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all-the-things-2020 · 4 months

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Late Night Talking - Chapter Seven

Summary: Emily goes back to work and Dieter comes to spend the weekend. Chaos ensues.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 6780+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

The first day back on campus was always full of boring staff meetings and, for those of us in the library and textbook room, a daylong parade of teachers with requests for books. It was exhausting but gave us a chance to catch up with everyone. It also meant the Nosy Parkers were out in force, sniffing out the best gossip to spread around campus. Who went where on vacation, who didn’t go anywhere, who got married or engaged, who got pregnant, etc. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before word got around that I was dating someone; I was friends on Facebook with a few of my coworkers, and although I hadn’t posted many clear photos of Dieter or mentioned his name, I had made a few posts referring to “my boyfriend.”

As I settled into a seat in the auditorium for the all staff kickoff meeting, I was simultaneously distracted by my phone buzzing in my pocket and my least favorite coworker, Eileen, latching onto my arm. She was nearing retirement age and every year the rumor went around that she wasn’t coming back in the fall, but every year, there she was.

“How are you, sweetie?,” she asked. “Did you have a good summer?” I could tell that she’d already heard something from the way she smiled so insincerely.

“I’m good. Summer was good,” I replied, digging my phone out. “Excuse me, let me check this.”

As I suspected, it was a text from Dieter

DIETER: Happy 1st day back. Break a leg or whatever you say for luck in a library. Break a spine??

I was surprised he was up so early. He must have set his alarm so he could text me. I smiled to myself and texted back.

ME: Weirdo. Just starting all staff meeting aka most boring two hours of my life. Talk to u later, k?

I put my phone back in my pocket and reluctantly turned to Eileen. Before she could open her mouth, my phone buzzed again and I pulled it back out, mouthing “sorry” at her.

It was a video of a duck with cartoon arms running around a dog.

DIETER: If meeting gets too boring watch this.

He added several smiley face emojis, a dog, a duck, and his favorite, the grinning purple devil. I shook my head.

“Bad news?” Eileen pounced on the slightest whiff of intrigue or gossip.

“No, just a dumb video my boyfriend sent me,” I said without thinking. Oops.

“Boyfriend? Really? Congratulations!” She sounded sincere, but I’d endured enough snide remarks over the years about my single state to know that she was inwardly lamenting the loss of something to pester me about.

“Yeah,” I said off handedly. “We met this summer. Oh, there’s the principal. Meeting’s about to start.” I had never been happier to see Dr. Osuna climb the steps to the stage and make her way behind the beat up old podium that had been used by every principal since the school’s founding over 60 years ago.

As various administrators droned on about vision and aiming for lofty goals and hitting our target numbers, I surreptitiously peeked at my phone, which kept buzzing. Dieter was sending me GIFs and cartoons and video clips about surviving meetings, and more birds with arms, which he’d found out never failed to make me laugh. Finally, I texted him back.

ME: Stop. People are staring at me. Supposed to be paying attention like a good little drone.

Truthfully, no one was paying any attention to me except Eileen. Everyone was either on their own phones, ignoring admin completely, or pretending to be captivated by every word. Some teachers were even taking notes, but they were just trying to score brownie points. Eileen, however, was watching me like a hawk, a small frown on her face. She was the sort of employee who was more concerned about keeping track of everyone else and making sure they weren’t slacking off than in doing her own job. Unfortunately, she was also very efficient and had no problem doing her own job and sticking her nose in everyone else’s business.

The meeting finally ended and I made sure to hop up quickly and head out of the auditorium before Eileen could corner me again. It was only a temporary reprieve, since her office was located inside the library building, but I’d take what I could get.

“Emily!” I stopped on my way out of the auditorium lobby to let the speaker catch up. It was Simone, my favorite English teacher. She was a huge book nerd and was our number one customer in the library. “Girl, slow down!”

“Sorry, friend,” I told her. “I was trying to get away from you-know-who.”

She nodded knowingly. “Gotcha,” she said. When she’d caught up, she steered me out a side door, which meant we’d take the long way to the library. Eileen would make a beeline for her office so she could have a front row seat for the parade of teachers, so there was little chance of running into her as we walked.

Simone gave me a look and nudged my shoulder with hers. “So …,” she said. “Who’s the guy?” She was friends with me on Facebook, and she’d liked several of my posts over the summer. “And why haven’t you posted very many pics? Dude is hot!”

I stopped walking and took a deep breath. Part of me didn’t want to say a thing, and another part (the part that had never really left high school) wanted to squeal and show her the approximately seventeen thousand photos of Dieter on my phone and brag about how I was dating a freaking movie star.

“His name is Dieter,” I said. “We met at a bookstore in L.A. back in June.”

“Dieter? Unusual name.” Simone prompted. “What does he do? Where does he live? Come on, I need details!”

I pulled out my phone. “He’s an actor. And he lives in L.A. so it’s kind of a long distance thing.”

“A real actor or one of those waiters who says he’s an actor but never actually does anything,” she asked, her head tilted to one side. I remembered her talking once about a guy she dated right after college who claimed to be an actor but really waited tables at an Applebee’s in Burbank and tried to slip headshots to studio execs.

“A real actor,” I said proudly. “He hasn’t waited tables in years.” I laughed as I opened up my photo gallery and pulled up the most recent picture. Dieter was leaning toward me across the table at a little bistro we’d had lunch at on Saturday. His hair was messy, as usual when he didn’t have a stylist to tame it, and he was wearing an old t-shirt that had a small hole near the collar. But he was giving me one of those smoldering looks that could so easily turn into a goofy face or lead to a passionate kiss, depending on his mood.

“Whew!” Simone said, fanning herself. “I can see why you want to hide him. Post too many pics like that and everyone will be crawling out the woodwork to try to steal him.”

“What you looking at?” It was Tyler, another of my favorite teachers. He also taught English and I’d gone to happy hour a few times with him and his wife, who was a graphic artist who dreamed of writing a graphic novel someday. She was also a big sci fi nerd, just like Tyler. He was more into Star Wars, while Sofia was more into Star Trek, but they loved both.

Tyler peeked over my shoulder at the phone. “Oh, hey, good taste,” he said. “Sof is crazy about him, too.”

Simone frowned. “How does Sof know Emily’s boyfriend?”

Tyler laughed. “That’s the guy from Cliff Beasts 6,” he said. “Dieter Bravo, right?”

Simone’s eyes got huge and she smacked my arm. “Get out! You couldn’t lead with that?”

Now Tyler’s eyes got wide. “Are you shitting me? You know him?”

I felt my face go hot. “Um, yeah,” I stumbled. “We’ve been dating for about two months.”

Tyler got a goofy grin on his face. “This is the mysterious boyfriend you mentioned on Facebook? Oh, Sof is going to freak out. Wait until I tell her you’re fucking Dieter Bravo.” He froze. “You are fucking him, right? I mean … two months …”

Now I was mortified but also secretly pleased. “Yes, Tyler, not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am sleeping with my boyfriend,” I said after I’d regained a bit of composure..

“Well, you are now officially the coolest person I’ve ever met,” Tyler said. “And you’ve gotten me a couple of degrees closer to George Lucas.” He winked. He’d once told an entire bar that he was only four degrees removed from the creator of Star Wars because he was cousins with someone who worked with a guy who did electrical work on the set for Empire Strikes Back and had taken his orders from a guy who got his orders from an assistant director who reported directly to Lucas. “I mean, you’re sleeping with a guy who did a movie with Darren Eigan, who interned with George.”

Simone rolled her eyes. “You are so weird,” she said. Simone was more into historical fiction, mysteries, and thrillers than sci fi and fantasy, but I knew she had a soft spot in her heart for the Lord of the Rings films and had admitted to watching Game of Thrones, although she hadn’t read the books. “But seriously, Emily, I’m happy for you.” She glanced at her watch. “Oops, department meeting in five minutes. I’d better hit the bathroom. Talk to you later!”

She and Tyler hurried away toward their building and I headed for the library building. Time to face Eileen’s interrogation.

**********************************************************

By the time I got home, I was mentally exhausted. I’d managed to dodge most of Eileen’s questions, giving her only the basics: I was dating a guy who lived in L.A., we’d met over the summer, he worked in the entertainment industry. She’d find out the rest of the details eventually, but I decided to make her work for them.

I spent the day reconfiguring the textbook checkout schedule as teachers changed their minds about which books they needed and which days they wanted to bring their students for checkout. The spreadsheet was morphing into monstrous proportions by the end of the day, but our textbook clerk wasn’t as proficient in Excel as I was (which wasn’t saying much) so the task always ended up in my lap.

I got home, kicked off my shoes, put my hair in a messy ponytail and poured myself a glass of wine. Normally, I waited until Fridays to indulge, but the first day back was always an exception. As I flipped through my mail (all junk, of course) my phone buzzed on the coffee table.

“Hey,” I said as I swiped to answer.

“Hey,” Dieter said. “I take it you survived.” He chuckled. I’d texted him at one point lamenting the brain cells I was losing trying to juggle the schedule.

“Barely,” I said. “Thank goodness for wine.”

I settled back against the couch cushions and told him about my day. It was weird, after being off work all summer, to not only be back in my normal routine, but sharing it with Dieter. So far our relationship had been very relaxed and I was still afraid that it would end up just being a summer fling, once the responsibilities of work and life started to assert themselves.

“I wish I was there to give you a back rub,” he said when I’d finished venting. “Or foot rub, or whatever’s hurting you rub.” He sighed. “I have an interview at two on Friday but I’m heading out as soon as it’s over.” We’d agreed to alternate weekends; this would be the first time he was coming to my place, and I felt a frisson of fear and excitement. I’d been at his house so much over the summer, mostly because there was nothing interesting to do in my neck of the woods, but partly because I was hesitant to bring him to my modest condo.

“Are you sure you don’t mind driving out here on a Friday night?” I asked. “The traffic will be horrible. You could wait and come out Saturday morning.”

“No!,” he said immediately. “I want every minute I can get with you.”

I smiled and sat my wineglass down. I curled up with the phone. “That’s sweet,” I said.

“It’s the truth,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a sexy growl. If we’d been in the same room, this was about the time he’d slide an arm around me and lean in for the first of many, many kisses. “I can’t believe how much I miss you, and I saw you yesterday.” Then he proceeded to tell me exactly how much he missed me, and what he planned to do when he saw me on Friday. Needless to say, I didn’t get around to fixing myself some dinner until much, much later than I’d planned.

****************************************************

Friday finally arrived. I was completely exhausted by the time I got home. I knew it would be another couple of hours before Dieter arrived, and I told myself I was just going to sit down for a few minutes to rest before I cleaned up the place. The first week back was always hectic and I hadn’t done any household chores all week, except for a quick sweep of the kitchen floor after I spilled a box of rice on Wednesday night.

I slipped my shoes off, sat down on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Just five minutes,” I told myself as I closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew, there was a knock at the door and I bolted upright, drool dripping from the corner of my mouth. “Shit, shit, shit,” I mumbled as I lurched to my feet. I hoped my face didn’t have creases on it from being smashed into the couch cushion but I didn’t have time to worry about it as I fumbled with the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

Dieter stood on the doorstep, overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a bottle of something in his hand. He broke into a huge grin and threw his arms around me. “You weren’t kidding about the traffic,” he said into my hair. “Fuck, that was a mess.” He pulled back enough to kiss me on the lips, then hugged me tight again.

“Come in, come in,” I said, when he’d loosened his grip a bit. “Sorry the place is a mess, I fell asleep when I got home.”

He made an “are you kidding?” face and dropped his bag next to the couch. “It looks great,” he said kindly. “And I’m sure you were tired after such a busy week.” He sat the bottle on the coffee table and I could see the label. It was a top shelf brand of tequila. He shrugged as he saw me looking at it. “A friend gave it to me and I thought we could toast your first week back at work. Or get drunk enough that you forget all about it, depending on how bad it was.”

He plopped onto the couch and pulled me down beside him. “This was the longest week ever,” he said as he slid his arms around me and started nuzzling my neck.

“Tell me about it,” I said, playing with his hair. “But at least this year I had you to look forward to at the end of it.” He hummed in agreement and we stopped talking for quite a while.

Eventually, though, my stomach growled. Our lunch break during textbook checkouts was ridiculously early so we could deal with the hordes of students who stopped by on their lunch break to pick up books they’d forgotten to get earlier in the week.

“Okay,” Dieter said. “The stomach has spoken. What shall we have for dinner? Any good restaurants around here that deliver?”

Now I was really embarrassed. “Not really,” I admitted. “Mostly fast food and a few chain restaurants out by the mall. Um, there’s a nice deli near the grocery store I go to, but I think they might be closed already.” I glanced at the clock on my wall and sure enough, it was well after six o’clock.

“I did see an In-n-Out from the freeway a few exits back,” Dieter said hesitantly. I had already teased him at least once about his seeming addiction to Double Doubles and animal style fries.

“There’s one about five minutes from here, actually,” I said. “That’s one decent thing around here. Come on.” I stood up, adjusted my disheveled blouse and held out my hand. I grabbed my purse, dug out my keys and led Dieter outside to my car.

Ten minutes later, we were in line at the drive through at my local In-n-Out. As usual, it was packed, with both order lanes practically out of the parking lot and threatening to spill onto the street. Still, it had a much bigger lot than the one near Dieter’s house and no cars were actually blocking traffic.

I pulled into the lane that went on the left hand side of the building, since I had a passenger. It was usually a bit shorter than the other one, since anyone driving alone had to use the other lane. Still, there were several cars ahead of us as the order taker bounced back and forth between both lanes, tapping away at his tablet.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Double Double and animal style fries, right?”

Dieter arched an eyebrow at me. “Actually, no,” he said primly. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

When the order taker got to us, he came up on Dieter’s side. “Double Double animal style,” Dieter said. “Cheeseburger, grilled onions. Two orders of fries.” He turned to me smugly. “What do you want to drink, babe?”

“Iced tea,” I said.

He shook his head. “Regular iced tea and a chocolate shake,” he said, completing our order. After the order taker read it back, I put the window back up and poked Dieter in the side.

“I knew it,” I said.

“What?,” he said innocently. “You said a Double Double and animal style fries. I ordered regular fries and an animal style burger. That’s totally different.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head. “Still.”

He shrugged. “They have like two things on the menu, there’s not much room for variation.”

He insisted on paying at the window, much to the delight of the girl working the register, who clearly recognized him and giggled a little when he handed her a twenty. She very carefully placed his change in his hand, letting her fingers linger just a bit too long.

“Stop flirting,” I stage-whispered at him while we were waiting for the food to come up.

“I’m not flirting,” he said. “I’m just being polite. She’s the one who's flirting.”

I shook my head. “You just want extra ketchup packets,” I said. “You’re such an In-n-Out whore.”

“I admit it,” he said proudly. Just then, the window opened back up and the girl handed out our drinks, followed by an iconic white bag.

“Have a great evening!,” she said.

“Thank you, you too!” Dieter said. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he’d winked at her because she giggled again.

I smacked his arm as I pulled away. “Behave yourself,” I said, “or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

He was busy peering into the bag. “Ha, it was worth it. She gave us ten ketchups.” He pulled out a few fries and shoved them in his mouth. He turned to me with them hanging from his lips. “Wan’ som’?,” he mumbled.

“Of course,” I said. I opened my mouth and he carefully placed a couple of fries between my lips. “Oh, yeah, that’s the ticket,” I moaned as the crispy potatoes hit my tongue. I was a bit of an In-n-Out whore myself.

**********************************************

We ate at my dining table, leaving behind a mess of burger wrappers, crumpled napkins and empty ketchup packets. I scooped it all up into the bag and shoved it into my trash can, which was already full and needed to be taken out to the garbage bin, but I was too tired to do it that night. I just pushed it down enough for the lid to close and walked away. I’d deal with it in the morning.

We retired to the couch, where Dieter started scrolling through the cable guide. “Um, is this all the channels you get?,” he asked. When I nodded, he gave me a scandalized look. “No HBO? No Netflix?”

“No, just basic cable,” I said, taking the remote away from him. “I don’t watch a whole lot of TV during the week and if I want movies, I have some DVDs.” I waved the remote vaguely at the cabinet next to the TV stand. Dieter got up and opened the door, staring into it like it was a fridge and he was looking for a snack. Finally, he turned back to me.

“Your selection of films leaves much to be desired,” he said solemnly.

I’d figured as much. He had an extensive DVD collection as well as several streaming subscriptions. My meager collection of favorite rom-coms and musicals, with a sprinkling of sci fi and fantasy (I had the original Star Wars trilogy and the Lord of the Rings extended editions) was severely lacking in comparison.

“Sorry,” I said. “Next time you come over, bring some DVDs.” He sat back down next to me and took the remote back. He scrolled through the channel guide again, finally settling on an obscure film noir on one of the classic movie channels. I snuggled up against his side, only half paying attention to the film. I was still tired, despite my nap, and had a full stomach. My eyes slowly drifted shut.

I woke up to the sound of Dieter’s soft laughter. “You were snoring,” he said quietly when I looked up at him. “Maybe we should go to bed.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, yawning. “I’m not much fun right now, am I?”

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’ve got the whole weekend.” He hugged me close and kissed the top of my head.

“You can stay up and watch TV if you want,” I said. It was barely eight thirty and I knew he was used to going to bed much later than that.

“Nah,” he said, clicking the television off. “Not much on anyway.” He smirked and I swatted at him.

“Jerk,” I said. “Making fun of my cable selection. Not all of us have Hollywood money to finance our movie obsession.” I tempered my words with a kiss pressed against the grey spot in his patchy beard.

