over to him.

“Come on. I’ll take you home”, I said, leaning on his desk trying to catch his eyes with mine. No luck.

“I still have work to do, I’ll take the subway home later.” He continued typing like i wasn’t even there and I got frustrated. The case was already bad enough and I would not stand here watching him torture himself.

“That wasn’t a request, Spencer.” I didn’t intend to sound so harsh but hey, at least it made him look at me. “We are gonna leave. Now.” He opened his mouth to protest and closed it again, he knew better than to argue with me. My eyes said it all: If he would stay, I would stay. And since Spencer Reid cares about everyone but himself, he closed his computer and packed up his things.

The walk to my car was quiet, and so were the first 5 minutes of driving. I kept glancing at him from the driver's seat, but he was looking out of the window, lost in thought. The guy on the radio made a stupid comment and normally he would have immidiatly complained, but it seemed like he didn’t even hear it. His brain is a beautiful place with a million facts and ideas, yet I can imagine how scary it can be as well. When Spencer gets really lost in his thoughts he begins to spiral and I can just guess that that is what happened at that moment. Only then I came to the conclusion that he wanted to stay and work because that would distract him from anything going on inside. 

“Talk to me, Spence.” My tone was pleading, practically begging at this point.

“I’m fine, y/n.” I sighed. I was thinking about just letting it go, but then I thought about him alone in his apartment, stuck in this beautiful scary brain of his. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how. I took a deep breath. If you're lost, stick to what you know.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”, he turned to me with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Do you trust me?”, I asked again, looking him in the eyes this time.

“Of course I trust you. Why are you even asking me this?”

“We’re making a detour. I’m gonna show you something.” My words didn’t leave room for questions so we just fell silent again. He continued to watch me with a questioning look, but i tried to ignore him. I was too focused on taking the right turns anyway. It was hard to find my way in the dark, but 5 minutes later we were there. I got out of the car and waited for Spencer to do the same and after he did, he seemed more confused than ever. I walked over to the familiar building and fished for a key at the same moment. 

“What is this place?”

“It’s an art gallery. My mom used to work here.” I found what I was looking for and started to unlock the door.

“And you just have a key to this place?” If the circumstances were different, I would have laughed at his confusion, however, the circumstances weren’t different.

“Yep.” The door opened and I looked for the light switch. “Come on, just follow me.” 

I led us up the 5 flights of stairs and then, after 2 more doors we were finally there. The place that has been the only place I called home for the years before I joined the team.

“Are you sure we should be doing this? We’re not breaking in right now, are we?” At this I did laugh. I stepped further onto the rooftop. 

“Relax Spence, we are not breaking any laws.” He was still hesitant so I took his hand and pulled him to the edge. The railing was high, meaning there was no danger of falling down. I let go of his hand and leaned on it. The building was on a small hill and since it had a few stories, you were able to look over a big part of the city. It was always a beautiful view, but that night was extra special. It was a Friday in the late summer, which didn’t only mean the sky was clear, there were also a lot of traffic lights and buildings that shone bright. 

I just watched and after a few minutes Spencer stood beside me and did the same. Some time passed before I broke the silence.

“How many people are living in the US?” He didn’t hesitate before answering. It was like a reflex for him by now. I liked to ask random questions all the time and to this day, he always had an answer.

“331.002.651 people.” I paused for a few seconds.

“You can’t protect all of them, Spencer.”

“Y/n I-”

“I mean it, Spence. It is humanly impossible to protect everyone. You can protect some of them, maybe even a lot, but you won’t ever be able to do that if you keep beating yourself up over incidents like today.” He sighed and opened his mouth to speak, but I wasn’t done. “I know how you feel and I know it’s not easy. There was no chance for you to save that girl, Spencer. Zero. And if you can’t accept that, you will lose yourself. And then you won’t be able to save anyone anymore.” I know it was harsh, however, sometimes that's the only language he understands.

“You could have said all of that in the car.” He paused. “Why did you take me here?” I didn’t expect him to comment on what I said. He knew I was right, that’s all I needed.

“My mom sometimes took me with her on her shifts and after she was done we would go up here. After she died the owner gave me a key so that I could come here every time I needed it. Or needed her.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Not anymore. This place was the only thing making me feel at home for years and I came almost every day, but when I started working at the BAU I stopped going here more and more. And now I don’t really need it anymore, because my apartment finally started feeling like home. Especially when you are there.” I looked at him while saying that last sentence and I saw him smile for the first time in days. His eyes caught mine.

“Thank you, y/n.” Those words could have many different meanings. Thank you for taking me here. Thank you for staying. Thank you for making me feel better. But it didn’t matter what he meant, because I knew.

“Do you want to go home?”

“I think I’d like to stay for a bit longer.”

And that's what we did. We stayed there for hours. That night we talked through every possible way of how Spencer could have acted differently, yet every scenario ended with the death of that girl. After that he finally accepted that it wasn’t his fault. Baby steps.

[idk-maybe-i-did-it]

Late Nights

Caitlin Snow x Reader

Request:  maybe a Jealous!Frost x Female!Reader? Maybe Cisco sets reader out on a date to try and get frost and caitlin to admit their feelings for reader, and when reader is about to leave Frost comes out and shyly admits both hers and Caitlins feelings for reader? I think shy & jealous frost is cute. Maybe finish it with a kiss?- @idontloveher

A/N: So I did switch up the request a little bit and I know the writing isn’t the best but I hope you like it. It’s been a hot second since I’ve turned on The Flash, I feel like I may have captured Caitlin’s character incorrectly but this is my first request for The Flash so please excuse any mistakes!

Warnings: Swearing, Innuendos, tell me if you see anything else

———————————

Caitlin Snow wasn’t even aware that Y/n L/n was going on a date that night until N/n asked her to come over to help pick an outfit. 

Frost almost blew Cisco out of a window when she figured out that he’d set it up. Caitlin was done working, merely helping Barry with something, when Y/n had walked in to ask her if she would leave with her then, to help her find an outifit. 

“ Caity bell, Cisco set me up with a date. Care to help me pick an outift?” 

She was leaning against the door, typing away at a computer pad, presumably finishing up her work for the day, and her hair was hanging like a curtain infront of her face. 

Y/n looked up at Caitlin after a moment of silence and tucked her hair behind an ear, “ Caitlin?”

She looked so wonderously glorious in that moment, a smile to her face, the furrow of her brows, Caitlin’s heart leapt at the sight of her. 

But Barry, no Barry was preparing for the blow Cisco was about to recieve from Frost. In those initial moments after Y/n had walked in, Caitlin’s eyes changed and he could see Frost take a look into the world for a moment. It was at that moment when he knew, Cisco was in a deep pile of shit.

Well, not really a pile of shit, he’d more or less just have to deal with Frost and Caitlin complaining about setting their friend up on a date for the rest of the week. 

Y/n began to smirk at the look on Caitlin’s face. She was being pouty but smiling nonetheless. N/n knew that Caitlin would dress her up in something casual yet elegant, because Caitlin knew how Y/n looked in everything, Caitlin knew what made her eyes sparkle and what made her cheeks flush, she knew what looked flattering on her and what complimented her smile. 

Caitlin knew everything about Y/n and Y/n knew everything about Caitlin. 

Caitlin, Cisco, Barry and Y/n the original four. 

But Caitlin and Y/n? They were the original two, the original set, the two people of their group who’d known each other for longer than anyone else did. 

They’d always told each other their secrets, their every thought, but they never told anyone of how they felt for one-another. No, that secrect, those thoughts, were meant only for themselves. Their feelings were something that went unspoken between the members of Team Flash, but neither of them knew that, neither of them wanted to make a move, they didn’t want to seem too ‘desperate’ but unbeknownst the them, they’d been desperate for each olther since day one. 

\\

“ You look stupendous Y/n, don’t worry about anything, Frost and I both think you look beautiful as always. Some random person meeting you at Jitters can’t bring you down.”

“ Are you sure Caity?” she asked, earnest in her voice. 

Caitlin was sure that she looked stupendous, oh she was very sure. 

It wasn’t just another day when her best friend went on a date, no it was a very, abnormal day when that happened. 