I got up and headed for the bedroom before he could respond. I grabbed my nightshirt from the dresser and went into the bathroom to change. When I came out, Dieter was already in the bedroom, getting undressed. Unlike me, he had no qualms about removing his clothes in front of me. I busied myself turning down the bed, which I’d made up with fresh sheets that morning, even though it had made me ten minutes late for work. Dieter had a lovely, comfortable king size bed, while mine was a serviceable full size, big enough for two people, but just barely.

“Ahh,” he said as he slid under the covers clad only in a clean pair of boxers. “Nothing better than fresh sheets, am I right?”

I slipped in beside him and turned off the bedside lamp. “Especially when you’ve just shaved your legs,” I said.

“Well, I’ll take your word for that,” he said with a laugh. He pulled me close and slid one foot up and down my calf. “But it does feel nice to me.” His hand began to trace patterns on my thigh, creeping slowly up toward my panties. His other hand cupped the back of my head and he began to kiss me gently but urgently.

After a few minutes, he stopped. “You’re not really into it this evening are you?,” he asked. It was true; I was not very enthusiastic in my responses but I was willing to keep going for his sake.

“No, it’s okay,” I said. I ran my hand through his hair and pulled his face close, kissing him deeply.

“No, it’s not,” he said when I pulled back. “You’re tired. We can just go to sleep.”

“I told you to just wait and come in the morning,” I said, feeling miserable. “You drove all that way in horrible traffic for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” he said. “We’ve had several hours together already. And I got In-n-Out. I think that’s worth the drive.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ve got the whole weekend to fool around. Don’t feel bad. I’d never want you to just go through the motions because you feel like you owe me.” He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “Just relax and get some rest, okay?”

I nodded against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. “Okay,” I said. “But I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night.”

“You’d better,” he teased, his hand sliding down to gently cup my ass. It was still there when I fell asleep a few minutes later. Maybe sharing a full sized bed instead of a king wasn’t so bad after all.

***********************************************

I woke up slightly disoriented. For one thing, it was nearly nine thirty, and the sunlight was streaming through a gap in the curtains, hitting me right in the eye. For another, there was something heavy squashing me into the mattress.

I squirmed out from underneath Dieter, who was face down, sprawled across three quarters of the bed, and snoring softly. “Whatsit,” he muttered as I slipped out from under the sheets.

”Morning,” I replied. “Gotta pee.”

“What time’s it?,” he sighed.

“Nine twenty six.”

”Shit. Gotta get up then.” Dieter had an unspoken rule. Despite his love of sleeping in, he had to be up by nine forty five or the day was shot. Even if he’d been out until three the night before, if he wasn’t up and dressed (approximately) before ten am he felt like a failure.

”You’ve got a few minutes,” I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I’ll run to Starbucks and get you some coffee as soon as I get dressed. Breakfast, too.”

I didn’t drink much coffee and so didn’t own a coffee maker. Fortunately, like most places in the free world, there was a Starbucks roughly every three blocks even out here in the IE, and I knew of at least five within a ten minute drive of my house. One was even close enough to walk to, except Dieter was in no position to walk any further than the bathroom without a caffeine infusion.

Dieter mumbled something that could have been “thank you” or possibly “fuck you” — it was hard to tell with his morning incoherence. Whether he was thanking me for braving the world or cursing me for not owning an espresso machine was a toss of the coin. Either way, he’d forget all about it by the time I got back.

I threw on some shorts and a tank top. August was brutal and with the sun already up, I knew it would be at least 80 degrees outside, if not hotter. “You want hot or iced?” I asked, poking my head into the bedroom before I left.

Dieter made a vague waving motion with his hand. “I need more than that,” I said.

“Hot,” Dieter said through the pillow. “No, wait.” He rolled halfway over. “ S’August, right? Cold.”

By the time I’d driven to Starbucks, ordered his four shots of espresso over ice, my iced tea and two breakfast sandwiches, and returned home, Dieter had managed to put on a t-shirt and stagger out to the couch. His hair stood up in all directions and his eyes were barely open, but at least he was sitting up.

”Give,” he said, reaching out for the coffee. He’d downed a third of it by the time I handed him his sandwich. “Thank you,” he said. “The elixir of life.”

It was strange to be sitting on my couch, in my living room, with Dieter beside me. Saturday mornings were normally my alone time. After a long week at work, they were my quiet bubble of peace, before I started running errands and doing chores I hadn’t had time for during the week. My routine was completely shattered and I didn’t know what to do.

”Um,” I said, after I’d eaten about half my sandwich. “So, what do you want to do today? I usually do my shopping and stuff on Saturdays, but I can put it off until after you leave tomorrow. I don’t want to bore you.”

Dieter took a long sip of coffee. “Whatever,” he said, which wasn’t helpful at all. “It’s gonna be hot, so maybe we could stay in? Watch a movie? Fool around?” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, which would have been hot if his hair hadn’t been doing the Alfalfa thing.

”Netflix and chill, except without the Netflix,” I mused. “Sounds good to me.” I ran my hand over his head. “But you need to at least brush your hair first. Kind of hard to get turned on when you look like a giant toddler.”

”This giant toddler is going to rock your world,” he growled. When I didn’t respond, his face fell. “Too weird?”

”Extremely weird,” I replied. “Even for you, Deet. Please cross ‘giant toddler’ off the list of fantasies you have in your head.”

”Done,” he said.

“And brush your teeth before you kiss me, Coffee Breath.”

He groaned and collapsed against the cushions. “Too many rules! Comb your hair, brush your teeth … I thought you were fun.”

“I am fun. I’m also a grown-ass person and I have minimum standards of hygiene.”

*************************************************

Sex with Dieter was … interesting. He was vastly more experienced than I was — I suspect he’d been with more men than I had — but he was the king of consent. He asked permission before doing anything, even if we’d done it before. And he was surprisingly polite. “Oops, sorry,” was more frequently said in his bed than any other phrase.

“I’m not a porcelain vase,” I told him when he apologized for gripping me a little too tight. “I won’t break.”

”But I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “I never ever want to hurt you.”

”Believe me, if you hurt me, you’ll know,” I assured him. “I won’t hesitate to scream.”

He arched his brow. “The only thing I want you screaming is my name.” He burrowed his face into my throat and peppered me with kisses.

Then the smoke detector peeped.

”What the fuck?” Dieter’s head popped up.

I sighed. “Smoke alarm. It wants its battery changed.” I had a running feud with the unit. I invariably decided its battery was too old in the middle of the night, and because it was located about a foot away from the bed, that meant I had to drag out my step stool in order to access it. The step stool that lived in the closet next to the kitchen.

I slid out of bed, grabbing my robe off the floor. “I’ll be right back,” I said. “There’s a new battery in the drawer of the nightstand. I’m going to get the step stool.”

”I might be able to reach it …” Dieter was saying as I left the bedroom. He was tall but he wasn’t tall enough to reach the alarm without assistance, so I continued toward the kitchen, rooted around in the closet and pulled out the step stool.

I returned to the bedroom just in time to see a naked Dieter teetering on the edge of the bed, his fingertips almost reaching the smoke alarm. “Be careful!” I cried.

”I’m fine,” he said. “Just need to get a little bit closer …” His foot inched toward the edge of the mattress and it all happened in slow motion. The mattress gave way, he lost his balance and fell, hitting the nightstand on the way down. The lamp fell with him and its glass base shattered. Then Dieter landed on top of it.

”Shit!,” he yelled, as time returned to normal speed. “My ass!” A shard of glass was embedded in the muscle of his right butt cheek.

“Don’t panic,” I said, my heart racing. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was talking to him or myself. “It doesn’t look too bad …”

Dieter pulled the glass out of his flesh and it started to bleed. A lot. “It hurts, Em. Oh, shit, it hurts.”

I grabbed the first thing I could find — his dirty t shirt — and pressed it firmly against his butt to stop the bleeding. “I think … I think we need to go to the emergency room,” I said. “It might need stitches.”

”No way,” he said through gritted teeth. “I am not going to the ER. Last thing I need is word getting out that Dieter Bravo went to the hospital because he had something stuck in his ass.”

”You’re bleeding, Deet,” I said. “And that gash is pretty deep.” I peeked under the wadded up t shirt. “I don’t think it’ll close up without stitches.”

”Shit, shit, shit,” he said. “Okay, but I’m using a fake name.”

”Your insurance card has your real name on it,” I reminded him, as I helped him off the floor. He grimaced in pain as he sat gingerly on the bed. “Let’s get some clothes on you and I’ll take you to the hospital.”

The ER was packed because it was a Saturday night. I tried to explain to the nurse at the desk that Dieter was bleeding, in pain, and didn’t want to be recognized, but he simply shrugged and said, “We have to triage everyone based on the severity of their injury. We’ll get to him as fast as we can.”

Dieter was whisked into a back room for vitals and then sent back out to the waiting room with me. “My butt hurts,” he whispered in my ear as he sat carefully in the chair next to me.

“Duh,” I replied. “Try not to think about it.” I looked around the room. There were several people with bloody rags and bandages pressed to various bits of their anatomy, but Dieter seemed to be the only one with an injury to his bottom, except possibly the guy who kept running urgently to the restroom.

”It’s throbbing,” he said, pulling his ball cap further down onto his forehead. He was also wearing sunglasses, which only made him stand out further considering it was after midnight.

”I can’t kiss it and make it better,” I told him. “I wish I could.”

He snorted. “You just admitted you want to kiss my ass,” he said. At least his sense of humor was still intact.

“Who doesn’t?” I teased back. “You’re Dieter fucking Bravo.”

Fortunately, no one recognized him (or at least, no one acted on it if they did) and we only had to wait about forty minutes before a nurse called him into the back.

”Can she come with?,” he asked.

”Of course,” the nurse said. “Right this way.”

We were led to a curtained off bed tucked in a corner of a busy room. People were moaning and cursing and crying, some tucked behind curtains, others slumped in wheelchairs. Dieter winced. “I hate hospitals,” he whispered.

”So do I.” I’d spent far too much time in them when my parents were ill, and the memories were always lurking just beneath the surface. I focused on Dieter and willed my stomach to unclench.

A doctor breezed in and quickly examined Dieter. “Ooh, nasty laceration there,” he said. “But we’ll get it cleaned up and stitched in no time. It should heal up easily. You might have a scar but who’s going to see it?”

”She will,” Dieter said, nodding toward me. “And maybe the whole world if I have to do a nude scene.”

The doctor tilted his head and frowned, then it hit him. “Oh, you’re that Mr. Bravo. Wow. Wouldn’t have expected to see you around here.”

”Girlfriend,” Dieter said, wincing as the doctor dabbed at the wound with antiseptic. “Lives. Near. Here.”

“And it says you fell on a broken lamp?”

Dieter groaned, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t because of his injury. This doctor was going to have a great story to share with his friends and colleagues — and possibly the gossip websites.

”Look, I was trying to change the battery in a smoke alarm. I fell off the bed, broke the lamp, landed on it. Please, don’t spread it around. I feel like an idiot.” Dieter gave the doctor his best puppy dog eyes.

”I’ve seen weirder stuff,” the doctor said, preparing a hypodermic needle of local anesthetic. He jabbed it into Dieter’s butt. “I could tell you stories … but that would be unethical. And I won’t tell yours, either.” He patted Dieter’s rump. “Give that a moment to kick in and I’ll start stitching.”

I held Dieter’s hand as he laid on the bed, grunting now and then as the sutures tugged at his skin. “This is humiliating,” he muttered.

“It’s character building,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You’ll be a better man after this.”

He squinted at me. “How could I possibly be better than I am right now?”

”Maybe the doctor can trim your ego while he’s at it,” I shot back.

”I hate you,” Dieter said.

“No, you don’t,” I said. “You’re just in pain. A pain in the butt.”

”Literally,” he said, wincing as the doctor tied off the last stitch.

”There you go,” the doctor said. “The local will wear off in a bit, but we’ll get you some pain killers so you’ll be more comfortable.”

Dieter bit at his lower lip and shot me a look.

“Um, maybe we can just do something over the counter?” I asked.

“I’ve been in rehab,” Dieter blurted out. “I don’t want narcotics if I don’t have to.”

The doctor nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll give you a shot of toradol and you can use Motrin or Tylenol once that wears off. And stop by the pharmacy to get one of those donut pillows. Then you can sit without putting direct pressure on the wound. You’ll be fine in a few days, a week at most. Check in with your primary care physician as soon as you can, and make an appointment to get the stitches removed in about ten days.”

**************************************

By the time we got home from the hospital, it was close to 2 am. I helped Dieter out of the car and back to the bedroom. “Sorry about all this,” he said as he got undressed.

”It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, but this hasn’t turned out to be the romantic weekend we thought it would be.”

“It’s okay,” I repeated, not sure what else to say. The weekend had turned into a bit of a shit show, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just bad luck. I got him into bed and then fetched a dustpan and broom to sweep up the shards of broken lamp that still littered the floor. Thank goodness I didn’t have carpeting, or it would have taken me much longer to clean up.

Dieter was dozing off by the time I changed back into my night shirt and crawled in beside him. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said sleepily.

”Of course,” I said, snuggling against him. He was lying on his left side, facing me. His breath was warm on my face. “What did you expect me to do, dump you off at the ER?” I was teasing, but he was serious.

”No, I mean it,” he said. “Thanks for not complaining about having to drive me there, being up late, cleaning up the mess … I really appreciate it.” He kissed my nose and then pressed his forehead against mine. “It’s nice.”

I knew a little bit about his past. I figured this had something to do with his mother. He’d alluded to her being a bit aloof. She wasn’t a very nurturing mother, from what I’d gathered. I could imagine her complaining about having to drive her son to the hospital.

”You’re welcome,” I said. “Now get some rest. Your body needs to heal.”

”I broke my butt,” he said, laughing gently. “My butt needs to heal.”

”Poor broke-butt man,” I said. “Go to sleep.”

”Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, nuzzling against my neck.

As he fell asleep, the thought came into my head like a bolt of lightning. I love him. I ran my fingers through his hair, relishing the feel of his silky locks against my skin. I love this man. I wondered if he loved me, too.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fluff #late night talking

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that-sokovian-bastard · 2 years

Text

Alone Together - Loki x Reader

Words: 1331 Pairing: Loki x Reader Warnings: Mentions death (not graphic), mutual pining but they don't know it Summary: Slightly based on Alone Together from The Unofficial Bridgerton Musical, you are attending a charity event for New Asgard following the Blip. You try your hardest not to see Loki, but things don't work out that way. Author's Note: I say slightly based on because it's mainly the location being a museam and one line from the song at the end of the fic. Also, this takes place just a few months Post-Endgame, but Loki did not die to Thanos and was not Blipped. And Thor didn't go with the Guardians. You also have the power of teleportation.

Loki / Full Masterlist

---

You were used to parties. Having been friends with Tony for a long time before the Avengers even formed, you've seen all types of parties he would throw. But now, after Thanos was defeated, the parties definitely lessened.

The invitation came only a few weeks ago from New Asgard: they were hosting a charity event to finish renovations to the school that ended up being more costly than they expected. Thor and Valkyrie invited many Avengers, and while some of your friends were going, you still hadn't decided.

And you needed to decide quickly because if you were going to go, you needed to be there soon. Thank god you can teleport, because if you couldn't, then you would have had to decide hours ago. The event starts in thirty minutes.

Finally, you huffed at yourself and got over it: you were going. Quickly changing into something more suitable for a high-society charity event at a museum in Norway, you wondered how you even classified as high-society. Was it just because you're the Avenger watching over the Avengers Compound and can donate some Avengers money? Or was it because you attended so many Tony Stark events? Or just the fact that you're good friends with Thor and nearly had a fling with Loki?

Whatever it was, you were running out of time and needed to stop overthinking everything. In the end, it didn't matter why you were invited, just that you were and that you needed to get there soon. So once you finished getting ready, you got into the right state of mind and prepared yourself to teleport across the world.

It was always risky traveling that far, and you let out a sigh of relief when you saw the museum in front of you. When you collected yourself, you noticed there was quite a large crowd entering the museum, and you followed. You thought you'd be able to see Thor and Valkyrie, make a quick pledge on behalf of the Avengers, and leave before even running into Loki. It would be easiest and less painful that way.

But it didn't work out for you like that. You greeted Thor and had trouble finding Valkyrie, and as you kept going from room to room to find her, you found a room you were sure was supposed to be blocked off.

It was empty and dimly lit, but you were a bit relieved that you found this spot. The crowd had been overwhelming, and it would be nice to have a minute to breathe before heading back out to find Valkyrie and make your pledge.

As you breathed slowly with your back against the door and your eyes shut, a voice distracted you. "I don't think we're meant to be in here," You heard and sucked in a breath when you realized whose voice it was. "The house lights are not on, and it's empty; well, save for us," He continued. "But the door was unlocked, so can they really fault us?"

You took one more deep breath before opening your eyes. You saw him standing in the middle of the room admiring the large painting. He wasn't looking at you, just talking. Clearly, it was directed toward you because you are the only one here. "I don't think they can," You said, trying to answer his question.

Now, he turned his head to you, and there was a small smile on his face. "It's been a while," He said.

"Good to see you, Loki," You nodded and stepped away from the door. You weren't near him at all, but you weren't pressed up against the door gasping for air anymore. "Shouldn't you be out mingling to get donations?"

"I have been," He said, turning his head to look back at the painting. "I thought I deserved a break from begging and found this room. Come look at this painting."

Slowly, you walked to the center of the room and stood next to Loki, only eyeing him for a moment. "I can't seem to make much sense of it, can you?" He asked.

You stared at the large painting, too, cocking your head ever-so-slightly. It was some kind of abstract painting with dull colors, and it really didn't make much sense to you, either. "No, but I think that may be the point," You said. "I'm sorry I haven't come to visit after the Blip, I-"

"I know. You've been busy, leading the Avengers and all," He said. You two had yet to make eye contact, and you still weren't looking at each other. "How is that going?"

You shook your head slightly. "How's what going? The fact that after the fight with Thanos, we lost so many of the big players, and now there's barely any team at all? Or the fact that I sit around an empty base all day making calls with a raccoon?"

"I do wish I could visit more, but we," He stopped, not wanting to make an excuse.

"I know. You've been busy, building New Asgard and all," You finished, matching his tone from only a minute before. "I've missed you, though."

The five years between the fights with Thanos was certainly an interesting time. And while you wished you didn't lose half of your friends to the Blip, you do value the relationships that were made stronger then, especially with Loki. He visited the Avengers Compound often and helped you with whatever you needed, even if it was just a shoulder to cry on. And if the Blip lasted any longer, you were sure you two would have gotten together.

But then the team brought everyone back and defeated Thanos. You lost some of your closest friends and were now the highest rank in what was left of the Avengers. Loki returned to New Asgard, and you haven't seen each other in months.

Standing next to you, Loki was thinking about all the things he could have done — what he should have done. He knew now he should be in the main room conversing with as many people as possible to raise the money that New Asgard needs, but he didn't want to leave. You were here, something that he's been wishing for since the Blip ended. He didn't want to lose this moment with you; he just wanted to stay here forever.

"I've missed you, too," Loki said. Though it felt like hours passed between your statements, it was only a few seconds. For the first time that night, he said your name, and your head darted to look at him, only to realize he was already looking at you. You stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before he spoke again. "I was thinking-"

His thought was interrupted by the door creaking open loudly, making both of you direct your attention to it. "There you are, brother! I have someone looking to speak with you," Thor smiled.

"I will be out in a moment," Loki said. Thor nodded and shut the door.

Loki dared to try again. "I-"

"We should go," You cut him off and started to walk to the door.

"Right," He agreed and followed, cursing in his mind that he would never have the chance to ask you his question again.

Maybe he should just man up and visit the Avengers Compound and ask you out on a real date the following day. But he didn't know if he had the confidence to do it, especially after all the time has passed and so many things had changed.

Loki didn't know how much you wished he would do exactly that. That night after the charity event, he sat at his desk surrounded by hundreds of crumpled, half-written letters to you. He looked down at the sheet in front of him and muttered what he had written.

I wish you were mine.

But he crumpled up that letter, too, threw it in the bin, and went to bed.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagines #x reader #avengers #marvel #avengers imagines #marvel imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #avengers x reader

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clickerflight · 8 months

Note

do you have anything like a character info or picrews for your adventurers story? since there seems to be a bunch of lore outside of what you’ve posted so far :)

i already thought the whump week story was interesting so i’m definitely going to have a look at what you’re writing about them this time !

— honey <3

Of course!

This story is one I started developing when I was 14 and it has grown with me. The whole worldbuilding and everything is so complicated it takes literal hours to explain it.

So, the general idea is that in the entire universe there are thousands of galaxies and plenty of them have some inhabited planets here and there. People can travel to other planets, but most of them don’t get involved in space travel. Most people instead use the complicated art of portology (this is mentioned in the story and I could sit an explain portology by itself for an hour)

Anyways. In the beginning there were five base races. One of these were the Telari, the first dragons. They were meant to be the protectors of the universe (protecting planets, helping end wars, guarding ambassadors, stopping apocalypses etc) and they did a good job until about 1000 years ago when they vanished. Most people believe some malevolent force set a trap to capture them, leaving the universe vulnerable.

So people stepped forward and created an organization called the Kahtir (this generally translates to memorium) and now they perform the jobs that the dragons left behind.

This whole story/thought project/daydream fodder thing is named The Adventurers because this story focuses on a team called that. Explaining how they all met is another hour of exposition but they became Teliar, agents of the Kahtir. They’re specifically a resource team which means they’re sent into most of the really fun jobs. The big magical catastrophes and whatnot.

Got distracted giving context. This story was built this way so that I could make my own worlds, but also include worlds from books and movies and such (this also has an in universe explanation but I won’t get into it now) so in the story of you see references to things like Star Wars and whatnot, that’s why.

And on to the actual character lore!

Laurance is actually based off a character in a show I watched as a kid but he’s changed so much that you can’t really tell anymore lol. He was born on a medieval planet and trained to be a guard. He got caught up in a cult on a pocket dimension and got killed and brought back to life as a demon and kept as a slave when he would swear to the ‘god’ the cult worshiped. He ended up escaping with a part dragon (scaleon) named Anisha who later became his wife. So here’s some are of him.

And yes, I drew them.

And a drawing I did last night for my Halloween wallpaper of his demon form

And then the other main character in this short story I’m writing is Matsu. He’s also based on an anime character I watched as a kid, but he’s changed so much that all that really remains the same is the color of his hair.

I have a yearly tradition of drawing him with a boba drink.

Matsu is a half mer so his other form really only shows up when his gills are immersed. This drawing was done by my friend.

Here’s a drawing I did of Laurance and Matsu I did a while back.

The other two members of the Adventurers show up in the short story towards the end so I’ll throw a couple of images here. I don’t have much are of Kira because she has been going through a redesign and it has been a mess.

Anisha

She is a part dragon known as a scaleon but she is actually stunted, 2-4 feet shorter than normal scaleons and her face is way more human looking than a scaleons is meant to be.

And we have kira. She is fully human but has slight abilities with shapeshifting. Only enough to change her hair and eye color occasionally. She’s from a high tech society and her parents while traveling through space to a new planet when she was still in the womb were in a radiation accident. Not enough to cause too many problems, but enough that any unborn children on that ship were later born missing limbs. She’s missing one arm but that’s not a big deal. She’s a techno wizard (a literal wizard that mixes magic and technology) so her prosthetics are nearly perfect

So, that’s the lot of them. (Not including all the kids they keep adopting over the years)

There is so much lore. I could talk about this all for days if anyone showed interest.

Thank you so much for asking!!! I’m very proud of this story and it’s complicated worldbuilding so I love getting the chance to talk about it, especially done I don’t usually get to because of how complicated the lore all is and how long it takes to provide adequate context for it.

#the adventurers #sandstorm #oc lore #Laurance #Matsu #Kira #Anisha #ask #thank you so much for asking #I love talking about this story

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headingalaxys-spicy · 2 years

Text

(Me late posting as always but here we go.)

Day 1: ‘In Space, no one can hear you scream’

@hetaween-event-2022

The Lights that could See

Tw: mentions of gore, suspense,

Pairing : 🇺🇸🇷🇺 RusAme 🇺🇸🇷🇺

The darkness to humans has always been a daunting thing to grapple with. As a child you had a nightlight to protect you from the beast of the night that was born from your hyperactive imagination. As a teen you cradled your smartphone scrolling through the interwebs to distract from the dark thoughts that were trying to take over from the shadows. And now as an adult…..

*BANG* *BANG* Metal, asteroid debris, rock, and ash spewed everywhere as Alfred takes out his frustration of being stranded in space worsens. His lover Ivan simply began to flinch the worse his temper tantrum continued to spiral as they lost power on their ship about an hour ago. Being one of the Space Teams to explore the M81 galaxy group things went haywire on the ship and now they were in a quiet outer region. They’d be stuck there for a few days, months, or years if they didn’t catch the attention of other explorers from their position on a small dwarf planet.

Alfred continued to slam his scratched, bruised, and bloody hands onto another boulder. He sent it flying off into the distance into the black void that had flecks of light that seemed emotionless.

“Perhaps you should calm down Alfred. Injuring yours won’t get us off this stranded planet.” There is hesitation in his voice but enough resolve and strength if it came out as comforting yet commanding.

Alfred freezes at the harsh change in tone that Ivan had taken but allows his heavy arms to cease his carnage in the unfamiliar environment. His breathing became more shallow and labored as if he was climbing Mt. Everest with no prior training. Ivan also began to feel the oxygen being taken away from his lungs.

“How can we be lacking air…? I know our ventilators have enough to last an entire year.” He checked the oxygen levels on his wrist device. And true there was still plenty of oxygen to sustain him and Alfred long enough to possibly get a successful signal out to someone. The gargantuan Russian had to drop to his knees and tried to ease the incoming panic that was informing his body’s reaction. All he could begin to hear ringing in his ear was the screech of a banshee as his heart rate picked up speed.

“Somethings not right dude….” Alfred states with a fearful quiver in his voice. That was a rare emotional response that Ivan has only ever heard twice in his life. Both of their attention was taken by rubble that moved suddenly. From it sprung out from the seemingly lifeless ground. It was a decapitated hand that still had some attachments hanging lifelessly from it as it began to claw its way towards them.

A shockwave of adrenaline surged through both of them and they sprang to their feet and ran.

“There is something incredibly fucked up going on and I’m sure neither of us want to find out what.” The ground beneath them became heated and thick like quicksand. It began to melt into a neon pink color so bright that it was offensive to the retinas. It emitted a floral scent meant to act as an anesthesia except it allowed its victims to feel every ounce of pain that was going to be inflicted upon them.

“Why even try ….Ivan?” Alfred mumbles already groggy. He was already succumbing to the toxic terrains effects.

“Nyet, you American idiot don’t you dare fall asleep on me. We’re in danger, don't you understand that?!?” He shakes him. Maintaining keeping himself conscious while trying to do the same for his boyfriend so they could-

“AHHH!” Ivan is caught from a vine that sprang to life from the vat of pink. His face planted in the sticky pink sludge. He did his best to not let his vision be blinded by the fluorescent sludge. He fought and kept his eyes facing upwards towards the star painted sky. It’s how he coped with the darkness. The ‘Stars’ however started back at him with a mischievous glint. A hot pink blob tackled him to the ground next to Alfred who was already unconscious from the poison. He struggled within the heavy substance as it covered his eyes and coated his entire world in black. He could feel every muscle in his body become restrained and relaxed. His stomach sank to the bottom of the arctic with an anvil latched onto it.

Ivan summoned all the energy within himself to let out an ear splitting yell. The cry was heard by no one.

“Specimens ready for dissection” a disembodied voice errely states from above as the whirring of sharp tools could be heard creeping closer.

#hetalia #hetaween 2022 #hetalia axis powers #hetalia america #hetalia fandom #hetalia russia #hetaween #headingalaxys spicy writes #headingalaxys spicy #aph rusame #rusame #hws america #hws russia #hws rusame #hetalia fanfiction writers

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le-amewzing · 2 years

Text

36 Hours

Just when I thought I was out of this universe, a missing moment pulls me back in. ;P *Note: This is set in my "20 Winks" universe and is set during the events described in the oneshot, "What's Yours Is Mine, What's Mine Is Yours," but this can be enjoyed on its own~ I just highly rec reading the previously published stories first for major feels. :3c

Fic: "36 Hours" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Tom Dalton, Timothy McGee, & implied Alden Parker/Jess Knight (so please tag with Parknight, ty~ c:), with cameos from Nick Torres, Ronnie Tyler, & Dale Sawyer, as well as a background OC

Rating: light T

Words: ~4,710

Additional info: suspense, friendship, romance, 3rd person POV

Summary: Disgraced former Special Agent Tom Dalton has some visitors, but it's the one who has nothing to say that frightens him. -—Or, McGee and Parker question an imprisoned suspect, and McGee leaves with more questions than before.

Dalton had come to appreciate exercise more behind bars. He'd been fit enough, during his days as an NCIS REACT Agent, and less so once he'd become Supervisory Special Agent. But being behind bars had robbed him of distractions that once kept him from focusing on his physique.

Not to mention being in prison meant he couldn't enjoy his cigarettes the way he had, long ago, atop the roof of NCIS headquarters. No, cigarettes were currency, and he couldn't acquire them like a free man. Dalton had to be careful when he had them, and he risked a smoke only when he absolutely needed it.

"Dalton!"

One of the guards—ah, that was Ewing, because only his shrillness could cut through the post-lunch clamor inmates produced—stood by the doors leading out into the yard. Ewing squinted in Dalton's direction and beckoned to him with an impatient wave of his hand.

Dalton ground his teeth, gnashing the freshly lit treasure hanging between his lips. Of course today, one of his rare smoking days, the guards decided to get on his case. Normally they looked the other way when it came to these things, because little vices were nothing to concern themselves with, but Dalton dutifully dropped the cigarette on the dusty concrete and stamped the butt out with his shoe. So far, his stay at this particular Camp Fed had been agreeable, but that was thanks mostly to his good behavior. Dalton didn't want to mess with that.

"You could use some sun, Ewing," Dalton quipped once he was within earshot of the pasty corrections officer.

Ewing frowned, not partaking in their typical polite banter. He stepped aside for Dalton to pass, closed the door behind them, and unhooked the pair of cuffs from his belt. "You have visitors, Dalton."

Procedure explained the lack of friendliness. Dalton held his wrists behind him and eyed Ewing while he was shackled. "Anyone I know?"

"A pair of feds, from NCIS."

Ah. Dalton's eyes widened at the news, an amused spark burning to life in him. Suddenly, he no longer cared about today's wasted cigarette…especially if the agents here right now were here because of previous ones well spent.

Ewing gauged his reaction and narrowed his blue eyes (pale, like the rest of him). "Surprised? I was, too. Didn't think you had any friends left at your old agency."

Dalton shook his head. He tamped down his excitement as Ewing came around front to lead the way to the visitors' area. "No," he answered honestly, "I don't think I do, either."

Their path from the inner courtyard exit where daily recreation occurred snaked through the prison at long intervals and ninety-degree angles. It wasn't a maze, but the length was an abysmally boring though healthy one, and Dalton had never bothered memorizing the path, understanding he'd never get out of here on his own. Besides, the visitors' area was right up by the main entrance and not far from the warden's office—meaning it was one of the most heavily guarded places in the prison. Making a mad dash out of here, even in decent shape, was not a risk Dalton wanted to take.

Dalton followed Ewing to the entrance and past it, catching the eyes of some other personnel. Some of them looked at him curiously (maybe they wondered over the visit, too?), but many ignored him, as they tended to do with all the inmates, unless the inmates gave them a reason to pay attention.

Ewing halted him outside a room that was little more than another cell, just slightly bigger in size and with solid, enclosed walls, the kind of room needed as though this were a visit with Dalton's lawyer. Ewing signed a clipboard another guard held out, and the latter then unlocked the door while Ewing re-cuffed Dalton's hands in the front. But before Ewing walked Dalton in, he turned to Dalton and said, "A reminder: Tom Dalton, you are in the care of this facility and have been on good behavior from the start. But you will remain handcuffed while speaking with these agents, and you will remain seated, or else."

Internally, Dalton rolled his eyes. Ewing's "or else" was such an empty little threat.

"I'll be right outside, Dalton," he added, and then he walked the prisoner in.

Standing in the room were two male agents, one Dalton recognized and one he didn't. Both turned his and Ewing's way the moment the door opened, and their eyes never left Dalton's face as Ewing got Dalton seated in the lone chair on the door-facing side of the small, metal table centered in the room.

Ewing faced them. "This is Prisoner Tom Dalton, as requested. You may freely question the prisoner on matters pertaining to your case, as indicated by word sent by his attorney this morning ahead of your meeting—"

Oh, really? Dalton's currency must've worked, if his lawyer knew the pickle he was in was a legal quagmire that would've sucked in both of them. He fought down a grin and a laugh.

"—and you are to follow house rules. Please stay on your side of the room at all times. Do not feed the prisoner. Do not give the prisoner anything to drink. Do not pass the prisoner anything—not even a pen or pencil to write something down for you. Dalton will remain handcuffed and seated at all times, as well, and I will be on the other side of this door, should you need anything."

The agent Dalton recognized nodded his head and gave Ewing a fleeting, professional smile. "Thank you."

Ewing returned the gesture, and then he was gone, leaving Dalton alone with his company.

Dalton decided to settle on that familiar face and let some of his own smile show. The links on his ugly, forced bracelets clinked as he leaned forward on the table and pointed up at the younger man. "McGee, right? One of Gibbs'."

McGee pursed his lips and cleared his throat. He pushed his jacket back, flashing his NCIS tin, and then gestured to himself and his partner. "Dalton, Special Agents Timothy McGee and Alden Parker. We have a lot to discuss."

Dalton shook his head at the formality. "Down to business, huh?" He glanced behind him at this new Parker fellow who took several steps back to lean against the far wall. He had no recollection of such a man in NCIS' history, so Dalton assumed he must've been some sort of outside hire or transfer. Ah, well, whatever. Dalton focused on McGee. "I'd say Gibbs has changed his tune, taking on not just young blood anymore—"

Parker didn't flinch at the prod.

"—but, then again, word gets around even in here. Especially about a man like Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

McGee hesitated. His pause was long enough for Dalton to continue.

"How's retirement treating the old dog?"

McGee grimaced at the choice of words. "We're not here to talk about Gibbs, Dalton."

Dalton dropped his shoulders in what he hoped was a relaxed, tired pose. "Hey, I don't get to see many people, McGee, least of all anyone from my NCIS days. And you and I are a bit alike, you know."

He could laugh, predicting the tiny furrow that formed between the guy's eyebrows. "How?"

Dalton shrugged. "I didn't hear only about Gibbs retiring. Your team fell apart. So did mine."

McGee bristled and clenched his jaw. "That's where you're wrong, Dalton. Our teams didn't fall apart. The one I'm a part of evolved. You literally destroyed yours."