“ I’m quite sure N/n. Now hurry off, there’s a person waiting for you.”

\\

Caitlin wasn’t mad at Cisco, no, quite the opposite. She was pleased that he’d gone and set her up with someone because Y/n had been looking a bit down lately. Although knowing it could help her friend feel better, Caitlin, and Frost, couldn’t help but be disheartened at the idea of N/n going out on a date, even a blind one, with someone else. 

Oh how she wished to be the person Y/n went to meet, how she wished to greet her with a warm smile and a peck on the cheek every morning, Caitlin wished the best for her friend but still wished she would turn right back around and tell her the meet up was cancelled. Caitlin was sadenned, yes, but she couldn’t help but be happy for her friend, no matter how much it hurt her inside. 

Caitlin wished she hadn’t gone out on the date but she wasn’t in charge of her best friends decisions, and she never wished to be. 

Everyone should have the right to make their own decisions for themselves. 

Frost handled her emotions differently than her counterpart did. When she’d heard Tech-Boy had set their friend up with someone she’d been infuriated with him. He’d known that Caitlin and I like Y/n and had still gone out of his way to arrange plans?! She was okay with Y/n doing what made her happy, although she couldn’t help but feel jealous of the person meeting her forever love at Jitters. 

Caitlin nor Frost had felt good watching their friend leave the building, they’d each felt uneasy and all they’d wanted to do was reach out, grasp her by the arm lightly and plead with her to stay rather than leave. Caitlin and Frost wanted her friend to be happy so they helped her prepare, dressed in the dress that they’d always favored on Y/n, those sandals that they’d picked for each other; so they might be able to ‘accidentally’ match shoes at work for the day. Caitlin dressed Y/n in all of her favorites, the clothing her and Frost had always thought was their favorite from Y/n’s closet. So that maybe someone else might see the beauty both inside and outside of her, so that maybe one day someone else would come to think those clothes were their favorites on her. 

So that maybe once day Y/n would have someone for herself, someone to cherish like Caitlin and her had always cherished each other. 

And then Caitlin (and Frost) knew exactly what she had to do, because it wasn’t someone else whom she wished Y/n would love and hold with a tenderness so tender it’d be like holding a newborn babe, it was herself whom she wanted Y/n to see that way, it was her who had loved Y/n with that gentle gracefullness ever since they were young. And it was herself whom she wanted Y/n to love with that gentle gracefullness for the rest of their lives. 

Caitlin and Frost were one in the same, but there were things they disagreed on. However what Caitlin was about to do, was a mutual agreement between them both.

Caitlin wanted to be with her best friend, she wanted to be with her for as long as Y/n liked. All she wanted was to rush off and catch Y/n before the date and whisk her away on a plate of ice. But she would wait until afterwards, because Y/n seemed happy when she left earlier. She would talk to her about it after her date, whenever after would be, as for the then and now, Caitlin would go to Y/n’s apartment and get the board games and Netflix and snacks set up for when she would be back.

One of her favorite things to do after going out with someone, which had always been the thing they’d done, was to come to Caitlin’s (or her own) home, watch movies, play games and eat a shitload of junk food.

\\

Caitlin was surprised when she unlocked her door and found Y/n laying on the couch, Barry sitting next to her, and a bunch of Big Belly Burger bags surrounding them.

Y/n turned, leaning against the armrest to peer at Caitlin. Caitlin’s heart nearly broke when she saw the glistening tears on her friends cheeks.

She set down her purse and cautiously walked towards the couch, glancing quizzically at Barry when he stood to leave.

“ Y/n what happened? Why are you back so early? Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

“ No—no Caity nothings happened I just.. I just realized I have something to tell you.”

Y/n looked down, sniffling and waited until after her best friend had sat beside her to talk.

“ Caitlin I—“

“ N/n are you hurt? Take of your blanket, let me see your arms for any bruises—she grasped her face and turned it from side to side— N/n you know how I get worried—“

A soft kiss was planted on Caitlin’s lips, an un-rushed, passion filled kiss.

Y/n let go and smiled tentatively at Caitlin, her finger on the underside of her jaw where she’s pulled Caity’s face closer to her own.

“ That was what I had to tell you.”

Caitlin’s face flushed and Y/n went on to explain, “ Well you see— I was opening the door to Jitters and— and well I walked in and I ended up rushing out because, because well I didn’t really want to go out on a date with anybody per say, anybody but you.”

Caitlin’s face remained unreadable so Y/n went on, “ I called Barry on the way back t—“

“ so why were you crying?”

Caitlin looked depressed in that moment, her eyes were sad and the corners of her mouth were turned down, she reached her arm in front of her to wipe a single tear away and off of her cheek.

“ Because, well I didn’t think you wanted to go on a date with me is all.”

The smile on her face was meek, the smile a child would wear had they been caught stealing cookies.

She reached out and wiped the tear from Caitlin’s eye.

“ there’s no reason to cry my love.”

Laughter, light and bubbly, came from Caitlin’s mouth and she popped her arms around Y/n’s neck, pulling her in for a kiss. One last kiss.

One last kiss. It would be all that she would take.

\\

Turns out, Caitlin didn’t really want to stop at the last kiss. So it was no surprise when morning came and there was the smell of food wafting through the bedroom door, it didn’t take her by surprise at all. After all, it had been a late night.

———————————————————————-

Drink some water, Eat some food and Remember You Are Loved!

^-^

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

  Taglist: @kirbykook​ @kleritata​ @taestannie​ @jenotation​ @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban​ @speed-of-wind​ @kawaisoraya​

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“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.  

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.  

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

.

.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

.

.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.  

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

.

.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

.

.

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 6

AN: And it all comes to an end....

Overall Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: An attack in Manhattan brings the gang back together for their final fight against Karli. (Based on S1 EP6)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,897 

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 6, Violence, some strong language, fluff

“Hello?” You put the phone on speaker as you answered it. 

“I got a hit.” Sam informed you. You looked towards Bucky who had just put both your bags down by the couch. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Karli’s in New York. I think they’re gonna hit the GRC meeting.” 

“Makes sense.” Bucky tilted his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

“Right. We’ll suit up and meet you there?” You moved toward your bag to get your things. 

“With these new wings, I may even beat you.” You could practically hear Sam’s smirk through the phone. You hung up and immediately started to change. 

By the time you were kitted up and ready to go, the news had announced the GRC meeting had gone into a complete lockdown. 

“Guess Sam was right.” You switched off the tv and picked up your final knife. 

To get you down to the building quickly, you hijacked a motorbike. When you arrived there were swarms of news anchors and cops. 

You dismounted the bike and headed to the front of the crowds. 

“I’m almost there.” Sam’s voice came through on your coms. 

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked as he walked beside you. 

“Karli’s gotta be close. Keep your eyes open.” Sam ordered. Your eyes began to search the surrounding areas. 

“Well, it could be anybody.” Bucky mumbled. He was right. Karli had a huge following, she didn’t even need to be here but you were praying she would be. 

“And by the way, I called in some backup.” Sam informed you both. 

Then, at that moment, a stranger approached the both of you. 

“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” The man asked before reaching to his face and removing the illusion mask. “It’s me.” Sharon was revealed underneath. 

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked, looking around to see if anyone had been watching. 

“Relax. No one’s looking for me here.” Sharon assured you both. 

“Is that Sharon?” Sam had recognised her voice over the coms.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky retorted. 

“Hey, Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.” Sharon made herself known to him. 

“Thank you. You’re risking a lot coming here.” Sam thanked her. 

“I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” Sharon tried making light of her being back whilst still being a fugitive. 

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky proclaimed. You ignored the comment as you continued to survey the scene. 

“They’ll move on the building soon. Be ready.” Sam warned you as he grew closer. And he was right. Within the building, gas was let off which set off a panic. The building had to be evacuated. 

“(Y/n), Bucky, what’s going on on your end?” Sam had entered the building through the window where the hostages were being ushered towards the stairs. 

“Nothing. All quiet.” Bucky told Sam. 

“No one’s moving toward the building.” You added as you patrolled alongside Sharon and Bucky. 