…damn it. So, McGee had more of a backbone than Dalton imagined. Well, seeing as there was no use in being amiable towards him, Dalton dropped the pretense, as well as the half-assed smile. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest as best he could while handcuffed, which meant he managed primarily to tuck his hands under his armpits. "Fine. You want to talk business, talk business."

"We're here because you're trying to finish what you started, Dalton. Yesterday morning, Special Agent Jessica Knight's apartment was blown up."

Hearing her name brought the old investigation to mind. "My ire didn't lie with her, initially, you know. If Madden had just kept his nose out of my business with the vests—"

"We're not here to discuss Special Agent Madden."

"—but then he made it his business, and one thing led to another." Dalton frowned and tucked his chin into his chest. "I told her before: I didn't really want to take out the entire team."

Silence. Someone's foot ground on the floor in here. "Agents Madden, Ono, and Vargas are still dead, Dalton. If you never wanted to kill them, then why attack Knight?"

Dalton stared at McGee, gritted his teeth. "Because she's too stubborn for her own good. She refused to let up on the investigation that landed me in here." He knew the statement was inculpatory. NCIS agents never showed up unless they already knew at least half the story. Dalton could guess at which parts they were missing. "So—she survive?"

Parker stood eerily still in the back of the room, casual-like with his hands in his pockets, but that was the only notable thing about him. McGee's reactions were far more entertaining. The pale guy (not quite as alabaster as Ewing, but close enough) flushed with color at the thinly veiled disregard for Knight's status. He glared at Dalton, took a breath, and calmed, which smoothed out his round features. "Special Agent Knight is alive and safe, but her neighbors weren't so lucky. Three people were hurt in the blast, and two are critical. One of the critical is a five-year-old child, Dalton."

Again, he shrugged. They were collateral damage. But saying that aloud wouldn't help him right now. "Well, you've come to the right place."

"We need all the information you have about the person who took up the hit you put out on Knight."

And here Dalton couldn't help but offer a commiserating smile. "McGee. Come on. 'Person'?"

Another beat of silence. McGee's eyes widened, showing the whites all around his irises. "Dalton, exactly how many people did you hire?" He put down his notepad and pen, even, splaying his fingers on the cool tabletop.

Dalton withdrew his left hand from the warmth under his arm and scratched his shoulder by the seam of his shirtsleeve. "…hmm…"

"Dalton!"

He stopped scratching and held his hand out, fingers extended. "One for each member of my old team."

McGee paled (ah, now he looked like Ewing!). "Four?!"

"Hey, I led them, McGee. Count again." He waggled his fingers, thumb included.

The younger agent pulled a face. "Five. You hired…" He shook his head in disbelief and jotted it down. "We need names, numbers, addresses—everything. And now, Dalton."

But here was where Dalton figured his lawyer had caved too quickly. He pursed his lips and gave McGee the tiniest shake of his head. "I can help, but not yet. If I'm going to fork over information, I expect to get something for it. And I want a better cell than what I have."

This didn't impress McGee, who frowned but noted it regardless. On the other hand…

Dalton's demand made Parker twitch at last, which finally drew the prisoner's attention to the older agent.

Alden Parker, McGee had called him. …no, the name bounced around Dalton's head, but it didn't sound familiar to him, so he stopped trying to place the man in his memory. Besides, presently Parker was far more interesting, and Dalton sized him up. Parker dressed the part of a fed, with the suit and its pressed creases in all the right spots. He even wore a tie—a tie, for crying out loud! That put Dalton in mind of the relics running the different agencies nowadays. But that was where reading him stopped being easy.

Parker's hair was silver, and he had lines on his face, densest around his eyes. But Dalton couldn't determine his age. Older than Dalton? Younger, even by a few years? The multicolored scruff made it hard to say. And yet that wasn't what snagged the lion's share of his attention.

Parker's eyes… They were dark and seemed unfocused, but Parker's eyes unnerved Dalton when he realized Parker was, indeed, focused on him. Parker's dead stare burned holes in him, even as McGee resumed with the questions, of which Dalton only caught snippets thanks to this eerie concentration zeroed in on him.

Dalton swallowed a lump in his throat. It was funny, almost. After everything he'd seen in his REACT days, he didn't think there was much left that unnerved him.

"…ton. Dalton."

He actually was grateful for McGee to yank him back into the conversation. Dalton dropped his eyes to the table, ignoring the itchy feeling he had now, sitting here with them. "What?"

McGee huffed. "As I was saying, start from the beginning, with each name. And don't leave out any burners or any alternate…anything you can even guess at."

Dalton swallowed a second, tinier lump and nodded. "You'll—You'll need to start with Metro PD. There's a lieutenant there, an old friend I used to play cards with who's putting in his papers in a few years anyway…Jonathan Spence…"

McGee's pen flew over paper, and McGee flipped the pad as he filled the pages and Dalton handed him names and details. But their interaction wasn't the distraction Dalton hoped it would be, especially as this visit stretched out and certain points during the interview were punctuated by a dull cracking sound coming from the back of the room.

Dalton's eyes flew back to Parker's still form. The agent was still…mostly. Except he took to clicking his jaw every now and then, as information came to light. "It—It was Spence's job to scout her address, get her routine down as best he could…"

Click.

"…Miles Seba was Spence's partner for a time, and someone we both knew—but he owed me personally, for covering his ass during a drug bust gone wrong, since I happened to witness a certain transaction—"

Click.

"—and there's an ATF agent I met on an old case: Stevie Colfer. She was my best option for access to explosives—"

Click.

"—but not just Colfer!" Dalton rushed. He stared at McGee's pen, wishing he could tune out the sound now that he'd discerned it. "There was… There was someone in the local fire department, too. Rocco Ortega." He licked his lips. "…and her building supe? Spence built that connection, actually. But Terence St. George is no saint, and I'm sure he was hoping for additional favors of his own, in the future."

Click.

Dalton barely managed to bring to mind the actual details McGee requested after he gave up the names, so concerned was he with the menacing, foreboding motion aimed at him from barely eight feet away. Ewing stood on the other side of the door, yes, but Parker's simple action made Dalton wary that he might be attacked by this unknown factor. And, case aside, he had no clue why, especially because Parker refused to talk, to utter a single syllable or release a lone breath during this interview.

And yet there Special Agent Alden Parker stood, radiating a thinly veiled rage in the back of the room as Dalton counted off and detailed the numerous people he'd sent after Knight.

It felt like forever, sitting there, reviewing with McGee Spence's last known whereabouts, Seba's backup cell number, Colfer's preferred meeting place for taking odd jobs, Ortega's reasons for getting his hands dirty. They reviewed, McGee noted, the clock on the wall ticked the hours by—and all Dalton could think was how much he wanted to be back in his cell.

But there was something to be said for wish fulfillment. McGee clicked his pen then and stowed his notes in his inner breast pocket. "All right, I have everything," he announced, pushing his chair back to stand.

Relief flooded Dalton, enough to embolden him to remind McGee of his demand. "That's because I gave you everything, McGee. I helped. Wh-What about that cell move I want?"

At that second, Parker finally took a step toward the table, as if he'd be the one to answer.

But Dalton's hackles went up, and he shrank back in his chair, the metal feet screeching as he hastily put any extra distance between him and this man with obvious bloodlust.

McGee and Parker both made nothing of Dalton's reaction. "I'll…talk to the federal prosecutor," McGee said at last. He tipped his head at Dalton in acknowledgment—the closest thing a traitor got to thanks, Dalton supposed—and followed Parker out of the visiting room.

For the third time that late afternoon, Tom Dalton swallowed an unwelcome lump in his throat, still trying to make sense of how that interview had gone. Ewing came in to find him a bit paralyzed and reluctant to leave the chair, but Dalton was compliant by the second attempt to heave him up.

It wasn't until Dalton was halfway back to his cell that he realized the agents had left and McGee had made no verbal promise and also not left behind anything in writing regarding Dalton's side of the exchange.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, grinding his teeth and wishing he'd spent his cigarettes more wisely. "…fuck!"

McGee double-checked that his gun and holster sat correctly on his belt as he and Parker exited the prison after their interview with Dalton. Parker didn't do the same, walking in confident, evenly paced strides ahead of him. McGee followed his boss' silhouette with his eyes and squinted. Parker seemed oddly stiff after what had been a successful venture out here.

Frankly, though, McGee knew that wasn't the first odd thing about Parker today. No, the first thing had been Parker's strange request a couple hours ago, when they'd first arrived. "You'll do all the talking once we get in there," Parker had told him.

McGee had cocked his head at him and pulled a bemused smile.

But Parker had gotten ahead of any questions or objections, saying, "I believe in you, McGee."

Which…was a nice vote of confidence, sure, but McGee was smart enough to know by now when there was something else behind a person's request. And McGee knew, too, that it wasn't only today but yesterday, as well.

Something was off about both Knight and Parker since the explosion at her apartment yesterday morning. From Knight and Parker butting heads a bit at the scene to later talking quietly amongst themselves on and off at the office…

Still, McGee had tabled his curiosities and followed through with Parker's request this afternoon. After all, the case—and Knight's safety—was their top priority. And McGee was glad they weren't walking away from Dalton empty-handed. He said as much while he and Parker traipsed back to the car, but he also tried to lift Parker's mood at the same time. McGee grinned slyly, pointing out, "With any luck, no prosecutor's going to rise to the bait. If anything, all Dalton's done is helped to add years to his time."

Parker nodded rather absentmindedly. He slowed his steps once they were by the car, and he stood beside the passenger door, in no rush to get in.

McGee squinted at him again, from across the roof.

Of the past thirty-six hours, what Parker did next had to be the strangest thing McGee witnessed yet. The older man released a low, slow breath through his nose and slipped the tie from his neck, winding the neckwear around both of his hands, and he pulled. He pulled and pulled, hard enough to blanch his knuckles and fists, hard enough to stretch the fabric taut and thin and, holy shit, was he actually tearing his necktie in two—

McGee nervously laughed. "H-Hey, uh, Parker? What… What're you doing…there?"

The interruption appeared to snap Parker out of his momentary trance. He glanced at McGee and pocketed the trashed tie. "Venting. And I really didn't want to take it out on your car, McGee."

He hadn't expected an honest answer! McGee gawped at Parker, hesitating to get in the car with him.

But whatever version of Parker had been on display seconds ago was buried deep elsewhere, because normal Parker piped up, "McGee, come on. We're still on the clock, and we've got to track Dalton's people down, otherwise Jess is going to remain a target."

Reality brought him to his senses, and McGee slid in behind the wheel. He turned the engine over and got them on the road back to NCIS, but a part of his mind was still back in that prison parking lot.

The ride back was a quiet one. McGee kept glancing at Parker, not looking for an opportunity to talk, really, but just to observe. And Parker either didn't mind or wasn't aware of the scrutiny—the latter, McGee supposed, since Parker rested an elbow inside the passenger door, cupped his cheek in his palm, and stared out the window for the entire ride, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

McGee wondered about how dark those thoughts were, and why. Parker claimed he'd vented, and yet he still seemed as taut as his damaged tie.

And, to think, McGee thought he and Torres had enough to worry about, with Knight being Dalton's target.

Daylight was disappearing on them by the time they arrived back at the Navy Yard. McGee tried not to think about how Parker hadn't spoken an extra peep during the ride back—not unlike his stony silence during the interview with Dalton—and he pushed the memory of the shredded tie down as he and Parker took the elevator upstairs at NCIS. And the tie? Really, what was that? Just a footnote, if McGee actually thought about it.

Knight's head popped up from her desk like a meerkat's when they exited the elevator. "Hey! How'd it go?" she asked.

McGee went to exchange a glance with Parker, but Parker's tired expression was reserved for Knight as they entered the bullpen. McGee instead nodded at Torres and at Ronnie and Sawyer, whose shift as part of Knight's protective detail would've started just a few minutes ago. "Well, actually, I'd say it was a major success."

Torres raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding. Vance's national security threat worked on the jerk's lawyer?"

He nodded. "Yeah, lawyer wasn't there. Dalton was ours so long as we stuck to the details of this case only."

Ronnie crossed her arms in front of her chest and shared an annoyed look with Torres. "Well, damn. If we'd known it was gonna be that easy…"

Parker leaned on the front of Knight's desk and pulled his eyes away from her to settle the others with a frown. "The director didn't make a threat," he corrected. "NCIS still had to go through legal channels, which took a ridiculous amount of time considering how quickly we figured the likelihood it was Dalton yesterday." He practically spat the word, and Knight mustered a sympathetic smile for him and patted his nearer arm.

"Hate to state the obvious, but…" Sawyer rolled on the balls of his feet and jerked his chin at their little gathering. "What's next?"

McGee pulled his memo pad out and, since Parker didn't object, gave the sitrep. It wasn't just the names Dalton had given them, either, but also a list of other tasks—notes about which fellow inmates Dalton had paid off in some form to pass along messages, a reminder to check Seba's accounts under a recurring misspelling of his surname as "Seiba," even McGee's passing idea that perhaps Dalton's lawyer might've been instrumental in this and required checking. …and, the more he recounted, the larger McGee's worries loomed.

They'd had big cases before, but this one—as quickly as they needed to get to the bottom of things—finally might be too big for just the four of them to handle.

Ronnie picked up on that, dropping her arms to her sides and offering McGee a tentative smile. "McGee. We can help with this, too." Her curls bounced when she jerked her head at Sawyer, who shrugged noncommittally. "We've got Knight's back during watch, of course, but we can help you sift through this info when our shift's over."

McGee wanted to jump on the offer. But he, Torres, and Parker had been spending as much time at NCIS with Knight and her protective details as possible, because they'd all suspected Dalton might still have connections worth using, maybe even still at NCIS.

That meant that Ronnie and Sawyer, and Finley and Dawkins, weren't off the hook, even though the MCRT felt they knew them well enough.

So McGee deferred to Parker.

Parker straightened up but didn't take long to assess the offer. "We'd appreciate that," he said a beat later, ignoring McGee's look of surprise.

When McGee glanced over his shoulder at Torres, he saw his own expression mirrored on his friend's tanned face.

Ronnie grinned, though, none the wiser. "Great! I'll actually feel useful to you—not that looking out for you isn't important," she directed at Knight.

Knight smiled and tipped her head. "Nah, I get it. I hate waiting around, too, Ronnie."

While McGee dropped his things at his desk to settle back in, Parker dragged his feet, looking to leave the bullpen again. The older man ran a hand over the back of his head as he glanced upstairs. "I guess I'll go update the director, in the meantime."

"I'll join you," Knight said, eagerly pushing out of her chair. For someone who'd nearly been blown up the other morning, she was awfully chipper at the moment.

Parker hesitated, but the tension in his body language ebbed from him the longer Knight worked that soft smile on him. He nodded, and they fell into step together as they headed for the director's office, with Ronnie and Sawyer shadowing Knight at a polite distance.

McGee stood by his desk, watching them until they faded from sight, and his curiosities from before returned in the office's quiet.

Knight and Parker… Parker and Knight.

His curiosities bubbled up, forming into something more solid. There was, of course, wonder over how much the past thirty-six (really, pulling up on forty now) hours had affected the team as a whole… And yet McGee wondered just how close Knight and Parker were.

Butting heads at the scene.

Talking closely, just the two of them, at the office.

And not just earlier, when leaving the prison—there'd been a few other times McGee must've misheard Parker, calling her "Jess" instead of "Knight," during this case.

But it wasn't just how they were acting around each other, McGee realized as it hit him, finally, why Parker's behavior in the prison parking lot had caught him by surprise. It wasn't only that McGee had been scared of that side of the man.

McGee knew he'd seen that kind of reaction before, in others.

Sure, he'd never witnessed anyone murder a necktie before, but—that rage? That was a special kind of rage, and McGee had seen it several times before, when certain people—loved ones—were in danger.

Tony, with Ziva.

Ziva, with Tony.

Bishop, with Torres.

Torres, with Bishop.

At that thought, McGee's eyes wandered over to his friend, and Torres lifted his head, quirking an eyebrow at his audience, as if asking, Who, me?

…ah, right. Torres' clueless expression helped snap McGee out of it, and McGee finally planted himself in his desk chair, determined to pry himself from this silly train of thought. And it was silly, even as his mind wandered back to when Parker and Knight had been trapped months and months ago in the parking garage explosion and he ventured that perhaps things had evolved for the two since then…

But no. No! This was Parker and Knight, after all, and McGee was overthinking about these two. Clearly he was just seeing things, hearing things that weren't there….