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everybody out.” Sam had realised Karli’s plan. You looked between Bucky and Sharon. Time for you to go in. yourselves. 

“You guys are gonna have to do something.” Sam’s voice came through as you entered the doors.  “Don’t let ’em out of the building.”

“Oops.” Sharon said after realising you just let out several people.

“There’s one of em.” Bucky pointed across the building to an impressively large guard. “I’ll get the evac.” 

“I’m with Bucky.” You followed Bucky towards the stairwell. 

As you were just around to reach the stairs, a woman came forward with a phone. 

“Mr. Barnes, it’s Karli.” She handed the phone over to Bucky. 

“I’ll go.” You let him take the call and continued to pursue the hostages. 

You reached the underground parking lot in time to see the hostages being loaded up into police trucks. 

You knew you couldn’t take on all the guards at once and you’d only cause a panic with the hostages, forcing them to run off in different directions and you weren’t even sure which guards were Karli’s and which were the GRCs. 

You clocked the large guard from before that Sharon was meant to have gone after. He was applying some sort of lock onto the back of the trucks. 

As the final guards climbed into the trucks, you took your shot. You silently ran up behind the large man and forced yourself up onto his back, your hands grabbing onto the guards face. He cried out as he threw you off but the connection was just enough to use your powers. 

You fell to the floor, his memories tunnelling through your head like a bullet. He sent his boot into your stomach several times before leaving you. The trucks had already driven away and you remained on the floor so he didn’t bother with killing you. 

You searched his memories for Karli’s plan. 

“Sam.” You wheezed. “I know what Karli is planning to do.” 

“What? How?” Sam responded through your ear piece, sounding concerned. 

“She used her powers.” Sharon piped up. You looked around the garage to see her hiding behind a large concrete pillar with her eyes on the guard. 

“I’m sending you the coordinates for their rendezvous now.” You typed over the coordinates on your arm pad. 

Bucky finally made it down to you and helped you from the floor. 

“You can’t fight anymore. You gotta sit this one out.” Bucky told you as the look of exhaustion was obvious on your face. 

“Shut up and get moving.” You weren’t having any of it. You moved towards the bikes and Bucky climbed on in front. 

You pulled out a small syringe from the inside of your jacket and Bucky cocked an eyebrow at it. 

“In case of emergencies, right?” You stabbed the syringe into your thigh and injected the serum. It was a serum that Bruce Banner had worked on with you for these dire times. It gave you enough energy after using your powers to allow you to fight again. There were only a handful of them and the come down afterwards was worse than anything you had experienced but it kept you in the game when you needed it most. 

Bucky set off on route to the hostages. 

You gripped onto him tightly as he sped through the alleys and roads. 

“You better speed things up, Sam. The choppers about to take off.” You heard Sharon warn Sam. 

“Bucky?” Sam called out through the coms.

“I don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” Bucky wasn’t going to be any help now that he was almost at the rendezvous point anyway.

You spotted the trucks up ahead along with large concrete road blocks. 

“Drop me here.” You told Bucky as you were far enough away for them to not have seen you yet. Bucky did as he was told before speeding off ahead. 

You ran down the sidewalk to keep yourself hidden. The flag smashers should be too busy dealing with Bucky to realise you were going after the trucks. 

You reached one of the trucks only to find it the locks were impenetrable. It then didn’t take long for one of the super soldiers to find you. You ducked as she sent her fist towards you. You pulled out your knives, one in each hand, and began to attack. 

Suddenly, a fire rose beside the truck. 

“Bucky!” You shouted out as you fought. You knew only he could open those doors with his strength and his arm. 

The soldier managed to get a grip on your shoulder and tossed you across the street like a pillow. You groaned as your body collided with the concrete. 

“Morgenthau!” You recognised the voice as it cried out Karli’s name. It was Walker. 

You pushed yourself to your feet and ran back over to the fight. Bucky was desperately trying to open the doors to the truck and John had started to attack Karli. 

You lunged forward as John hit the floor, surrounded by the soldiers. 

One broke away to fight you. 

You growled and grunted as you brought forth all the power you had in you to fight the soldier. 

Bucky had saved the hostages inside the burning truck and had come through to help John also. 

You grew distracted when you witnessed Bucky falling into the building site. 

The soldier took advantages of your loss of focus and managed to put you to the floor with a solid punch to the side of your head. 

You vision went spotted and blurred and your head pounded as you lulled on the ground. You were unsure of how long you were lying there when you felt someone take your arm and drag you along the concrete towards one of the trucks. 

Karli pulled the drivers door open and shoved you into the passenger seat before climbing in herself. She reached across you and crushed the handle so you couldn’t get out. 

Your vision began to clear just as Karli threw herself from the vehicle. 

The truck crashed through the gates and down onto the scaffolding. You clung onto the seat as you leant back to stop the truck from moving any further forward. 

“Stay calm!” You snapped at the screaming hostages but the truth was you weren’t feeling calm yourself.

You could see Bucky beneath you.

 It was one high drop. 

You wouldn’t survive this fall. Not sitting in the front. Not at this height with the weight of this machinery. 

“Fuck.” You cussed under your breath as your heart thudded against your chest. Bucky could see you inside and he felt his whole body tremble. 

You locked your eyes with his. You didn’t want to go. You only just got him back. 

Suddenly, the truck shifted again but this time it was being dragged backwards. You glanced to the side view mirror to see John trying to save you. 

You couldn’t help but gasp when the flag smashers tore him away from the truck. They all tumbled down to the pit. You squeezed your eyes shut as the truck rolled forward again. 

You were thrown forward onto the glass of the windshield when the truck abruptly stopped.

You opened your eyes to see that Sam had finally made it. 

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” You let out a shaky laugh as relief washed over you. 

 Sam managed to get the truck up safely. You escaped through the drivers door and embraced him. 

“Looking good.” You smiled at the suit. Sam only winked before taking you down to Karli. 

He threw the shield, hitting each flag smasher as he put you down. 

“You of all people bought into that bullshit?” Karli looked beyond betrayed at Sam’s new look. 

 “I’m trying something different. Maybe you should do the same.” Sam retorted. 

Just as you went to step forward, smoke bombs were sent down on top of you. It gave Karli the chance to get away. 

Fortunately, Sam could use his goggles to track them. 

“Hey, Sharon. We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.” Sam informed Sharon on your position as you all made your way through the tunnel. “Looks like they split up. Here.” Sam stopped at an intersection. 

John took off without a word. Bucky looked back at you and Sam. 

“I got it.” He sighed before following. 

“I’ll head this way. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.” You broke off in the opposite way to Bucky and John whilst Sam went up ahead.  You kept your guard up as you silently made your way around the place. It was like a maze and you had kept running into dead ends. 

You cussed as you wished you had the app for the flag smashers in order to receive any news. It was the only way them and you would know the new meet up point. 

“(Y/n), we found Karli’s team.” Bucky sent you the location. You hesitated to follow as a bad feeling began to seep into you. “(Y/n)?” Bucky questioned if you could hear him.

“On my way.” You replied, ultimately deciding to join back with Bucky, ignoring your instinct.

When you reached Bucky and Walker, the soldiers had been apprehended. 

“Good job, boys.” You congratulated them. “Sam? Any news?” You asked over the coms. 

“I’ve got Karli. She didn’t make it.” Sam’s news made your stomach drop.

Karli didn’t make it. She didn’t make it.

“Hey, come here.” Bucky pulled you into his chest after he saw your face drain of colour. All that was playing through your head was the girl’s memories of Karli. Karli playing with the children, her smile, her laughter, her passion. 

You forced them from your mind as you made your way to the surface. Ambulances, cop cars and the press had all moved location from the GRC meeting to there. 

Your eyes followed everyone’s gaze as Sam came into view. 

He flew down to the ground with Karli’s body in his arms. 

You felt Bucky slide his fingers down your wrist and take your hand, squeezing it tightly. 

When Sam’s feet touched the ground he was ambushed with questions from reporters. He approached the senators without answering any of them. 

He was thanked by them before he asked about the relocating plans.

“Our peacekeeping troops will begin relocating people soon.” He was told. 

“The terrorists only set us back a bit––”

“––Stop calling them terrorists.” Sam interrupted

“What else would we call them?” They questioned. 

“Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the world, right? What do you think those people are gonna call you? These labels, “terrorists,” “refugee,” “thug,” they’re often used to get around the question, why?” Sam started,

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?” They argued against him. 

“Yes.” Sam spoke honestly. 

"And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless? Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.” They tried to put Sam down but Sam wasn’t walking away. 

“You know what? You’re right. And that’s a good thing. We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging, and I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is… Now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you could remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful it could erase half the planet, you would know that you’re about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions, Senator.”

“You don’t understand.” They grumbled. 

“I’m a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here… I feel it. The stares, the judgment. And there’s nothin’ I can do to change it. Yet, I’m still here. No super serum, no blond hair, or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better. We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway. Look, you control the banks. Shit, you can move borders! You can knock down a forest with an email, you can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room when you make those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” Sam paused. “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you, and no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve gotta do better, Senator. You’ve gotta step up. Because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t wanna see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is, ‘How are you going to use it’?” 

You smiled widely at Sam as he finished, walking away. He really was Captain America. 

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, a Black guy in stars and stripes.” Bucky teased the man as he approached you. 

You wrapped your arm around Sam, half embracing him as Bucky patted him on the back. 

“Nice job, Cap.” Bucky smiled. 

“Thanks.” Sam took the compliment. 

“Sharon?” You smile dropped when you spotted Sharon trying to perform her own medical procedures beside a car. 

“Your blocking my light.” Sharon hissed as she fiddled with her wounds. 

“We gotta get you to a hospital.” Sam frowned at the state of her. 

“She’s not gonna listen.” Bucky stated flatly. 

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.” Sharon admitted, avoiding the mention of the hospital. 

“Told you.” Bucky quipped. 

“Uh, Cap?” A man came forward, interrupting for a moment. 

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon turned her face away to not risk getting recognised.  “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” Sam chuckled. 

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky ushered Sharon to move. 

“I didn’t forget my promise.” Sam turned to remind Sharon of his promise to get her a pardon before he left. 

You decided to take Sharon back to the apartment and fix her up there. You had enough supplies and the experience to do an adequate job of it. 

“What now? Back to Madripoor?” You asked Sharon as you cup open her top. 

“Seems like it.” She winced as she spoke.

“Sam will get you that pardon. You might as well stick around.” Bucky returned to your side with a bowl of water and a cloth. 

You worked in silence for a few minutes before Sharon realised something. She had been watching Bucky watch you. 

“You finally slept together, didn’t you?” Sharon smirked as it hit her. 

“Oh my god.” You groaned, rolling your head back. 

“I mean I knew something was different...” Sharon’s smart mouth was quickly shut as you pressed into her wound.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Bucky excused himself as he felt a blush creep up his neck.

“Bout time.” Sharon murmured but it was the last she mentioned it after the glare you shot her. 

Sharon didn’t stick around after you stitched her up. You understood why but you were still hesitant to let her leave. 

As she did, you started to really feel the come down effects of the serum. 

“Hey. Hey.” Bucky caught you as you began to sway on your feet. He sat you down on his coach and placed his hand on your head. “You’re burning up.”

“It’s the serum.” You reminded him. It had been a long time since you used it last. 

Sweat covered down your forehead and soaked your clothes. Your body ached, it felt like it was on fire, and your head was hammering.

Bucky helped you remove your clothes before wrapping a thin blanket around you. He fetched a cloth to rest on your forehead as you laid back. 

His face twisted into a grimace as you began to scream and whine, writhing in front of him. 

And there was nothing he could do but watch.

The pain of the serum leaving your body was excruciating. Bucky brought over the bin as you had flimsily pointed to it. You curled over the side of the couch and threw up. 

Bucky brushed your hair away from your face with his hand and held it behind your head. 

“I forget how bad this got.” Bucky confessed as you choked.

The rest of the night was spent like that until you eventually fell asleep against Bucky’s bare chests whilst he held you. The coldness of his metal arm was refreshing against your burning skin. 

In the morning, you woke to the news that the captured super soldiers had been blown up on their way to the raft. 

It was announced there were no suspects but both you and Bucky knew exactly who was responsible. 

Zemo. 

“There’s somethings I gotta do today.” Bucky told you as he brushed his lips against your hair. 

“You want me to come with you?” You asked. You were weak but you were better after suffering through the night. 

“No. It’s something I gotta do it on my own.” Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours as you rested against him. 

“Okay.” You nodded. “But I’m here if you need me.” 

“I know.” Bucky kissed the back of your hand before pushing himself off the couch. “Now let’s get you in the shower because you stink.” 

You laughed as Bucky helped you up.

Bucky told you in the bathroom about his neighbour. He offered for you to see the memories you had missed since you last used your powers on him but you didn’t want to be informed on every thought/memory he had during the time you were away.

He told you what his plans were. It had been a long time since he had been this open. 

You spent the rest of the morning cleaning yourself and then the apartment. Bucky helped before you finally encouraged him to get on with his day. 

He didn’t return until late. 

He walked through the door and you could see his hands were shaking still. 

You didn’t say anything. You just hugged him. 

The days went by and soon enough you were being called by Sam again. 

He had invited you for a little celebration down at the dock. So, you travelled back down to Louisiana and back into Sam’s home town. 

The children instantly went for Bucky as you both arrived. You laughed as he chased after them with a cake in his hands. 

“Where is everybody?” Bucky asked them. 

Sam and Sarah embraced the both of you warmly and an overwhelming sense of love flooded around you. 

Pictures were being taken with Sam, the food was amazing, the beer was cold and it was a beautiful evening. 

You were stood against one of the wooden pillars, watching Bucky speak with Sarah, a couple kids dangling on his arm. You smiled and took a swig from your bottle.

“Don’t get soppy on me now.” Sam joined you, sipping on his own beer.

“Me? Soppy?” You scoffed, shaking your head. 

Sam rolled his eyes as he draped his arm over your shoulders. You leant into his embrace. 

“I visited the memorial for Isaiah in the museum.” You confessed.  

“Yeah?” Sam cocked his eyebrow at you with a smile. 

“It’s a great thing you’ve done for that man.” You praised him. “I’m proud of you, Captain America.” 

Sam clutched his heart with his hand dramatically. 

“My god!” He proclaimed. 

“Shut up.” You nudged him with your hip. You both laughed before making your way down the dock to watch the sunset. 

Bucky joined you. 

It felt good to be there. It felt like home. 

AN: To be continued?? I’ll probably leave this fic here for now but I may continue it on in the future.

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[pcvensies]

*.• Si vis amari.

II. The Sun.

in which 18 year old gojo satoru is left in charge of 6 year old fushiguro megumi and 8 year old tsumiki fushiguro, with the help of 17 year old nanami suki (oc).

word count: 3280

I. The Moon.

Soft light crept through the curtains, and Suki turned around to protect her sleepy eyes, stretching her whole body as she groaned, legs shaking as she did. She scratched her head, hair falling on her eyes, and the blonde sat up, eyes getting used to the new light of the room before a voice interrupted her awakening.

“Gojo I told you you’d sleep on the floor, get the fu-”.

Kento opened his eyes, hair messy and an angry expression plastered in his face. But his sight found only his twin, instead of the white haired boy.

The blonde was as confused, looking around and finding herself in a room different to the one she had fallen asleep into.

They both got up, Suki opening the windows and Kento making the bed.

“Though you were taking the couch”.

“I did”, she answered, looking through the window, rolling her eyes at the thought of Satoru changing places with her.

The blonde walked to her bedroom, opening the door to a sleeping Fushiguro on her bed, the kid snorting peacefully. She closed the door again, and this time walked to the living room.

It was empty, and so was the kitchen, and Suki felt her stomach sink. Had Gojo simply left them with the kid? It didn’t sound like him, but neither did this whole situation. He was acting very strangely, honestly, maybe…

She shook her head, shaking the thought away, and walking to the kitchen to make breakfast.

“Any idea where Gojo is?”, she asked out loud, making coffee.

“Nope”, her brother replied, rubbing his eyes as he sat at the kitchen table, “But he better be back to get the kid”.