OMG I don't think I've ever turned an outline into a draft so fast. XD SO! As with many of my Parknights, I wrote this before the s19 finale, so who tf knows how that changes hcs, but who cares?! Esp bc I love the "20 Winks" universe too much to change course with it much, I think (I'll hafta see how much I like the canon as we head into s20, *lol*). ANYWAY. This is the missing moment I referred to in "What's Yours Is Mine, What's Mine Is Yours," bc, the more I thought about it, the more I at least wanted to show an enraged Parker reining in his temper but also show how others take in Parker and Knight without knowing about Parknight; this is, indeed, one of my fav storytelling techniques, the ship-thru-others'-eyes, which I've employed before in NCIS fic (see "Sartorially Suited"), have done once for HQ!!, and enjoy on and off for HariPo, bc it's so much fun! It was also kinda fun scaring the shit out of Dalton, who thought he had the upper hand for a hot minute, and also torturing Parker a leetle bc Dalton was practically boasting about getting revenge on Knight bc sour grapes. X'D Poor bby deffo needed Knight's smile and frankly a hug and a smooch when he and McGee returned to the office, but a protective detail makes that difficult! Also, also! The tie murder (*LOL*) felt appropriate, considering the ways Parker has expressed his rage before canonically, but the more I thought about it, the more it felt right to have McGee draw the comparison in this manner to Tiva and to Ellick. But, ofc, Timothy McGee laughs things off, bc nooo, he can't possibly be seeing Parknight with his own two eyes! Anywho. Also, Ronnie & Sawyer cameo bc yay. c: (I rly do adore the minor charries across my fandoms~) -w- Lastly: Do take the prison/lawyer stuff w/a grain of salt, even if Vance did claim national security, bc yeah no. :O So you know the drill, if you read my stuff! Check out the others in the "20 Winks" universe if you started with this one first, go read some other Parknights bc I have what feels like a million of them now XD, enjoy some art by me (on my pillowfort) as well as other content (on the parknights tumblr), feel free to request (fic or art!), and always feel welcome to come chat! Idk where this universe will go (if anywhere) next, but we'll see! I'm just so happy to write 3 Parknights in a week, *lol* (as of writing, this, "What's Yours," and "Late-Night Promises" were all written within just a couple days of each other, and another two stories were edited…luckily before I started feeling like crap again bc thanks, allergies). ;P

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

#ncis #parknight #alden parker #jessica knight #tom dalton #timothy mcgee #fanfic #mew writes too much #nick torres #ronnie tyler #dale sawyer #this is one of my fav types of story to write c:#parknight: 20 winks universe

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

Text

I listened to some stuff yesterday, it made me remember some things, I got distracted by thinking about that while working, I wrote it down in the hopes that that would help. It’s going to be another long and rambly one that’s really just for me and is worth skipping.

Yesterday, I felt brought me back to a day in 2021 when a few friends and I were helping another friend move out of his apartment. He’d bought a condo – the first person I know to actually buy property – that, he insisted, was not way out in the suburbs. But it’s the suburbs compared to where we live, right downtown. It’s two buses or a 50-minute bike ride away. He was moving there with his girlfriend.

I expecting helping him move to be difficult, but once I started, I found it even tougher than I’d expected. I’ve helped so many friends move over the years, and before that time, it was always at least kind of fun. I mean it sucks, but we do it together, we play music and talk shit and take things apart, then at the end we all sit on the floor in the new place that’s full of nothing but boxes, and drink beer and eat takeout. Then for years after, whenever we go to that place, we have stories about that time we spent and hour and a half getting this couch through that doorway when they first moved in.

It’s possible that because I haven’t done this in a long time (aside from that one day in 2021), I may be romanticizing it a bit. When you’re actually doing it, the process of moving is grueling and fucking annoying. But when you look back, what you remember is the feeling of satisfaction at the end, and the beer and pizza in a room full of new possibilities.

The one last year was very different. It was the first time I’ve ever helped with a move and not enjoyed it even a bit. I kept volunteering to do the smaller, one-person jobs, because I didn’t want my friends to see how sad the whole process made me. Every time I walked through the apartment, I thought about all the times I’d walked through there before, and all the things we wouldn’t do again.

I didn’t even see his new place that day. I did a lot of work with helping them put everything in the U-Haul (you know you’re growing up when helping your friends move means putting everything they own into one U-Haul, rather than doing what was meant to be four but turned into twelve trips back and forth in a friend’s truck), but by the end I could hardly keep it together. My friends told me that loading the U-Haul was the hard part, they had more than enough people to unload it without me, I may as well not come so far out of my way when I was so close to home already. I took them up on that, and didn’t follow them to the new neighbourhood. I walked the ten minutes home and drank beer and ordered pizza alone in my bedroom, because that’s what life had become by May 2021.

So I didn’t see his new place the day he moved into it. I saw a couple of pictures on the group chat, but honestly I skimmed by them because looking at them made me sad. I never saw the place in person until just a few months ago now, when my best friend and I joined another friend and his girlfriend at the first friend’s house for a dinner party.

Okay, to make things simpler I think I need to give a name to the friend who moved, and in the tradition I’ve used a few times on this blog of telling personal stories but changing the names to those of British comedians, I’m calling him Richard Ayoade. Because I’ve actually compared those two people in a previous post about people who have voices like Sheldon Cooper, and I stand by that comparison.

In August, my best friend and I drove out to the condo of Richard Ayoade and his girlfriend, where we were met by another friend of our and his girlfriend, and we ate ramen that the hosts had cooked. It was very good. They’d spent all day making it, and told us all about the process. We also discussed the efforts of several people in the room to get promoted at work, and the efforts a friend of my friend’s was making to upgrade a car, and the upcoming municipal elections. I’m being a bit disingenuous to include the latter on a list of boring conversation topics, as I do like talking politics, but this particular discussion felt so awkwardly restrained that I didn’t participate much.

I mean, I did participate a bit. At one point the conversation turned to federal politics, and our local MP who’d been bullied out of her job by misogynistic harassment. Ayoade’s girlfriend mentioned a few incidents that had cumulated in the word “cunt” being sprayed on the MP’s campaign office’s window. I said yes, I heard an interview in which she said the “cunt” on the window thing was the last straw after all the actual death threats, because that one was so public.

There was silence for a second, and then I realized that when Ayoade’s girlfriend had told the story, she’d said the window was sprayed with the word “C-U-N-T”. She had spelled it out for the sake of polite company, and I had actually said the word, not realizing the discrepancy until after. I immediately got very socially awkward and apologized, and Ayoade’s girlfriend was very nice, saying she’d only spelled the word out in case anyone else might be offended, but she had no problem hearing it, and it was fine. I think she meant it, but I still shut my mouth for the rest of the conversation.

We all had one beer, and then stopped because people were driving. I don’t mean to make it sound like that makes an evening boring either – I’ve had many great nights when no one was drinking, and many great nights when most people were drinking but friends who don’t drink at all or chose not to drink that night were around, and those friends were still great fun, and if anyone even made a joke about those people being less fun due to not drinking, I’d tell them to fuck off. So I don’t mean a night with insufficient alcohol can’t be fun. But in this case, the reason we didn’t have more was because my friend lived too far away for us to walk home, and we were all being responsible adults, and I didn’t know the girlfriends of Richard Ayoade or my other friend well enough to feel comfortable getting drunk around them anyway, and that depressed me.

I mean, it was fine. It was good, actually. I hadn’t seen those friends in a long time, and it was genuinely nice to spend time with them again. I’d missed them. But also, I just sat there politely eating dinner and not saying “cunt” with them, and felt like we were all pretending. This wasn’t what we did.

It’s only in the last couple of months that I’ve started going back to practices for the sport I coach, and I see Richard Ayoade at most of them. We normally don’t talk beyond a quick hello, which is fair because there’s stuff going on, though there is some room for socializing during practice. We used to make jokes to each other during the practices about what people were doing, but we don’t do that anymore. Not because we’re trying to be more responsible, but just because the shared understanding on which we built those jokes has dissipated. Before COVID hit, all the coaches used to go to a pub after two of the practices per week, and that’s where we did most of our socializing and building foundations for the in-practice jokes. But we don’t do that anymore.

The other day, I saw him at practice and he asked me how I’m doing. He asked if I’ve finished that college program, and I said yes, a month ago. Now I’m back to my at-home job and looking for something better. I asked him how he’s doing, and he said he got promoted at work two months ago and is focused on impressing new bosses. He mentioned in the group chat a while ago that he was shopping for an engagement ring for his girlfriend, but I haven’t heard whether there are updates on that.

So we were just standing there, giving each other the headlines of our weeks-old news, and I felt like we were having this incredibly surface-level conversation and pretending the last seven or eight years didn’t happen. I wanted to tell him, “We don’t do this! You and I don’t stand around on mats talking like this. That’s not our relationship!”

We once drove to Michigan together and slept on floors just to yell at children for a weekend (with their consent, I should add; in our sport you have to yell pretty loudly from the corner or the athletes won’t hear you, also most of the people we coached were actually teenagers and not children, if that helps). We’ve actually shared sleeping floor space in many different areas: my friend’s gym, and several friends’ apartments, and hotel rooms with too many people to fit on beds to save money. Richard Ayoade and I have probably yelled at children and teenagers together in at least fifteen different municipalities over the years, going to most of those a bunch of times. We’ve yelled at refs in at least six of them.

I have pushed him into snowbanks and been pushed into snowbanks. I have participated alongside him in four separate drinking games tournaments, with him in charge of doing the math involved in setting up and tracking draw sheets. I have seen him strip off all his clothes and show off how many chin-ups he could do for the promise of two dollars, and at that moment he was sober. I have seen him run four kilometres and drink four beers in fifteen minutes because that seemed like a fun challenge at the time, and I’m pretty sure clothes came off in the process of that as well. He and I have sat on the curb with our other friends at 3 AM, eating shawarmas after drinking too much, so many times.

I let him talk it out for ages as he realized things were falling apart with his previous girlfriend. I always avoided pointing out the obvious, that the relationship was terrible and needed to end, mainly because I always think people should break up with their boyfriends or girlfriends, so I’m biased. It’s hard for me to tell when a relationship is genuinely bad, and when I just think it is because I always think that. But one day, when it was just him and I left at the pub after everyone else had gone home, he said, “I mean, I know she loves me, and I care about her very much.”

Before I could stop myself I pointed out, “You did not use the same word both times there.” He was drunk and didn’t know what I meant, asked me to repeat what he’d said, and I said don’t worry about it, I was just being pedantic, there is no need to read into what was actually just a slip of the tongue. But he told me again to repeat it, and I did, and he said I was right.

When he ended it two weeks later, he went straight from there to a tournament (a sports one, not a beer one), and we went straight from there to a pub with the coaches, and he told me that day was everything he needed to remember that life was so much bigger than that one relationship. But he also struggled with it, and I came over many times over the next few weeks, when he told me he needed a distraction.

When he started dating again, I got all the stories. The first time he had sex, the woman left straight after, and he called me to say he felt weird because after years in a relationship, he wasn’t used to being alone right after that. So I told him to come over and we watched Letterkenny until he fell asleep on my couch.

And the emotional support in difficult times very much did not go only one way. When I first moved into where I live now, it was because I’d been living with my best friend, but he and I had been fighting about stupid things because I can’t share physical space with anyone without freaking out about it. So we decided to split up, and I moved into this house, with a guy on the team I’d sort of known for fifteen years and was civil with but never really liked, since he needed a roommate and had cheap rent in a good central location, and I don’t have to worry about ruining a friendship since he and I never had one. That was four years ago and I haven’t ruined anything – I spend all my time in my bedroom, my roommate and I say about four words to each other per week, it works fine.

I was really depressed at the time, because I was sad about not living with my friend anymore, and feeling like I was impossible to live with. The one upside was that my new place was only a ten-minute walk away from Richard Ayoade’s apartment. I started going over there all the time. We watched Letterkenny and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and videos of matches from our sport. I listened while he practiced the keyboard. We went on spontaneous walks around downtown in the middle of the night, and he pointed out how moving to the more central location has its upsides, because we could do things like that without even planning it. He experimented with frequently terrible combinations of liquor and soft drinks, and shared the results with me. I walked home from his house at 1 AM so many times, or if we were up later than that I’d just crash on his couch and walk home in the morning.

When my multi-year effort to get a board spot on the organization that oversees our sport and use it to combat just some of the ingrained sexism and general predator protecting that goes on there went up in flames, he let me quite literally cry on his shoulder. I couldn’t bring myself to read the replies to my resignation email, in which I’d taken a chance by writing things I couldn’t write while maintaining my position on the board, risking a bit of my reputation just to try to start a semi-public conversation about the stuff we only talk about in whispers. I only managed to read them while sitting with Ayoade on his couch, getting through the HR-style replies with the same stock lines they’d been using for years, final confirmation that it had all come to nothing and no discussion would be sparked. Then there were more tears, and we drank several brands of whiskey with a number of different soft drinks that night.

When COVID hit, there were a lot of Zoom calls at first. The first time I left my house for non-grocery-shopping-related reasons, it was to sit on Richard Ayoade’s balcony with him, look at the city, and talk about how we couldn’t wait to have our lives back, just like they were before, when this is all over. I told him I’ve been watching a lot of British comedy lately, to pass the time until this is all over and I can go back to my life.

The Zoom chats and the balcony beers got fewer and father between as time went on. I started socially isolating myself as well as physically isolating, and he got closer with his girlfriend, whom he’d met just a few months before the pandemic. Every day ran together when nothing was ever happening, and we lost track of time.

We still met up when we needed it, at least at first. He texted me one day to say he felt like he was falling apart, and we went for a distanced walk to talk about problems with his family. I texted him one day to say I haven’t spoken out loud in three weeks and think I might be feeling suicidal for the first time in years, and he came over and saw me cry again.

When our friend died, it was the height of the delta lockdown, so we couldn’t all gather as a group. But Richard Ayoade and I went over to my best friend’s place, and the three of us had our own little mourning – too small, as the group we’d shared had more people than that, but it was something. We poured out half a bottle of whiskey in our friend’s honour and then drank the rest of it and one more, and watched his old tournament videos and the highlight reel I’d made him as a Christmas gift once, and got our other friends on the phone.

That’s what we used to do together. And that’s just the summary, just a few of the most intense points where our lives have converged, it leaves out so much. It leaves out a lot of the happy times, like when he first got that job that recently promoted him, and he texted me immediately, instead of mentioning it in passing two months later. We all celebrated with him that weekend.

Now we stand there sharing two-sentence summaries of our news, and I knew it would happen. I knew it as I helped him move out of his apartment, a ten-minute walk away, to a place that basically counts as the suburbs. I knew as I moved his keyboard and his couch and the chairs on his balcony, and a box with the glasses and jars he used for mixing whiskey. I couldn’t do it without feeling sad, because I knew it represented all that finally being over for good.

My girlfriend and I broke up last week, and it was really really hard – still is, I’m throwing myself into other stuff and using this blog as a distraction, but it’s been hard – and I didn’t have any friends who felt close enough for me to reach out to them about it. And that, I think it’s fair to say, is not because I had a girlfriend for fourteen months. I hate it when romantic relationships take precedence over platonic ones, or over other things people are passionate about, so I never let mine do that. To be honest, that would be one of the reasons it ended. But the point is that any isolating from my friends that was my fault was not because I was too focused on my girlfriend; it was due to my own mental health issues and tendency to isolate myself as a response to those issues (…another reason the relationship ended). Girlfriend-based pulling away from friends was done by Richard Ayoade, and by a few of my other friends who’ve acquired romantic partners, but not by me. But whatever the reason, I’ve still found myself in a situation of going through something tough and not having someone who will watch Letterkenny on a couch with me about it.

Anyway, yesterday I started listening to a Daniel Kitson show about moving out of his old apartment where he’d shared things with friends who have since moved away and grown up, and about ten minutes in I needed to turn that the hell off and listen to him yell at Tim Key instead. Because the number of times Daniel Kitson has made cry so far is holding steady at three – though I argue that it should be 2.5 at the most because one of those times was actually about my friend who died and all Kitson did was remind me of that, and anyway Isy Suttie was the one who said the actual words that got me so she deserves the credit if anyone does – and I am determined to not let that number go higher. After resisting for some time, I resigned months ago to being the sort of nerd who’s really, annoyingly into Daniel Kitson. But I will not be one who lets him make me cry four times.

So I turned that off, listened to a bit of him doing something else, and then put on music to try to get some work done. I put my entire music collection on shuffle, and of the 11,274 songs, the first one to come on was Sweet Bedford by Gavin Osborn. I don’t think it’s a complete coincidence; I think the supposedly random iTunes shuffle function has a bias toward songs that were recently added or recently played, which that one was. But still, it was strange to have just turned off a show about friendships growing apart, and then immediately have on a song about the same subject. And not just the same subject, but the same person! They both wrote things about growing away from the same person. I looked at my laptop and said, “Fuck off, Gavin,” out loud before skipping the song.

I think the lesson here is that John Oliver needs to stop moving away from places. Or maybe he needs to do it more, because apparently that causes the people he left behind to create great art about it. Maybe he should move every few years to jumpstart the amount of bittersweet nostalgic odes to friendship in the world. Now that I think about it, I did actually listen to some other stuff over the weekend that unexpectedly had some John Oliver moving away-based sad stories, though that was quite a different circumstance. Still though, that’s three on one subject.

I swear I have not intentionally curated my media to mainly consist of stories about John Oliver moving away, aside from the fact that I’ve dived into a fairly specific genre: anything ever made by any comedian who is now in their forties, did a show at Edinburgh at some point between 2000 and 2009, and may have had a chocolate milkshake at some point during those festivals. Turns out there are some running themes within that niche. And I mean, I guess in some ways I have intentionally sought out those stories; I did have a very long and detailed post going recently that collated scraps of John Oliver’s connections to British comedy. But on this specific week, I was not specifically searching to encounter quite so many stories on the specific subject of how people feel after John Oliver moves away from them.

I don’t know if all the art is worth it; he needs to just stay where he fucking is. He’s like Helen of Troy, he broke some hearts and launched a thousand art projects (okay, three, though I think you could count some of Andy Zaltzman’s laments after he left The Bugle as at least one more). If he does it again someone might get killed; I’ve read Greek mythology and no matter how beautiful the art is, these things never end well.

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utahbastards · 12 days

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𝐢’𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭.