Suki poured two coffees, one with milk and the other black, and sat in front of her brother, as he opened a bag of croissants that rested on the table.

“Can you get the juice from the fridge?”, Kento asked, earning a groan from his twin.

“Could have said before I sat down, couldn’t you Ken?”, she complained, as her hand found the fridge door.

Stuck with a magnet, a note caught her attention: “Call me when u wake up, we have something to pick up. Bring hedgehog kid! -Toru xx”. The girl sighed, throwing the note to her brother’s head as she sat back down with the juice box.

Kento read it and didn’t bother asking, he simply poured two glasses of juice, croissant hanging from his mouth as he did so.

The twins had breakfast in silence, still waking up, throwing glances at each other that they understood like words.

“This is crazy”.

“I mean, it’s Gojo we’re talking about. Of course it’s crazy”.

Kento snorted softly.

“You sure it’s a good idea? You can handle it, Sue?”.

The girl looked away, rolling her eyes in the process, and got up to prepare a cup of chocolate milk, ignoring her brother’s worried glances.

But Kento couldn’t ignore his worry. His sister and himself had been through enough, and the past months had been very rough on Suki. He didn’t want her to put any more pressure on herself, with all the missions they were giving her.

He couldn’t ask her again before Suki had already left the room, opening the door of her bedroom again, and walking to open the blinds slightly.

The sun filled the room with small squares of light, just enough to allow the blonde to locate everything around her.

She crouched next to the bed, gently shaking the kid, calling him softly as he started to open his eyes, covered by his messy raven hair.

“Good morning, Fushiguro… Breakfast is ready, and I’ll run you a bath. We’ll meet up Gojo later”.

The kid rubbed his eyes as he sat up, looking at his surroundings in an initial post-sleep confusion, but soon nodding at her words.

Suki noticed he had one of her old plushies next to him, a fluffy panda whose left ear had been lost to a dog in the park, but she didn’t say anything, simply getting up again and fully opening blinds and windows this time.

She made the bed as the kid left, and closed the door to put on some clothes. She then did her make up (there’s no reason why a strong sorcerer shouldn’t look good, if death is always around the corner anyways), and braided her hair, before heading to the bathroom to prepare the bath for the kid, and brush her teeth.

It wasn’t that different from her usual morning routine, she realised, and it hadn’t even been that much work to get Megumi to get up. He maybe wasn’t the sweetest kid, but he was as well behaved as one could expect.

And, being honest with herself, as he walked in the bathroom with sleepy eyes, and chocolate milk all over his face, Suki didn’t even mind having him around that much.

She put some towels in the towel warmer, left the kid’s clothes in the sink, and exited the bathroom to pick up her car keys, and her phone from the couch, eyes opening wide at her new lockscreen: a selfie Gojo had taken with her sleeping figure that night.

She unlocked it, searching for his name on her contact list, while Kento washed the dishes in the kitchen, the sound of the water making the girl walk to the balcony.

“Oh good morning, Susu”, Satoru greeted her through the phone.

“Morning, Gojo. Fushiguro is taking a bath, once he’s finished and ready we’ll go… What’s all this about? You didn’t stay for breakfast”.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. Needed to do something first thing in the morning”, he simply said, avoiding the main question, “I’ll send you an address, yeah? And we’ll meet there, let's say… in an hour?”.

“Mhm, sounds good to me. Want us to bring something? I’m taking the car”.

“Stop to get something sweet for breakfast… It’s very important- no, crucial, to the plan”.

Suki rolled her eyes, but agreed, and she hung up when the bathroom door opened. She chuckled softly at the kid, wet hair falling on his eyes, and put her phone in her back pocket to grab the towel from his hands.

The kid looked up at her through the wet strands, like a cat who’s been caught by the rain, and Suki threw it over his head, drying his hair gently.

“If you don’t dry your hair well, you'll catch a cold, kid. And it will look weird”.

“I don’t care how it looks… Are we going to get the big baby now?”, the boy said, referring to Satoru, and earning a laugh from Kento.

“Yeah, Gojo wants us to go to an address… Here”, the girl explained, showing the kid the message, “We’ll go in my car and-”.

The kid’s face had changed, and Suki stopped talking, confused. He looked away from her and the phone, his energy switching to a weary one.

Just then, the blonde girl looked back at the text message, clicking on the address. It was a primary school.

“Fushiguro… Do you know why Gojo is sending us to a school?”.

“It’s not my school, I was kicked out…”, even his voice was different, “But, uhm-...”

“It’s my sister’s”.

( . . . )

The white haired boy waited outside, back pressed against the wall of the school’s entrance.

Mothers and older sisters were starting to gather around, waiting for their kids and siblings outside, some of their eyes caught by the handsome boy that stood unbothered under the sun, scrolling down his phone.

He looked up, blue eyes shielded by his round sunglasses meeting a pair of brown ones. The girl blushed, looking away immediately, and Satoru smirked as he looked around, looking for Nanami’s car this time.

A black Citroen C3 took the corner, and Satoru waved at it, signaling Nanami to park in front of where he was.

He put his phone in his pocket, followed by his hands, and he started walking towards the car. But then he felt it, Six Eyes sending him a very clear message right there: Nanami was angry. Very angry.

“Gojo Satoru, how could you do this to us?!”, she yelled, followed by the younger Fushiguro.

Gojo opened his eyes in surprise, knowing exactly what she was doing. They wanted to embarrass him.

“I work TWO jobs just to keep us all going, I offered to help you with YOUR mistress’ kid after SHE left YOU, and you don’t even have the guts to tell me… there’s ANOTHER KID?!”.

All the girls that just minutes before eyed him up and down, now looked at him with disgust, and Gojo felt his cheeks grow redder by second.

“Nanami-san has done so much for us, and you still lied to her, you’re gross!”, Megumi added, pulling up his best distressed kid act.

At the entrance of the school, a teacher waited with the few kids that hadn’t left with their horrified parents already. Behind a tall, blonde boy, a small girl with a dark ponytail looked at Megumi with confusion.

Megumi ran to her, the teacher recognising the problematic child as her brother, and didn’t bother asking who the screaming teenagers were. She had heard about the Fushiguro sibling’s parents, so she wasn’t surprised nor doubted that everything the blonde was yelling was true.

It didn’t seem too strange for Tsumiki’s mother to have had an affair and fled, and it was known by everyone at the school that Megumi’s father had been out of the picture for almost a year now.

She did, however, feel bad about that poor girl. She looked truly hurt, and having to take care of a kid like Fushiguro…

“But Suki I-“, Gojo tried to get her to shut up, eyes apologising with urgency.

“Get in the car Satoru, I can’t even- I can’t even look at you right now. Let’s go kids”.

Megumi and his sister were soon sitting in the back of the car, followed by Suki, and lastly by Gojo.

The younger boy looked at Suki through the mirror, and the girl met his eyes, before they crashed into laughs, much to Gojo’s displeasure.

When they calmed down, and Suki apologised to Gojo with the cinnamon rolls she had bought, Megumi explained the situation to his sister. How their father wasn’t going to come back, and neither was their mother.

Tsumiki was very scared at the beginning, for the both of them, but when the pretty blonde senior pulled up at their apartment, and called Megumi by his name, she felt very relieved.

Megumi never let anyone call him by his first name, as he didn’t like it. Only she herself was allowed, as she didn’t really remember her mother or his father being around that much anyways. But if he let that girl do it too, then she was truly trustworthy.

“Megumi, why didn’t you tell me about Tsumiki, hm?”, she asked, and the little girl felt shy under her intimidating eyes.

“I dunno”, he shrugged a little, inexpressive eyes on hers, “I didn’t think I’d stay with you for too long, she’d have been okay with the neighbours until I got ba-”.

Tsumiki gasped when the blonde girl put her hand on Megumi’s head, messing his hair. But to her surprise, her brother didn’t do anything more than sighing and rolling his eyes, starting to walk towards the building, followed by the girl.

She looked at them with big eyes, then up at the white haired boy, who gave her a big smile.

“Did you know Toji?”, the little girl asked him, as they too started walking.