Cain hadn't been sleeping well since the attack, nor had Shiloh, though they lay facing opposite directions pretending for the sake of the other. It wasn't the bloodshed that kept him restless, truthfully, he'd be numbed to that too many years ago to rattle him now. It was the squeezing anxiety of knowing just how close he'd been to being too late. Cain was supposed to stay by his post to stop as many of the walkers as he could before they hit the main lobby, he'd killed the two morons that had been corralling them in, but there was no shutting a door that barely hung on its remaining hinges after their handiwork. A girl tried to help him reload, despite her trembling hands. He the clip from her with a small conciliatory smile, snapping it back into the hardware. He'd been ready to open fire again when he heard her screaming. The zombies to the front forgotten in a flash, Cain spun back to her. He hadn't thought it through, he never would have fired if he had. But the jock that had been hauling her off of her feet dropped Shiloh in a heap, stumbling thrice before collapsing straight down, dead weight with a good portion of his brain sprayed across the now shattered window behind him.

They didn't want her dead. At least not quickly. They'd used the walkers as a distraction, another half a dozen sneaking in through the back corridors that Charlie must've leaked. Cain stopped them. But he couldn't stop the thoughts of what would have happened if he hadn't. Evidently neither could Shiloh. From that night, the pair seldom spent a moment apart. Where once they at least feigned dutiful hours spent, now there was no denying that it was personal. And everyone could see it. He hovered at her flank, ghosting along behind with challenging eyes watching every face they encountered. Cain second-guessed everybody, especially Shiloh the moment she extended a white flag to Beckett's sister. There's being kind and then there's being delusional, he'd challenged. She wouldn't hear it, what could he do but let it slide to keep the peace?

Peace, however, continued to evade them. Their medical supplies were almost nonexistent after the attack and people were starting to get sick with no antibiotics among the group. Even the medical faction's supply was dwindling, sweeps of the rest of the hospital would be starting soon. But not soon enough, he'd arranged a trade with Tommy but that meant leaving. And leaving meant Shiloh stayed here without protection. The kids masquerading as soldiers could bitch all they liked about that assessment, it made it no less true. Killing zombies was easy, you didn't have to think about it much. But many learned just how hard it was to shoot when the person staring back at you didn't want to die. Cain knew how to kill, he didn't trust anyone here enough to say the same.

"𝐢’𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭," She sighed. That would be true at the best of times, let alone with how rattled she'd been. The knuckle dragger hadn't hurt her, he'd gotten there fast. But the fear lingered. He saw it in every flinch. She moved around him, his frame feeling too large for the room as she squeezed by him; too close.

"We're down too many bodies," He argued gently, turning his head to follow her as she fiddled around the room, trying to find tasks to busy herself with. "I don't want to leave you here unprotected."

"Beckett's dead," She reminded him softly. And thank god for that. He didn't like Jax, and problems seemed to follow him. But he'd weeded out Charles and better yet, he'd put down the blonde cockroach and saved Cain the trouble of hunting him down. It was hard to know exactly what went down, everything in this place was glorified thirdhand information, but Cain had gotten the broadstrokes. He saw the damage for himself the following morning. He'd caught himself smiling at the grizzly sight when he was sure Blair hadn't been looking. "So are most of his friends."

"But not all of them," He countered. She turned to him with those big stupid sad eyes and he turned his gaze petulantly. "It might be inconvenient for us, but I know you're safe with me. Even out there, I can protect you better than any of them."

#cain ransome #meme #meme: cain #cain x shiloh

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starshiprangerash · 2 years

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I'm just gonna talk about some personal stuff, essentially dumping everything in this post. I don't expect anyone to read it, hence the read more cut. I just want to type it all out, I think it'll help a lot. So feel free to ignore this.

Let me just recap this year a little, well over a year.

So, about October of last year my dad got an infection. Now I don't what kind, or how, or anything. He wasn't keen on telling us stuff. But he couldn't had this, cause I was the one who had to stay with him to make sure he took his medicine.

And things seemed to pretty fine, and then July happened. And oh boy did the universe decide to have some fun timing.

So, June 30th, Techno's dad posts the video announcing that sadly Techno had lost his battle to cancer.

July 1st, I wake up go downstairs, ans my mom tells me my aunt has cancer. (here's a fun fact I only have 2 aunts, and the other one died from cancer a few years ago)

And then the end of the month comes along, where me and my sister go on vacation with my dad's girlfriend's family. During which my dad has to go back home for a doctor's appointment. While he's gone, me and my sister find out, he wasn't fine. He had been in and out of the hospital for months. That realization hurt. We all thought he was doing fine. So when he comes back, I tell him he can't hide that, we want to know, and there's an agreement reached.

August 10th, I have the most interesting first 20 minutes of consciousness. Cause hey that's when Oli posted his first Empire's video. And it's also when my dad got admitted in the hospital. And it's also when my mom came into my room to tell me my grandpa had cancer.

And thus began the month where someone was in the hospital all the time. And I'm not exgerrating, I kept track. The longest no one was in the hospital was 18 hours. Either my dad, grandpa, or grandma was in the hospital. Sometimes all at once. Yippee.

And then September. The first to be exact. My mom comes into my room to wake me up. They had to intubate my dad. My sister was coming soon, and we were going to go over to say our goodbyes. Luckily he pulled through. The 10th, Grandpa is rushed to the hospital. He never leaves. He died on the 15th. I didn't much care, he was a miserable man who made everyone around him miserable. But it still happened. Didn't hit till two days ago when the Christmas Eve party text went out. He always played piano.

And things liked good after that. My aunt was getting chemo, grandma was doing fine for her age, and my dad was getting stronger. He's eating, he's trying to talk. We visited on Thanksgiving.

December 3rd. My dog's barking wakes me up. I text my mom asking if she wants me to send him down or if I should wait, cause I know she might be cleaning the floors. She just says my sister is coming. My sister arrives, and they both come into my room. The first thought that passes through my head was "The last time they had to sit down like this was when my cat died while I was at work" almost jokingly say that. Only reason I don't is cause I get a message that distracts me long enough for my sister to rip the band-aid off.

And I understood what people meant when they say "time stood still" or "they felt the world flip upside down" Cause that's what happened. Two words. Two words I haven't been able to repeat.

Look my dad wasn't the world's best dad, but goddammit he was mine. And it's been in waves. Like that first day I was a wreck, and yes I went to work. It helped. It was a distraction. Every person who found out (either from putting two and two together or from a text I had my sister send cause I couldn't) asked me why I was there? Cause i needed to be, not in a work way, but in a distraction way.

Also I should mention, my mom's birthday is December 5th, ain't that some funny timing as well.

I guess this is the part where I ramble. Cause I haven't been able to fully process this. Or maybe I yell cause it's not fucking fair. Cause it isn't. My grandpa who was a shitty person got so much time with his kids. Ans he fucking wasted it, leaving a mess in his wake. My dad got so little with his. My grandpa saw one of his grandkids get married. My dad didn't even see his kids get married. He deserved more. Maybe I deserved to have a dad longer. I don't know.

I do know my life is different. I do know I'll have to process this with more than just jokes. I also know I'm tired of "are you alright?" I know I'm tired of "I'm sorrys".

If you did read this, just know I know. You're thinking you wish well wishes, thoughts prayers, virtual hugs, or whatever. I know. And while I do appreciate it, I don't need to read it. Just know I know and appreciate it. Or maybe do tell. I don't know. This whole grief and healing thing is confusing. I don't like it. But I can't avoid it. Is that why people still say all those things? Cause it helps the process. You can't deny or ignore it. Maybe. I don't know.

But I do know I need to end this with those two words. The words said to me on December 2nd. The two words I haven't said. The two words that changed my life. The two words I refuse to type. (though it'll be three in this case)

My dad died.

#ash's grief talks #just in case i talk more #might though #writing things out helps #i think #it helped with the other stuff

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aceofshitposts · 3 years

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Happy Valentines Day everyone!!! This wasnt actually what I initially planned and it technically... isn’t v-day themed but it DOES feature idiots in love so that’s good enough, right? No beta we die like robins okay hope you enjoy! (will probably throw this up on ao3 tomorrow too)

ALSO a reminder that you can totally send me prompts for little drabbles/ficlets!! a sentence or dialogue or just an au you think might be cool (i adore aus) or if you just wanna say hi!

Jason's not stupid. It's just that. Things can sneak up on you sometimes, okay? They all have that habit of getting lost in the details or not looking for what isn’t expected. And boy, is this not expected.

"Please," Tim is imploring in the same tone a child asks their parent for a candy bar at the grocery store checkout, "Bruce isn't even going to be there so you don't have to worry about him."

That's. Really not the problem. The problem is Jason has no idea why Tim is asking him, of all people. Not that he doesn't like hanging out with Tim, as a matter of fact he probably likes it too much. Seeking Tim out had become a bad habit, if he’s honest, that has escalated from working on cases together to eating meals after patrol and even occasionally meeting up during the day to whisk Tim away from the office for a proper lunch.

They're friends, right? But that doesn't explain why Tim is inviting him to an important social gathering and not, say, one of the Titans if he needs a second that badly. Hell, Dick or Stephanie are better choices than Jason is. Asking Jason is. Is. It’s-

It feels a little like Tim’s asking him on a date. Which is absurd for all kinds of reasons, least of which is that Tim doesn’t like Jason like that.

"Why are you asking me?"

Jason winces. That sounded harsh even to him and the way Tim’s expression goes from distinctly hurt to completely closed off has Jason cringing even more.

“Okay,” Tim says, turning towards the open window.

“Okay?” Jason repeats, already forgetting that Tim hasn’t answered his question.

“Mhmm, don’t worry about it,” he says in a tone that suggests Jason should absolutely worry about it.

With that Tim slips out the window and into the early Gotham morning, leaving Jason with an extra breakfast burrito that they’d never even got around to eating before Tim had… whatever the hell that had been. Jason stares at the open window for a moment more, the wind blowing a napkin into his face, and decides he’ll deal with it after sleeping.

“What the hell did you do??”

If the sound of Jason’s bedroom door violently hitting the wall didn’t wake Jason up then Stephanie’s indigent yelling would have done the job just fine.

“What the hell do you want?” Jason asks, then shoves a pillow over his head in the vain hopes she will go away.

“Get up!”

The covers are pulled from his body which wouldn’t be so bad if this didn’t also give Stephanie better access to punch him squarely in the stomach. Jason snarls, leaping out of bed to tackle Stephanie to the floor. They grapple around on the floor for a while, Stephanie succeeding in nailing Jason in the throat with an elbow and pinning him to the floor.

“What,” she says pointedly, “did you do to Tim??”

Jason wheezes, only half due to the pressure still on his throat. Stephanie stares down at him furiously.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jason says hoarsely.

Stephanie’s eyes narrow.

“Well, you better figure it out because he showed up at my apartment and has spent the entire morning moping under my blankets and obsessively redesigning Redbird on his tablet.”

Stephanie gets up in one smooth motion then offers a hand to help pull Jason up from the floor. Jason rubs at his sore throat giving Stephanie an incredulous look.

“I dunno what his problem is; he asked me to some fancy dinner and I just asked why he wasn’t asking you or whatever-”

“You what?”

“What! What did I do?”

“What did you do??” Stephanie shrieks in lieu of answering the question. “You have to be joking.”

When Jason just stares at her for a good minute Stephanie’s expression breaks and she starts laughing.

“Oh my god, please tell me you got dosed with something from Ivy or took a blow to the head recently,” she wheezes through her laughter. “Oh, noo, this is too stupid.”

“If you’ve figured out whatever is going on, could you clue me in?” Jason implores which only makes Stephanie laugh harder.

“Nope!” she says, popping the P, “this is too fucking funny. You’re on your own, bro.”

Before Stephanie leaves she makes sure to steal some of Jason’s leftovers and laugh at him some more, giving a two fingered salute as she leaves through the same window Tim had earlier that morning.

Over the course of the day Jason tries to busy himself cleaning his weapons and kitchen but he just end up stewing in the echoes of Stephanie’s laughter. He’s slumped on the couch rereading the same paragraph of a random paperback he’d grabbed when around four in the afternoon he receives a text from Cass that’s just a smiley face. It’s the only warning he gets before Tim comes stumbling through his window, laptop tucked under his arm.

“Okay, so, I’m still mad at you,” Tim starts, which is great, “but I want you to watch this.”

He sets his laptop down on Jason’s coffee table and maybe Jason can finally find out what this is all about.

On Tim’s laptop screen he opens what looks like a power-point presentation, and isn’t that just incredibly Tim, with the title: “Reasons We Make A Good Couple and Shouldn’t Break Up”.

Wait-

Back up.

“Break up??” Jason asks incredulously.

Tim’s head whips around to look at Jason, the slide on the screen changing to a picture of the two of them in uniform at the local 24 hour diner, probably taken by the waitress and posted on some social media platform, Tim reaching across the table to snag a piece of Jason’s bacon. It’s got several heart emojis all over it.

“You- yes? Isn’t that?” Tim sputters suddenly turning a bright shade of red.

“To break up don’t we have to date first?” Jason asks in a rush before his brain has really caught up with the situation.

Tim gets impossibly more red, muttering, “oh my fucking god,” while slamming the laptop shut. He runs a hand through his hair, looking as nervous and off kilter as Jason currently feels.

“I’m. I’m so sorry, Jay, I thought-” Tim starts rambling, words flowing together into an incoherent string while Jason’s brain tries desperately to parse what’s happening.

Like a lightbulb finally turning on in the middle of the night, Jason understands.

“Tim. Are we dating?”

Tim stops, jaw audibly snapping shut. He looks at Jason for all of two seconds before his gaze darts away miserably, looking at the floor.

“Yes?” he ventures, sounding unsure. “I just. I assumed you wanted to take it slow.”

Jason can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes his throat.

“Do I look like I do anything slow, Babybird?”

Tim growls in frustration, throwing his hands in the air and then pointing an accusing finger at Jason.

“We go out all the time! I hang out in your apartment! But whenever I’d try to initiate something more, you’d back off! I was trying to be considerate!”

Oh holy shit. Stephanie is right, this is stupid. Jason had thought he’d been projecting his own desires onto Tim, that there was no way Tim would want to be close to him like that. Even after all this time, Tim still finds ways to surprise Jason.

“Well, this explains why Stephanie punched and then started laughing at me this morning,” Jason laughs while draping an arm over his eyes. They really were Batman’s kids if their complete inability to communicate like normal people was anything to go by.

“God, Jason, I am so sorry,” Tim says, dropping down beside Jason on the couch with an oof. “I never should have assumed anything.”

“Hey, Babybird?” Jason shuffles over so he can throw his arm over Tim’s shoulders.

Tim startles, looking at Jason with wide blue eyes.

“Shut up and let me kiss you.”

Yeah, okay, maybe sometimes Jason is stupid. But he can at least find solace in the knowledge that sometimes Tim is also. Besides that, Jason tells himself, what really matters is that they got their shit together in the end. Even if that realization is undoubtedly going to come with a large amount of their family all pointing and laughing at them for being idiots.

“So,” Tim ventures after they’ve spent half an hour making out on Jason’s couch, “does this mean you’ll come with me to the dinner?”

Jason muffles a laugh against Tim’s collarbone and says, “yeah, sure I’ll come.”

“Okay, cool, cool. We’ve got to be there in an hour then.”

#jaytim #jaytim fanfiction #timjay #jason todd #tim drake #astrix writes #they're both stupid but they're my stupid boys #once again featuring some mild pining from Jason #i meant to post this like hours ago but i kept getting distracted by like everything #hope everyone had a cool valentines day regardless of relationship status #im gonna watch shrek the musical with my best friend now

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enchantcdstories · 2 years

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Float like a Butterfly- Part 1

Word Count: 3657

Content Warnings/tags: Seeing Marc and Steven’s costumes for the first time, Seeing Marc and Steven fight for the first time, Reader knows about Moon knight but just never got see him fighting, violence, harassment, slurs, this idea has probably been done before I’m sorry, Protective Steven and Marc, female reader, catcalling, swearing, suit porn, implied sexy times. (Gif was not made by me) Summary: Moon Knight and Mr. Knight don’t normally deal with thugs, but for you – they’d make an exception. Tag list: @later-gators12

[Y/N]

Hey! Just on my way home now. Had to work a bit of overtime to help close. I’m just walking to the bus stop now- should be ten minutes away <3

[Steven’s Phone]

Alright, Love! Be safe, yeah? Got dinner all ready and waiting. <#

[Steven’s Phone]

I meant <$

[Steven’s Phone]

<3. Got it.

You breathed out a laugh to yourself as you pressed the button on the side of your phone, locking it and sliding it into your pocket. The bus stop wasn’t too far away, just down the road a little bit, but the empty road seemed to stretch for hours in your eyes. No cars, no people, not even lit up houses. It all seemed so eerily empty. The sun had set hours ago, and the only source of light was the overhead lamp post that tinted everything a sickening orange color.

You pulled your jacket a bit tighter around your shoulders, the bite of the cold London air chilling you to your core. Only a few more minutes and then you’d be sitting in a warm bus, you thought, looking both ways across the empty street before jogging lightly to the bus stop. The darkness was a bit unnerving, the entire scene ahead of you playing out the start of every cookie cutter horror movie out there. Nervously, you took out your phone, tapping at a few apps in hopes to try and distract you from the void of people around you. You’ve done this route before, you thought, plenty of times. Then that small voice in the back of your head reminded you that it was never this late at night.

After several minutes and no bus later, you opened the app that told you the various bus times, and a frown slid onto your face, your heart plummeting into your stomach. The bus was running behind, much more than you were comfortable with. It would take you a lot longer to get home now. For a moment, you wondered if you should listen to music to distract you. Steven made you a spotify playlist ‘in case you ever missed him’ with some songs thrown in by Marc here or there, but you kept your earbuds in your bag. Something about wanting to stay alert in scenarios like these. You heard a noise from down the street, causing you to jump and grip your bag and phone tighter. You couldn’t make out if it was people or the wind – maybe a car?