“Mhm. Before he decided to leave forever, he asked me to keep an eye on ‘Gumi. You know, ‘cause he can be kiiiinda problematic sometimes”.

The little girl laughed, nodding shyly, and the boy’s smile grew. At least this one liked him.

They walked to the apartment door, slightly open as Megumi was inside, while Suki stood in front of the door next to it, talking to an old woman.

She bent down, hands pressed together, as she thanked the lady who looked at her with a sweet, warm smile.

“Thank you so much for taking care of them these past months, Hosho-san. My husband and I will take on from here... We found out a few days ago about what happened to Fushiguro-san and his wife… and we came all the way from Kioto just yesterday. I hope they haven’t been too much work, and my husband is more than willing to help with any economic matter that they can have caused to your family”.

Gojo smirked at her words. Suki’s ability to create stories to get them out of trouble had been saving their asses for years now, and it never stopped amazing him. Plus, pretending that Fushiguro senior was a family friend, and they were a young marriage taking the kids, was the perfect story to keep away anyone suspicious of them.

“Oh, no, no, dear. They’re wonderful, please don’t worry about anything. It’s more than enough to know that someone will be taking proper care of them from now on”.

Suki nodded and gave the old woman a smile, before Gojo wrapped his arm around her, chin resting on top of her head.

“Megumi is already picking up his things, baby. Why don’t you go help him and Tsumiki while I thank Hosho-san here?”.

He also gave the lady a smile, a charming, sweet one, and the woman blushed softly with a chuckle. Suki smiled, rolling her eyes as she walked in, leaving the white haired boy to continue adding to their story so she could help the kids without any other neighbour coming around.

Tsumiki was sitting in the living room, a yellow bag with white flowers already prepared on the floor. It didn’t take too much for anyone to realise Megumi had prepared it for her, as he walked in first and was still starting his.

The blonde girl sighed softly, sitting on the couch next to the little girl, who put her hands on her own lap, holding them together to hide the way they were slightly shaking.

Suki wasn’t sure about Megumi’s plan, using his first name so Tsumiki would see her as someone of trust, but at least they had found her.

“Tsumiki-”.

“Thank you for taking us in, Nanami-san!”, the little girl almost yelled, head down.

Nanami looked at her with soft eyes, a little smile plastered on her face as she nodded.

“Would you like me to braid your hair like mine, while we wait? I think it’d look good on you, Tsumiki”.

Her hair was almost matted, knots making it impossible to even try to brush it. The little girl sobbed when the scissors started snapping, balls of blonde hair falling at her feet.

The also young boy sighed deeply as he continued to cut his sister's hair, both of them eight by the time.

“It’ll grow again, healthier”.

“I look like a boy!”, the little girl sobbed harder.

Her brother sighed, holding her in his arms, and shook his head.

“When it grows again, I’ll learn how to braid it okay? I promise. You won’t need mom to do it. I will do it”.

The little girl sniffed softly, rubbing her eyes with her little shaky hands, but nodded.

“Thank you, Ken”.

The little girl looked up at her with bright eyes, nodding her head fast and excitedly, and Suki signaled her to go get a hair brush and a ribbon, which the little girl ran to do.

Her hair was lighter than Megumi’s, not exactly black, but a dark shade of brown, very straight and shiny. She was too young to have any heat damage, and Suki brushed it carefully, as the younger girl looked at their reflection on the TV while sitting as still as she could.

From Megumi’s bedroom, Gojo stood against the door frame, moving his eyes from the kid to the girls. Suki had managed to calm down the little girl immediately, and she had gotten Megumi to collaborate with her all day.

She had a weird talent he didn’t have. He could make Tsumiki laugh, and could get Megumi to follow him, but he couldn’t get them to relax, to trust like Nanami had in a night and barely an hour.

Satoru opened his mouth to speak, just in time for Suki’s phone to start ringing. On top of the screen, a name popped up: Kitamura Nagisa.

Suki finished tying the ribbon to the little girl’s braid, and just then realised she had forgotten her plans for the day, a wave of anxiety hitting her like a truck.

“Your phone’s ringing, Suk- Oh”, Gojo spoke, watching her sit there, blocked, phone in hand, “What are you doing?”.

The blonde girl simply signaled him to shut up, taking a deep breath before picking up.

“Hey, Nanami”, the boy’s voice was raspy, and Suki sighed softly at it, ears turning red just by the sound, “Are you okay? I sent you like twelve messages, are we still meeting for lunch? I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes now”.

Suki bit her lip, looking at the kids, both of them ready now as Megumi walked out of the room with his bag.

“I- Uh… I am so sorry, Kitamura, I should have called you but something important came up, and I… I forgot completely”.

The boy chuckled softly, Suki’s embarrassment noticeable in her voice.

“No worries, Nanami… Is everything okay? Anything I can help you with?”.

“Hm… actually just… a family friend passed away!”, she spit out, and in front of her, Gojo raised an eyebrow, not understanding why the Suki was so nervous.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Nanami, I had no idea”.

Suki sighed. She didn’t want to lie to Nagisa. But she definitely couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Thank you, it’s just… He had two kids, and he didn’t have any more family… So it was either Kento and I , or my parents taking them in…”, she almost whispered the last part, avoiding Satoru’s confused gaze, “So you know, we kind of had to do it. A friend and I are helping them with their stuff right now”.

All she got for a minute was a hum, and silence, her heart beating faster than ever before inside her ribcage.

“Why don’t we have dinner together then, yes? I’ll bring take out, and I’ll help you get everything ready”.

Gojo frowned at his words. He had heard Nanami and Shoko talk about that boy, Kitamura, before. But he didn’t know the blonde girl and him were close like that, to have secrets that he apparently didn’t know.

It’s not like it angered him, or anything, he’d explain, it just annoyed him that Suki hadn’t told him. Yeah, that was it, and that’s that.

“You don’t mind? Kento will be home…”.

“And so will I! Is it a problem, Kitamura, huh?”, Satoru’s voice rose over Suki’s, getting a death glare from the girl.

“Not a problem at all. Any friend of Nanami is of mine”, the boy replied, and one could feel the smirk in his voice, “See you tonight then, Suki. You too, dude”.

And with that, Nagisa hung up, leaving a cold ambience in the room between Suki and Satoru, that made even the kids shiver.

n/a: i did say slowburn and i intend on keeping my word thank u v much SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG ON UPDATING :( the ending was shit but im SO TIRED forgive me ily <3

taglist: @expectoscamander @tsun444mi @helvegen-s @theworldis-ahead @evans-dejong @crzyinluve

[ryozoro]

Hades Playlist - i.

NOW PLAYING : I n t e r l u d e [J. Cole]

cw; name calling, blood, mentions of murder, major spoilers

“Fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.”

Despite the red-light district thriving through the night, it looked just as beautiful during the early morning. Yn was roaming the streets on her pedal bike for the first time since winter break as she plotted different ways to surprise her big brother at his newly opened bike shop. She had already purchased his favorite breakfast meal from the little café she worked at, and all that she was left to do was see the said man. Getting out of thoughts and returning to reality, she stopped at the side of the traffic light to press the ‘crossing’ button and to text Draken to make sure he was at work before she made the trip.

“hey there pretty girl, ya wanna come ride something more interesting than the little kiddie bike yer on right now?” some bleach blonde junior high kid called out to her, smirking as he man spread and took up most of the space on the park bench. “I know ya hear me pretty girl,” he leaned and rested his elbows onto his knees, “maybe ya want me to come over and beg for yer attention, huh? Want me to come and make ya listen to me?”

She scoffed and waited for the light to signal for her to cross, but its as if the gods wanted to punish her and traffic kept flowing out of her favor. Getting restless, she pocketed her phone and tapped on her bar handles in hopes of the cars to all be generous and let her through; of course, this did not happen and the young fuck boy in training had began to approach her alongside his friend who were hyping him up and recording the event.

“You might be older than me,” he walked up behind her and kicked her bike tire before circling around and leaning against the basket in the front, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I hit girls.” Yn had to refrain from spitting in his face because Draken always said ‘never start anything with others first, let them choose their fate.’ In other words, big bro just didn’t want her to put herself at risk due to minor inconveniences that were presented towards her.

Just as the light switched from a hand to a walking figure, yn politely smiled at the boy in hopes of him getting the hint that she did not wish to engage with him anymore, but – of course – that was just asking too much of him. He turned back and looked at the sign noticing it was their turn to cross, and he surprisingly moved out the way. Yn smiled realizing that her brother did know it best when he said that the ‘dumb young boys will leave you alone after they realize you’re not going to give them the time of day,’ and she moved to pedal across the cross walk with a large smile.

However, big bro’s words are not the golden rule amongst men and the boys did not leave her alone; in fact, they decided to run at her hit the back tire with a bat and caused her to lose control and fall in the middle of the walkway. The drivers were kind enough to wait for her to get up and cross the street with scraped knees and a dirty pull over. She turned back to glare at the boys, but their backs were already facing her as they leisurely walked away laughing. This wasn’t going to ruin her day, after all, she still gets to surprise her brother with her presence and might even have the chance to see his hot amazing friends whom you grew up around. After realizing that the former gang members might all be hanging around her brother’s workplace, she got up with a huge smile and skipped the rest of her way on the crosswalk. Once to the other side, yn hopped back on her bike without checking her bloodied shins and made her way on the quickest route to the shop.

Glancing up at the familiar billboards that danced in sky and looking down at the alleys being populated with street cats and new gen delinquents, she realized she was only a block down from seeing the man who has always put her first and raised her to strive to her fullest potential. Smiling as closed her eyes for just a second - she swears it – to bask in the excitement and next thing she knew, she was on the ground covered in coffee. She could hear faint voices but those were cancelled out by her skin screaming at her to get up and quickly remove any rubble and dirt that had entered. Moving to get up, she took note of blood staining the concrete and became slightly alarmed.

“Oi, you dumb bitch, you should watch where you’re going,” a man’s voice echoed through her head, “you got a drip of blood on my Milano’s.” Trying to get up, yn went to wipe her eyes, but as soon as she lifted her hands, she felt them share the similar sting that her knees and chin felt. “You deaf or something? Ha, lucky for you I’ll take the food in your basket and whatever is in your wallet as an exchange. Pin code for your card must be included, love.” Hearing as she was about to get stripped dry of her hard-earned cash, she shot a glare up at the well-dressed man’s body just to be sent in a more state of terror when she noticed the tattoo that decorated his temple; it was the infamous Bonten symbol.

“I say we just take her to the back alley and make her pretty throat match the rest of her bloody body,” she turned and seen a pinkette with long hair and two scars that sat on each corner of his ?beautiful? mouth. to be completely honest, he would have been very much at the top of her most attractive list if he weren’t just plotting to slice her neck right in front of her; she wondered if he ever heard of the Element of Surprise. “She hasn’t even apologized yet and it’s been at least 45 seconds, that is pretty rude don’t you think, Mochi-kun?”

“It is very rude,” the built man with slicked back blonde hair spoke up, “do you want me to take her in the alleyway?” He squatted down to meet yn at eye level and she didn’t know if it was the fact he was able to stare into her soul with lifeless eyes or the extremely structured shoulders that could break her bones if he had tackled her, but she genuinely felt that she was going to die. “You seem like a worthless kill if I am being honest, and I don’t like claiming meaningless prizes. So, if you want to live,” ‘Mochi-kun’ reached over and gripped her bloodied chin, “or are you going to be good dog and run your pockets?”

She couldn’t believe it; for all her life, death threats have never been directly shot at her as Draken and the others have always been there. Of course, she emptied her pockets as quick as she could and began wiping the man’s Milano’s with her cloth lens wipe.

“Good girl,” the man with the temple tattoo said mockingly, “but I’m gonna need you to put your pretty mouth to work since you don’t know – or rather – you act like you don’t know how to speak.” She felt her eyes began to fill with tears as she looked up from the ground; they mistook it for fear, but yn was just angry she was powerless to them. “Don’t worry, I like older women, so I won’t need your mouth for that,” he laughed loudly in her face, “lick the blood off.” Her glare returned and tears began to spill over her cheeks. “Be a good bitch, and lick my –“

“What are you idiots doing?” a man with a long pink and purple mullet-like hairstyle came from behind her. “Are you guys bullying young kids again? Oh, wait, you’re not a kid.” He stared at you through his multi-colored bangs and tilted his head, “Why are you all bloody like a sewer rat walking through the back alley of feral cats?” he pushed the girl’s forehead back, straining her neck to hold eye contact with him, “you’re not some whore, are you?” He craned his neck back to the man who has been treating her like a dog, giving yn a full view of his Bonten symbol tattooed across the middle of his pretty throat. “Neh, Koko, you do realize that if you want a girl’s attention you can’t just rough her up in hopes that she takes you to bed.” He turns back to yn before sighing, “You’re cute,” for some reason she felt herself swelling with pride, “but you’re not my type,” – well there goes her ego.

“Oh what-fucking-ever,” ‘Koko’ mumbled as he gently pushed her away, “I didn’t want some inexperienced princess anyway, so don’t get your hopes up.” He quickly bent down and took all the cash from her wallet and began to slide out the card, but a baton quickly swatted at his hands.

“Your obsession with money is crazy, but you can’t take hers if you still owe me 45,000 yen.” Yn turned to see a man with pushed back purple and pink hair holding the offending stick. Unlike the other members, his tattoo was in the same place as the mullet man – maybe they took over the organization after her other big brotherly figure, Mikey, left. She drank in his appearance, and although he was thinner than the other members, something about him just screamed ‘stay away;’ but for the first time in her life, yn didn’t want to listen to such obvious red flags. “Oh no, you’re bloodied up like a rat –“

“I have already said that nii-chan,” the mullet head said, “what do you say? Wanna jut get rid of her like Sanzu-san suggested?” The now known younger brother asks. She began to tremble but not out of fear, no, out of a weird feeling at the pits of her stomach that came about as soon as the stranger stumbled onto the scene. “Oi,” the younger brother flicked your chin, reminding your body that it is supposed to be in a state of stinging pain, “staring is rude. What are you – a deer in headlights?”

“Now, now, Ridou,” the man continued to meet yn’s gaze as he motioned for her to take his hand, “where’s the fun in hurting a good little lamb? Especially one who shows that she knows to yield to her Sheppard.” Against her better judgement, yn took his hand and allowed him to help her up. “Look at you go,” he smirked and scanned over her body through hooded lids, “such a strong little girl you are standing on wobbly legs after the big bad wolves tried to tear you down.”

She should feel offended, mocked, and appalled, but she couldn’t – not with the voids he called eyes staring at her. “T-thanks,” she weakly mumbled as she began to gather her bag back together and prop her bike back up, “I know you guys said you needed the pin number, but I can’t give it to you.” She hung her head and balled her fists; she was waiting for someone to hit her but that never came. Looking up she sees the ‘older brother’ standing in front of the brooding ‘Koko’ and the other members just staring around the streets.

“That’s fine, little one,” the older brother said, “we don’t need your card. Koko here will be fine with just the cash. But I will need payment of the sort since I did calm the bully over here, don’t you think?” He smiled at yn, quickly scanning her student ID and then turning back to her face, “You’re 18, yeah?” she nodded, and he smiled lazily, “Good, give me something of yours that is valuable. I want to talk to you again and if I take it, you are going to want to take it back, correct?”

“I – um,” she began to go through the bag and seen that the only things she deemed valuable were her phone and the spare keys to her room in the brothel, “all I have is my k-keys and phone.” She huffed out in hopes that he took mercy and just let her go already; if she kept in his presence any longer, she feared that every piece of knowledge on common sense would fly out of her brain.

“Well, no one wants a pedal bike here and your phone and keys wouldn’t be of use to me,” he spoke in a rather degrading tone, “how about, you give me that pretty little necklace that you’re wearing… hmm, ... oh! Give me your number as well. After all, how are you going to know when I want you to take back your precious gems without being able to plan a proper date?” His smile was too secretive to be comforting, but this was probably the best way to saving her own life.

“Okay,” she replied quickly, “just please, don’t break the necklace…” her hands shook as she unclasped it and placed it into the man’s hands. “That’s a gift from my brother, so I promise you I’ll come and get it whenever you ask.” Yn put her hands on her bar handles before straddling the bike.