Peeking down the road, you checked to see if maybe, by some grace of God, you could see the bus’s headlights approaching. Seeing nothing, you huffed and refreshed the app and sighing at the words ‘bus delayed’ still glowing up from the screen. You thrust the phone back into your pocket and bounce a bit, trying to keep the blood flowing in the cold air. You were starting to shiver now. Another noise down the street caught your attention, this time it was very clearly people: footsteps slapping against the cement and boisterous laughter.

You jumped again at the buzzing feeling in your pocket, your phone signalling a notification to you. Sighing in relief that you didn’t feel so alone on this street now, thanks to your phone, you pressed the side button and your face was washed in the glow of the screen. Two missed texts appeared. You must have missed it in all your shivering. One from Steven, asking where you were about five minutes ago, and a new one from Marc, asking if you were okay. Your finger hovered over the reply button, already drafting a reply about how sorry you were and how cold you were and how you just wanted the bus to arrive, when the footsteps you heard earlier got louder. It made your blood run cold.

Looking up, you could make out three figures, swaying and laughing as they made their way down the street to you, clearly drunk and out of their own minds. They were cackling and leaning on each other, swaggering this way and that with several paper bag wrapped bottles in their hands. They seemed to have spotted you, their laughter suddenly getting louder and their gestures now directed more to you. Remembering to text Marc back suddenly vanished from your mind, the task ignored all together.

“H-hello there, love… Whatcha…Whatcha doin’ out here all by yourself?” The man in the front, with a black knit cap and a black jacket, called out to you, swaying and giggling to himself. You offer him a small smile before lowering your head down and hoping that he’d walk past you. Your heart raced and you began to sweat despite the cold. You refused to become another statistic. The footsteps got closer and closer before you could practically feel the group of guys next to you. The smell of alcohol practically oozed off of them and filled the air, making your nose wrinkle. The knit cap guy blinked at you, as if expecting an answer.

“Babydoll, I’m talking to ya, yeah? Don’t you feel like talking?” You angled yourself so you were facing away from him, trying your best to just ignore him – maybe, if you were lucky, he’d go away. The hand on your shoulder that felt rough even through a jacket said otherwise. You jerked your shoulder away from him, spinning on your heel and taking a step back. Knit cap man’s friends seemed to get amusement out of this, snickering to themselves as if testing you.

“Don’t touch me.” You grit out, trying not to show too much emotion that they could pick up on. Knit cap guy laughed, looking back to his friends (whom you now named brown scarf guy and green jacket guy) and cackled– a harsh and cruel laugh.

“Little bitch is picky, eh? Don’t like that, now do I?” He asked his buddies, who were leaning on the brick wall next to them and glaring at you. “Think we need to teach her some manners, eh?” He reached again for you, this time with more force and determination in the way his body moved. You skittered away from his grip, heart slamming in your chest with fear.

“I said don’t–”

“She said not to touch her, mate.” You recognize that voice, nearly instantly you could practically see what face Steven was making even by the sound of his voice. Turning around revealed, however, that it wasn’t your curly haired boy, but someone else entirely. Where warm brown eyes should have greeted you, bright white glowing ones sat in their place. His normal tropical shirt was replaced with a crisp white suit and tie, with the pants to match. A white fabric mask covered his whole head. You took a step backwards, a bit jarred by the sight in front of you, bumping into knit cap guy in the process.

“Easy babygirl, I- I got you.” The man wrapped his arms around you, the smell of alcohol stinging your nose now with how bad he smelled. You grunted as you moved, struggling to push the man off without getting his stench on you or letting him get a handful of anything. The figure that you swore Steven’s voice just came out of seemed to pause, tilting his head as if he were listening to something before blinking. The crisp, white suit was soon fading from view, replaced instead by old and dirtier looking wrappings carefully making their way around the figure’s shoulders and face, his arms and torso. A hood seemingly came out of no where, enveloping his head as the same glowing eyes remained, a cape flowed out behind him and flapped in the light, brisk wind. You balked for a moment, confused and intrigued at the same time. In your eyes, he looked very similar to a mummy in a museum.

The caped figure grabbed the man’s arms around you, ripping them off of you and twisting one of them back. The man’s scream echoed out into the air, jolting you to full attention and sending a shiver down your spine. You danced out of the way, behind the caped crusader, watching in both relief and horror as he wrestled with the knit cap guy. The drunkard’s friends seemed to want to get in on the situation as well, rolling up sleeves and smashing open liquor bottles to use as makeshift weapons. You weren’t entierly sure if you were dreaming this or not.

It all looked like a choreographed fight in a movie, the way the white mummified figure moved with such skill and grace, darting about as he avoided punches and delivered ones in return. Logic dictated that maybe perhaps you should turn away and call Marc to come pick you up, to get as far away from the scene as possible; but then another wondered if you’d need to describe this scene to the cops in the future. The man pushed one of the drunk men’s heads into the nearby lamppost, the resulting clang echoing down the street, making you wince.

As you watched all the commotion,, you had let your guard down a little– not noticing one of the drunk guy’s buddies making his way for you in some sort of revenge fit. You noticed only at the last moment, turning to run from the offending man in some sort of weak attempt at a get away before he grabbed your wrist. You could practically feel it bruising.

“So what, are you that freak’s toy that he wants to protect or something?” He spat out, his voice coarse and growling. You didn’t even have to pull away before you felt the man release his grip. It all happened so fast, that the next thing you saw was his body hit the pavement a few yards away. The fighting had stopped, you realized, the street going back to its eerily silent self, minus the buzz of the street lamp. Blinking, you stared at the scene in front of you; three bodies lying in various positions on the pavement with the white cloaked figure standing over them, his cape dramatically billowing behind him as he glared at the men on the ground. You opened your mouth before closing it, gaping like a fish as you struggled to form works. What do you say in a situation like this? Thank you for beating the shit out of those guys, where do you get your suit dry cleaned? The figure turned to you, body in a more relaxed and less menacing (well, about as much as he could) position.

“Are you alright?” He stayed a good foot away from you, but even then you could recongize his voice. It wasn’t Steven, like you had heard before, but suddenly it made sense as to why you might have thought that.

“Marc? W-what..” The hood and mask that concealed Marc’s face vanished, revealing his stern looking expression that you grew to love so much. You’d kiss that expression off his face some nights. His face wore a look of concern after he got a hold on his bearings. Everything in your mind clicked and made sense. You knew he did ‘superhero’ things – Steven’s words, not Marc’s. You knew he took care of people who did evil, evil, things; but you hadn’t ever assumed he had some sort of super suit, like he was some Avenger. Marc had insisted you never see this side of him, his ‘work’, to protect you.

“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Marc asked, glancing around as if he were expecting more to come out of the shadows at any moment. You shook your head, looking over your body for a moment just to make sure.

“N-no they…you got here just in time. Or Steven did? Was that…was that Steven? Is this the suit?” You suddenly had a million questions spill from your mouth now that your shaken up brain had settled. Marc took one last look at his handiwork and grabbed you by the arm – his touch much more gentler than that of the drunk guys who were now on the ground – and pulled you out of the street from public view. He walked with purpose, and even seemed taller in this suit than he would in his street clothes.

“Look,” he started, rubbing a gloved hand over his face. You could sense he hadn’t wanted you to find out this way. “I know this looks bad, but you didn’t answer your texts and Steven was worried and –” You made him stop mid sentence as you let your eyes wander over the chest of his suit, getting to really see it for the first time. You had to admit that you had a bit of a thing for men in suits, super suits included.

You were correct in the bandages department, a tough linen and armor combination that bulked him out. It travelled along his whole body, though it was nicely designed. You couldn’t help but run your hands along him – a move that normally got you shoved into the bed with a laugh – moving to inspect his hands as you flipped them over and back up to his chest.

“You’ve been hiding this from me? You have a super cool superhero suit and you’ve just been hiding it from me?” You say, eyes still lingering over his chest. Marc flushed as he let your hands roam his body, trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

“I wouldn’t say it’s cool… its more a required– What are you doing?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You let a breathy laugh out from your lips, your cheeks flushed from the cold and your fingers starting to freeze just a bit.

“I think I’m just in shock from what happened, but this is…insanely cool.” The rest of the world melted around you as you forgot about the men lying on the ground just out of sight. Your hands were both resting on his pecs– in the bedroom you’d be making a tongue in cheek comment about what great tits he had. You fingernail tapped on the metal moon shaped figure embedded into his chest.

“What’s this do?”

“Mainly kill people.”

“Oh.” You take your hands off of it, as if it had shocked you in that instant. Marc chuckled and reached up, sliding it out of the little holder and handing it to you. It was heavy and well weighted, a shimmery gold with heiroglyphics carved into the middle of it. Marc cleared his throat, watching you with an amused look in his eyes.

“The suit was a gift from uh–”

“Bird brain, I know.”

“Maybe don’t say that to his face, not like you can.”

You gave the little moon back to him, handing it over gently and letting your fingers overlap with his for just a lingering moment. You had more questions still acting as a battering ram in the back of your head.

“Your eyes, how did you do the…glowing thing?” Marc gave a joking sigh, giving you a bemused look as you grinned up at him. In an instant the hood and mask came back, the glowing eyes beaming in all their glory. You grin, the eyes alone giving a million questions. Could he see properly with that?

“It’s a little unnerving.” You admit with a laugh, though it soon disappears when you glance over to the direction of the bus stop. “Those people…are they…?”

“Do you wanna know?”

“Not really.”

Marc looked off to the side for a moment, catching his reflection in a puddle just to your side. He looked as if he were nodded to himself, listening to something.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.” He mumbled to the reflection, before drawing his attention back to you. He put a hand on your cheek, the soft linen rubbing against your skin. “I’ll see you around?” Now it was your turn to look confused.

“What?” You asked, watching as before your eyes the suit Marc was wearing– hood and all– vanished from sight, replaced instead by the crisp formal white suit that you had seen earlier. The eyes still glowed familiarly, scrunching up in what looked like a smile before dropping back to their wide, concerned look.

“Are you alright, love? Those guys looked right dodgy…” Steven’s voice broke the silence, glowing eyes searching your form to see if he could spot any injuries. You placed both of your hands on his suit, rubbing the soft fabric beneath your fingertips.

“I knew it was you back there…” You murmured, hands tracing over his neatly done up tie. Even that had heiroglyphics printed onto it. Steven’s gloved hands cover yours, adjusting his tie a bit. He puffed out his chest, as if he was showing off his costume to you like a bird showing off his plumage.

“Cool, innit? Bit more sophisticated than Marc’s.”

Grinning, you carefully lifted a hand to his featureless face, thumb rubbing over his cheek. It felt odd to look into eyes that held no expression and only glowed back at you, a mask that had no mouth and you could only pick out where his nose was. It looked tough, intimidating in a way. Steven’s hands once again covered yours;, his hands were warm, you realized.

“Still me, love. Still Marc too.” He hummed, thumb rubbing over your hand. You bit your lip to keep from grinning all the time.

“It’s weird. A good weird. You protected me.” Steven’s mask melted away under your touch, his gentle gaze looking down at you as his face nuzzled into your hand. You felt butterflies dance around in your stomach looking at those chocolate brown eyes again.

“Thank you,” you spoke softly to him, taking a step forward to be as close to him as possible. “For saving me. Both you and Marc.” A red flush creeped up onto Steven’s cheeks, eyes bearing into you with all the love and adoration he could muster.

“It’s nothing, really. You weren’t texting back, yeah? And I just…well Marc too but.. My gut instinct just told me something…bad was happening.” Steven looked over to the direction where the men on the ground were still laying. “I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that. You don’t deserve that, love.”

You cut him off before he could apologize again for something he couldn’t control, leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek sweetly. “I’m fine, honestly babe. I’ve got a superhero to protect me now. Maybe I’ll start getting into trouble to see him more often.” You winked, smiling widely. Steven eyes lit up and his own laugh burst from his lips.

“Has Marc told you what his superhero name is? The name Khonshu gave him?” He looked like a giddy child, practically bouncing from foot to foot. You gave a faux gasp, letting your hand fall to your side.

“He has *not*. Fess up, what is it?” You ask, playing into how happy he was about this new information. Steven paused for a moment, looking just over your shoulder.

Normally, you couldn’t see when an alter fronted. It was an invisible moment that you had learned to pick up on, a moment you continued to keep sacred and as stress free as possible. Now, however, you could *see* the switch happening. You had realized it before, but now it made more sense. Steven’s neatly pressed suit transformed back to Marc’s, the wrappings flying over each limb and inch of him to secure to him. Marc’s face remained uncovered, but the stern eyebrows had returned.

“Hey, did you know I can fly like this?” Marc asked, his question clearly trying to distract you from the conversation you and Steven were having. You blink as you got your bearings as to what was going on. Sometimes even the boys moved too quick for you to keep up.

“Did you force Steven out so he wouldn’t tell me?” You put your hands on your hips like a scolding parent.

“Do you want to fly or not?” He asked, getting a bit impatient and annoyed. You shook your head, grinning.

“Not until you tell me.” You weren’t going to back down on this. Marc let out a tired sigh, running a hand over his face as you looked at him with anticipation.

“I work under Khonshu as his Moon Knight.” He sounded a little embarrassed, despite his gruff exterior. A snort escaped your mouth as your hands flew up to cover it. You had to admit, it was a little silly. Marc shot you a ‘less-than-thrilled’ look at your reaction.

“And Steven does he..also..work under that name?” You gave a slight cough to hide the laugh that bubbled from your throat. You blinked in surprise as Steven fronted yet again, rapidly switching the costume each time.

“Mr. Knight, thank you very much. More formal, innit?” The sound of voices coming from the street over, where you were just nearly attacked, causing a spike of anxiety to course through your veins. Steven’s hand flew to your arm, as if he was prepared to throw you behind him in a split second.

“We should go,” he said, not waiting for an answer before dragging you along the side road towards the direction of the flat. His mask had formed back around his head, muffling his voice as he spoke. “‘Fraid I can’t fly yet, Marc said he’ll teach me though. Dinner will be cold too, I’m afraid.” He looked back around to you before letting his whole costume fade away, revealing one of his goofy tropical shirts that he always wore. You slid your hand into his properly, feeling his warm touch pull you along.

“So,” you started, taking a few extra strides to keep up with him. “Does this mean if I marry you…will I be Mrs. Knight?”

#Moon Knight #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Marc Spector x female reader #Steven Grant x female reader

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hugmetightlyx · 2 years

Text

My beautiful knight in shining armor

@cutapie asked:

Hiiiiiiiiii, can i request a pietro x fem!reader fic ????? Like pietro has been kidnapped by HYDRA and he keeps talking about his awesome girlfriend to the guards and shit and gets saved by the reader. :))

Note from xe: this is such a cute request omg how I've missed my speedy boy

Posted February 21st, 2022

Summary: who needs a knight in shining armor when they have Y/n?

Translations (courtesy of google translations): blbci = idiots. shithole = hovno. My beautiful knight in shining armor = môj krásny rytier v žiarivej zbroji. Darling = miláčik.

masterlist

word count: 0.8k

Pietro had been kidnapped exactly 13 hours 3 minutes and 27 seconds ago.

He had a timer going in his head.

Piet knew what the outcome of this eventful night would be, and he didn’t shut up about it for even a split second.

“You know, my girlfriend, she is a very powerful woman. It's probably a big part of why I fell in love with her to begin” Pietro smiled at the guard in front of him.

“I don’t care why you fell in love with your girlfriend,” The guard glared at the silver-haired bastard.

“Well, I am just making a point for you to think about later, when she kicks ass, more specifically, your ass.” Pietro’s words didn’t budge the guard, and Pietro didn’t mind that, it wasn’t his goal.

“I’m just saying, her all-time record is 15 hours,”

“All-time record? What the hell are you talking about, Maximoff?”

“That’s how long it took her to find me last time, ya know that last time you blbci tried to keep me for information.” At the end of Pietro’s sentence, he spat the blood from the cut in his mouth onto the guard’s shoe, earning a hit in return.

Pietro groaned in response, glaring up at the man.

“Gettin’ real tired of that stupid accent of yours, Maximoff” Pietro merely rolled his eyes at the words that meant nothing to him at this point. Having heard it time and time again.

“I don’t see what that has to do with my girlfriend hurting you,” Pietro’s words were quieter this time, having noticed the vent on the wall behind the guard opening.

He kept his eyes trained on the asshole in front of him, making sure he didn’t suspect anything going on behind him.

Pietro put the pieces together in his head, not paying attention to whatever shit the guard was spewing.

~~~

“Pietro has been in there for nearly 14 hours, Rogers, I need to get him out,” Y/n said from the quinjet that was currently using the cloaking mechanism to watch over the base the rebel HYDRA agents were holding Pietro.

“Well, luckily for you, we’ve finally mapped out a plan,” Natasha’s words caused Y/n to release the breath she wasn’t aware she was holding.

“What do you need me to do, Nat?”

The plan was fairly simple, they had guards outside every entrance to the building, and they sure as hell would have some posted outside whatever room they had been holding Pietro in.

So, Natasha and Sam would silently take out the guards standing in the back entrance allowing Y/n just enough time to sneak in through the vents and find Piet.

She followed the sounds of the oh-so-familiar sokovian accent that she had grown to love.

Looking in through the small lines through the square that led into the small room. Y/n winced when the guard hit Piet. Earning a groan and a slick comment from Pietro that nearly made Y/n laugh.

~~~

“I have a bet with my sister, you’ve heard of her, I am sure, yes?” Pietro eyed the guard, attempting to distract him as the girl silently moved the little door to the vent and started to map out the best way to get down in her head.