“Thank you,” he smiled and put away the baton before fishing out his phone, “put your number in it and call to make sure you’re not fucking with me, yeah?” He tilted his head and softly hummed at the soft sound of her phone vibrating in her bag. “Thank you, yn-chan.”

“No, thank you,” she lightly coughed and waited for him to look back up at her after saving all her contact information. Once he finally looked up, she flinched but proceeded to stare him dead in his lovely irises, “May I have your name… if ya don’t mind that it.”

“Haitani Ran,” the older man laughed and shifted his weight onto his hip, “and I expect you to text me whenever you get the chance.” He turned around and the other members began to follow. For what felt like an eternity, yn finally let out a small breath, well at least until he had turned back around. “Oh!” Haitani-san smiled at her, “Leave it under ‘Ran-senpai’ so your brother and friends don’t get spooked. Don’t want the fun to end before it has barely even started.” With that, he turned back around and waved half-assed before disappearing into the distance.

Yn decided to just to walk the rest of the block because riding the bike has been nothing but bad luck so far. Once at the shop, she sighed and made her way to the back where she knew would be unlocked because no one dared walk up into her big brother’s place of work. Parking her bike, she quickly takes her phone back out with 3 texts from an unknown number.

Unknown: hey little lamb, its yer senpai <3

Unknown: yer probs with yer bro so ill call you later, mm around midnight so stay up

Unknown: text me back soon or I mite accidentally break your pretty necklace and youll have to  owe me a big favor for ignoring me :)

“what the actual fuck,” yn whispered as she quickly began typing away. She didn’t know if she be upset with his back-to-back messages treating her like she was his property, or mad at herself for feeling this little need inside of her that wants to please him. Yes, all of the gang members were extremely hot and DANGEROUS, but something about ‘Ran Senpai’ gave her the cold chills; what made it worse was the urge that she possessed to go against all her morals for him.

Yn: hi! Im sorry,, I was just trying to get to my brother’s shop

Yn: wait,, do you know draken-nii?

She tilted her head and rocked lightly from side to side, waiting for a reply instead of going in and surprising her brother like she initially had planned to do. While she waited, she changed his name to ‘Tani Senpai <3’ with a small smile as she imagined Draken freaking out over the fact that a boy has caught her interest. Of course, she wasn’t romantically interested in the man, but his face isn’t one that she would mind seeing from time to time – at a safe distance that is.

Tani Senpai <3: mhm, some good and bad history

Yn: oh?

Tani Senpai <3: you do know curiosity killed the cat, right little lamb?

Yn: you flirt a lot

Yn: how old are you ?

Tani Senpai <3: 28 years young bb

Yn: youre ten whole years older than me?? You look so,, young.

Tani Senpai <3: I have aged, but trust me, I am rather youthful in different aspects.

Yn: do you by chance,, like memes?

Tani Senpai <3: ofc, especially hornee ones.

Yn: haha.. well I gotta go,

Tani Senpai <3: mhm go ahead baby, remember. Midnight <3

 Yn: aye aye captain.

She felt another vibration as she placed her phone in her backpack, but she was finally able to see and surprise her brother and that is exactly what she planned to do. Quietly pulling the door open, she noted that the music blaring and Draken’s back was to her as he was fixing up what looked like Pah-chin’s old CBX 400F. It was a cute sight if she was being completely honest; her brother rebuilding his old friendships. She seen the other boys’ bikes lined up too: Draken’s Zephyr, Mitsuya’s little Impulse, Kazu-kun’s Rocket, Mikey’s CB250T, and even the late Baji’s Goki.

“Pah-san still has the old thing,” she decided to speak up instead of tackling her brother, “are you guys gonna give it to some younger kids?” right as she finished her sentence, draken whipped his head back and went to cradle yn to his chest. Suddenly, all of the stinging on her skin had vanished and she was giggling while circling her arms around her brother’s waist. “How are you ya wannabe greaser?”

“I’m doing fine you idiot, how are -,” draken lifted his head to get a good look at her, but all his excitement drained as he was met with a sight of dried blood and scraped skin. “Who the fuck did this to you? I’ll kill them right fucking now, what the hell happened yn?”

“DRAKEN,” he stopped and stared at you expecting an answer, “I tired riding my bike down the big hill by the park and this happened, okay? I’m okay.” She stared at him with a soft expression and relaxed once she noticed he slumped in his posture, “I know you said to stop riding down the hill because it’ll bite me in the ass one day, so I guess today was the day.” Yn laughed and draken tried to fight the small smile that was threatening to fall on his lips.

“Go sit on the counter and watch the store for a bit, I’m gonna get the first aid kit in the back and I guess I’ll patch ya up.” With that, he disappeared into the office hall and left yn to be lost in thought. She had never lied to Draken this heavy before. It might not seem like a big deal to others, but she just told her brother she fell down a hill instead of saying that some /Bonten/ men were just threatening her life 20 minutes ago and they treated her like a dog; well, she didn’t feel that bad anymore, considering that he would have gone and wasted his life against men that played dirty. “Get out of your head, I’m back.” Draken teased her before getting an alcohol wipe and wiping the dried blood, “don’t squirm too much, loser. iss’ gonna sting a bit tho, so try to not hit me.”

It went a lot more smooth than she had expected, yeah, the cleansing wipe and ointment burned, but now she was bandaged and able to not worry about even more blood staining her clothes til they go to the brothel.

“Here,” he handed her a spare shirt and some sweats, “I don’t like seeing you all beat up, makes me want to fight the side walk. You know where the bathroom is.” Draken slightly punched her shoulder before heading back to seat near the bike, “once you’re done, we can go meet the boys for breakfast. I bet yer hungry.”

“Yer the best, ya know that,” yn smiled before taking her bag and clothes to the bathroom. “It won’t be long,” she turned before entering the hall, “make sure the cute one is there!”

“Stop trying to fuck my friends,” Draken called out in an irritated tone as she walked away laughing. It was an ongoing joke yn had played on her brother, where she would pretend to have some crush on his friends and it’d just make him twenty times more protective around them; he never knew if she was serious or not so he had to be cautious.

Once in the bathroom, yn quickly changed into the clothes her brother had lent her and stared at herself in the mirror. She laughed when she realized she kind of looked like one of the main characters from her favorite psychological thrillers. Yn took out her phone and decided to message Mana, mitsuya’s younger sister and yn’s best friend from home, with a picture of her bandaged state and the caption, ‘take out my ankles next time, daddy <3.’ It honestly surprised her to get a reply that fast as Mana was always one to sleep until noon. She didn’t know what scared her more, the fact she sent it the wrong person, or the fact the person knew exactly what she was talking about.

Tani Senpai <3: you look hot like that

Tani Senpai <3: like being called daddy, but in this context arent I supposed to call you mommy or something LMAO

Tani Senpai <3: I can break your ankles with my baton

Tani Senpai <3: make you my little housewife and call you ‘Bum.’

Tani Senpai <3: don’t worry, I won’t turn into ashes ;) <3

“Yn,” Draken called out, “you okay in there?”

“Don’t worry about it nii-Chan,” she giggled in hopes of masking her terror, “just bumped into a wound. I’ll be out soon.”

“Okay,” draken slipped a pad and a tampon under the door, “don’t know if you might want these -,”

“LEAVE YOU IDIOT,” yn genuinely laughed and heard draken’s heavy chuckles through the door, “thank you though, I’ll be out soon.”

“I’ll be outside on the bike, bubs.”

After hearing draken’s foot steps vanish, she quickly began typing.

Yn: that wasn’t meant for you -

Tani Senpai <3: shame, I love killing stalking

Yn: wait,, really? 👀

Tani Senpai <3: mhm,, we’ll talk about it later tonite ‘bum ;)

Yn: .. deal :)

Despite every shitty thing that has happened to her since she got back, it felt as if they were supposed to meet; fate as one would call it. She was offering herself to one of the most dangerous men who rule the underworld, and she didn’t even find herself to minding.

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an: hi hello, hope yer all eating well :)

ryozoro©