“Yes, I’ve heard of Wanda Maximoff.” The exhausted tone in the man’s voice caused Pietro to let out a quiet chuckle before he continued.

“Well, she and I, we have a bet and if my girlfriend can get me out of this hovno before the 15th-hour hits, I get 20 dollars.”

“You two bet on how long it would take for your girlfriend to find you and save you?” boom.

The sound of the wooden board smacking against the guard’s head was all Pietro needed to hear to know that he had just won that bet.

“môj krásny rytier v žiarivej zbroji.” Y/n smiled at the boy before rushing to untie the ropes around his wrists and ankles.

“Is there anything you can do about these, miláčik?” Pietro asked, holding up his wrists that not only were bruised from the rope but also covered with handcuffs that basically served as a turn-off button for his powers.

“No, I’m sorry, but I’m sure Bruce and Tony could get them off, let’s go home.” Y/n quickly said something into her comms before she started thinking about how she was gonna get Piet out of here without his speed.

Pietro looked back at the unconscious guard before turning his attention to his girlfriend, watching as she moved the metal chair that Piet had been sitting in over to the wall by the vent she had just come through.

“Well, he didn’t see that coming”

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro x reader #marvel imagines #pietro maximov #pietro x y/n #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader

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drkinns · 6 years

Photo

Aes for princess miu who recently was asked out by prince korekiyo shinguuji?

♡ ♡

There you go Miu! I really enjoyed making this so thank you for requesting!

-mod Tsumugi ♡

#miu iruma kin #iruma miu kin #miu iruma #korekiyo shinguji kin #ndrv3 kin #dr kin #dr kin aesthetic #kin aesthetic #mod tsumugi #mugi edits #i meant to post this like an hour ago but kept getting distracted oops

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shigarakis-cumdump · 3 years

Text

An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra.

Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies

Word count: 1.9k

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.

“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.

“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.

“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!

“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.

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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.

Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.

Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”

“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .

“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.

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Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.

Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.

It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!

“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.

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You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.

A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier! Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!

It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.

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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.

#shigaraki #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere #stalker shigaraki #an unhealthy obsession #no smut #drabble #shigarakithirst

680 notes · View notes

maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Breathe With Me

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: After finding out who hurt you on that horrific night, JJ helps you through another panic attack and makes plans to protect his girl.

Note: This was requested a long time ago after a chapter of my rewrite was posted! Instead of doing JJ x OC, like requested, I changed it to JJ x Reader so that people who don’t read my rewrite can enjoy it too. Hopefully this is okay with ya’ll.

Word Count: 3.5k

WARNINGS: Sexual Assault!!! This chapter has descriptions of sexual assault. Please do not read if this is TRIGGERING!!!!

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

Masterlist

It was another regular day on the island. Hot and crowded with tourists. With everyone working, you decided to tag along with JJ and Pope to delivery groceries for Heyward’s business. Usually this meant going to Figure Eight, your least favorite place to be. Normally it didn’t creep you out too much, but because of a rather recent incident, you didn’t like being there.

Right after your dad went missing, you spent a lot of time with Kie as she lived out her Kook Year. Avoiding the Pogues and John B and surrounding yourself with stuck up assholes and their expensive drugs and alcohol helped you forget about your own family crisis. You would do anything to take your mind off your dad’s disappearance even if it meant getting high on whatever was offered to you. You didn’t ask twice about what it was. You figured if the rich people we’re doing it, it couldn’t be that bad right?

One night you did a long line surrounded by Rafe and a couple of his buddies. Pretty much everything after that was a blur. Your memories are fuzzy, like a puzzle piece you can’t piece together. The last thing you remember is your black hitting something soft, like a mattress or a pillow. You thought you heard the zipper of your shorts being pulled down but figured it was Kie helping you change into a pair of pajamas.

The next morning you woke up practically naked with a blanket covering your bottom half and your bra pulled down to your stomach. You began to panic and ran your hands down your side, flinching at the tenderness by your hips. The skin was yellow/green and getting ready to bruise. Your breathing became shallow and your throat tightened up. You fumbled around the room you didn’t recognize for your clothes and slid them on, not caring what was backwards or inside out. You stumbled out the door and tip toed down the long staircase of the large house you were in. Figure Eight, you thought.

You didn’t go home first. You went to Kie’s house. Because your body ached. Because you wanted to cry but didn’t want John B or the other boys to hear you. Because you were afraid to be naked around anyone but another girl. The second she opened the door, you sobbed into her arms and told her what you think happened to you. Kie tried to get you to go to the police or even the hospital, but you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone knowing about what happened. Not even a stranger. Because you were embarrassed. You blamed yourself for this happening to you. You were high as fuck, trying to forget about your family troubles. You were the one to make yourself weak and vulnerable. No one else. Someone just took advantage of the position you put yourself in.

Kie didn’t pressure you. She wanted to support you in whatever decision you made, despite wanting justice for you and sending whoever the sleaze bag was to jail. She sat on the toilet and talked to you as you showered slowly. You spent most of the time staring at the wall and feeling ever inch of your body. You felt so dirty and no amount of soap or scrubbing could make you feel any cleaner.

You stayed at her house for a couple of days until John B eventually texted her because he was worried. You both decided it was time for you to go home, but you never told them what happened. You were afraid of what John B and even JJ would do if they found out. And the last thing you wanted was for either of them to get hurt or in trouble.

John B didn’t notice something was off as much as JJ did. He could tell you were being more quiet and reserved than usual. Your usual style of crop tops and jean shorts changed to sweats and baggy t shirts. You slept with your door locked and didn’t touch a single can of beer since you came home.

Moving on from that night was a slow and gruesome process, one you don’t know if you’ll ever fully recover form. Luckily for you, JJ was a great distracter. He was an amazing story teller, he could make you laugh with a small hand gesture, and his laugh could draw you in for hours. No one was surprised when the two of you eventually started dating. Not even John B, who was a little apprehensive about it at first.

To JJ, everything came to light when another make out session became heated. Like that morning, it became hard to breathe and your mind wandered off to what could have happened to you that night. In a blink of an eye, you were back in Figure Eight with someone pulling your zipper down. You could physically feel the bruises on your hips again and your skin burning.

A panic attack emerged and JJ was left confused and lost. Fortunately for you, he was quick to realize something was seriously wrong and helped you through it. He breathed with you and talked you down. When you were calm, you explained what happened. At first he was pissed. Pissed at whoever could have done this to you and even a little bit at you and Kie for keeping this from him. He was ready to charge out of the house, grab John B, and find the sick son of a bitch who would touch an unconscious girl. But your cries stopped him. He’s never heard pain in your voice like he did that night. It physically cracked his heart into a million little pieces and he dropped every instinct he had and stayed with you instead.

Since then, he’s been the most supportive and protective boyfriend. At every boneyard party, he would keep an eye out for any Kook that decided to show their face on your turf. He took note of anyone looking at you in a weird way. He carried the gun he stole from Scooter in his backpack for protection. He was serious about using it too. No one touches his girl and gets away with it.

Luckily, nothing happened between JJ and any Kook. No one made a move to talk to you or tease you. Kooks kept their usual distance from you, which not only made you feel better for yourself but because you didn’t want something to happen to JJ. You know the rules of the game of this island. Nothing bad ever happens to Kooks. They don’t know consequences.

When Pope docks his boat, he asks if you would come with him to drop groceries off at the Thorntons. If he did it alone, it would cause two trips and he doesn’t want to waste time.

As you go to agree, JJ steps in and shakes his head as he looks between you two. “I don’t think thats a good idea.”

“Why not?” Pope asks, completely clueless.

You subtly shake your head, silently begging for JJ not to say anything. Pope and John B still didn’t know and you want to keep it that way. Sure you would feel safer with JJ by your side, but you won’t be alone. You will be with Pope. And who would try to start something in the middle of the day anyway?

“It’s fine, J,” You tell him. You even try to joke. “I’m sure you’ll survive one hour without me.”

When you kiss his cheek, JJ turns to look at you with his brows pinched together with worry. “Y/N...”

“Seriously, J...” You say. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You whisper that last part as Pope turns to get the bags.

“You have your phone?”

You nod and pull it out of your pocket to show him. “Yes. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

As JJ walks in the opposite direction of you and Pope, you feel the tension in your shoulders get tighter. The sight of these homes gives you flashbacks. The worst part about all of this is you don’t even know who hurt you. It could’ve been anyone - a touron even. It would be easier to know who did it so you know who to avoid.

Pope notices your change in behavior but doesn’t mention it. Instead he keeps a silent eye on you and studies your every movement.

As you pass the golf course, you hear a couple cat calls and cheering from a group of teenagers. When you look up, you see Rafe, Topper, and one of their friends making their way over to you. You take a step behind Pope, hiding behind his body and keeping your eyes trained down on your shoes.

“What do we have here?” Rafe whistles as he comes closer. He looks down at the bags in your arms and the beer in Pope’s hand. “Bring us something?”

“These are already paid for,” Pope glares at them.

“Oh, right, right,” Rafe nods as if he understands. Then he takes is golf club and swings it at the brown paper bag in Pope’s arms, causing everything to spill out of it.

“Dude!”

“Sorry, man!” Rafe holds his hands up in fake surrender. He leans down to pick up a beer bottle and tosses it to his tall friend. “Trevor, you feeling thirsty?”

The guy, better known as Trevor, cracks the beer open and takes a long sip. When he looks down, he spots you and eyes your figure up and down. Then he smirks to himself and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. Like a piece of meat or someone he knows too much of.

Rafe catches his eye and smirks to himself. “Ah, yeah. I forgot. You and Routledge have some history.”

Pope looks over his shoulder at you and sees your chest rising and dropping at a quicker pace. You’re gripping the bags in your hands so tight that he can see your knuckles turning white. You look away from the group of Kooks at the golf course with a frown on your face. Something was wrong, Pope thought.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Trevor chuckles. He looks at you again and tilts his head. “What? You don’t remember me?”

“Pope...” You feel like you’re choking. How could he know you when you have no idea who he is? You don’t like where this is going.

Trevor continues, “Can’t say I blame you. You were out of your mind wasted that night -”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Pope says, looking between you and Trevor. He wasn’t one to get confrontational or angry, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like how you were acting. Something wasn't adding up. He knew you’ve hooked up with Kooks before, but this one was different.

“Almost as dead as her daddy,” Rafe chuckles. Something in Pope snaps and he pushes Rafe back by his shoulders. In retaliation, Rafe raises his golf club and smacks it against the middle of Pope’s back, causing him to fall down with a thump.

“Pope!” You cry and drop the bags you were holding and kneel next to him.

“Hey,” Trevor touches your shoulder to try and pull you away from the two fighting boys, but you flinch away from him.

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” You cry.

Trevor immediately holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back. Your outburst causes everyone to freeze in their movements, even Rafe and Pope. The wheels in Topper’s head start to move a little quicker too. He looks between you and Trevor and feels off about your connection. You looked terrified. And Y/N Routledge was almost never terrified.

Even though you are outside, you feel claustrophobic. Your heart is beating so heavily against your ribcage that you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to break your ribs. Pope notices you’re two shades paler and having a hard time breathing. Tears are silently falling down your face and you continue to crawl away form the group of Kooks backwards.

“Y/N...” Pope says quietly.

“We should go,” Topper says. He never hated you like some of the other Kooks did. Sure you never got along, but a small part of him thought you were cool. He knew something was extremely wrong and he couldn’t help but think it had to do with their friend, Trevor. He looks at Rafe who continues to stare at you with surprise. “Dude.”

“Yeah...” Rafe says slowly. “Trev, let’s go.”

The three Kooks scatter back to the golf course. You squeeze your eyes tightly and grip the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your body because right now it just feels suffocating.

“Hey.” Pope crouches down near you and lightly touches your shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock, making you flinch even further away. When you open your eyes, you’re back in some random Kook’s house on a mattress you’re unfamiliar with. “They’re gone. Hey, they’re gone.” Pope tries to be gentle with you, but he also wants to get you out of here and in a more comfortable setting.

“JJ,” You manage to say. Your throat feels on fire. “I need J-”

Pope immediately starts fumbling for his cell phone and dials his best friend’s number. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently listens to the ringing. “Come on. Come on.”

JJ answers. “Hey! Sorry I’m on my way back now. You’ll never believe how much this lady tipped me. I swear I’m coming on every -”

“JJ, shut up and listen to me. Y/N...” He glances back at you and sees you’re hunched over with your forehead resting on your knees and your fingers through your hair. “She’s having a panic attack or something. I - I don’t -”

“Where are you?” JJ’s once elated tone has dropped to a more serious one.

Pope tries explaining what part of the golf course they are near.

“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes. Pope, get her under some shade or something. And if you can, try to get her to look at you. She needs to open her eyes to see where she is.” Pope nods, forgetting that JJ can’t see him. “Pope!”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Okay, doing that now.”

JJ hangs up the phone so he can run faster.

Meanwhile, Pope crouches down in front of you again and says, “Y/N/N, hey. Can you open your eyes?” Pope lightly taps your ankles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” You slowly blink your eyes open and sniffle back the tears. Pope smiles when he sees he’s made some sort of progress. “Hey. JJ’s on his way. Why don’t we move you under some shade? It’s getting pretty hot out here. Can I help you up?”

You nod and let Pope help you up and bring you a couple feet away under a large tree. Your back rests against the bark and you try taking deep breaths to calm the swirling nausea in your stomach.

It was Trevor. It had to be Trevor. From the way he looked at you, to the innuendo Rafe made. You knew in your heart that it was Trevor who had hurt you that night.

A part of you always wanted to know who did this, but another part of you wished you never figured it out. Because now his face will haunt you forever.

About a minute later, you hear another set of footsteps quickly coming your way. You panic, your immediate thought going to Trevor. Would he come back?

But then you hear your boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey.” His tone is soft and gentle. “Hey, baby. Look at me. It’s JJ.” You open your eyes and meet the lovely blue one’s you fell in love with. He grins at you and takes your hands in his.

“I’m so - sorry,” You sob, suddenly hating yourself for bringing this back up to your boyfriend and ruining Pope’s work routine. “I - I -”

“Hey,” JJ says and pulls your hands to his chest, palms down. “Remember what we did last time? Match my breathing, okay? Ready? Take a deep breath.”

Pope watches with awe silently from the sidelines. He’s never seen this side of either one of you. You so panic stricken and scared, JJ so intent with concern and intuitive.

You follow JJ’s breathing until you feel calm enough to breathe on your own. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” JJ shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You look down at your hands that are folded in your lap. You want to tell him. Of course you want to tell him. But you’re afraid of what happens next. You’re afraid of how JJ will respond.

“Rafe, Topper, and their friend Trevor jumped us,” Pope answers for you. Like JJ, he’s also curious about what happened. Of course he was there for the physical breakdown, but he wants to know more about what you’re going through emotionally.

“Did they hurt you?” JJ looks back at you and inspects every inch of your open skin for signs of scratches or bruises.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then...”

“I know who it was,” You say, your voice as soft as a whisper.

“What? You mean. -” JJ’s head snaps back and forth between you and Pope. “Who?”

You dip your chin into your chest to hide your tears as they start to flow again. You take a deep breath and look back up at your boyfriend. “Trevor.”

“Who the fuck is Trevor?” JJ looks at Pope.

Pope shrugs, “I don’t know. He was golfing with the other two Kooks.”

“Where’d they go?” JJ stands up, causing both you and Pope to follow him.

“No, JJ -” You try to pull him back to you but he slips his wrist out of your grip.

“JJ!” Pope calls out to JJ who walks in the direction the other three disappeared to.

“JJ, stop!” Your voice cracks which makes JJ turn around to look at you. “Please. I just want to go home.”

JJ freezes and bites down on his bottom lip, feeling conflicted. His head is telling him to run after the Kooks and beat every single one of their faces in until he finds the one named Trevor. But his heart is telling him to walk back to you and take care of you.

“Okay,” he decides and wraps his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After you fall asleep later that night, JJ tip toes out of your room and silently shuts your door behind him. You passed out early, exhausted from the panic attacks and crying. In the living room, Pope, Kie, and John B are waiting. You had no other choice but to tell John B what happened. Now that Pope knew, it felt wrong keeping it from your brother as well. Of course it caused an argument, but in the end, John B only wants the best for you and to protect you. Which is why they’re here now.

“Ready to go?” JJ looks directly at your brother.

John B holds up his car keys. “Let’s go.”

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Kie grabs John B by the elbow and glares at both of them.

“Where do you think?” JJ says.

When Pope and Kie stepped out of the room to check on you, JJ and John B both secretly decided that when you fell asleep, the two of them would sneak out and find this Trevor person and give him what he deserves.

“Don’t be stupid,” Pope says, looking between the two. “You know how this works. The two of you end up getting in trouble and he gets to walk away clean.”

“I don’t care. I’ll kill him -”

“You can’t,” Kie says.

“I’m not asking for your permission, Kie!”

“Where’s the gun?” Kie says. “If you’re going to do this, I’m not letting you bring the gun. Leave it here.”

JJ looks up at John B who reluctantly nods his head for JJ to give it up. The blonde sighs and reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls it out.

“This is a bad idea,” Pope says again even though he knows the other two don’t give a shit. In a way, he kind of respects it. He would go to if he didn’t have a scholarship to worry about.

“Keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” John B says.

“You better hope you are. Because if you’re not, you’re only going to be making this worse for her,” Kie tells them.

Kie’s words have both John B and JJ rethinking their decision. But only for a split second.

JJ nods. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave my girl behind.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj fic #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine

1K notes · View notes

2jaeh · 3 years

Text

ORPHIC : YUTA X READER

genre: smut, angst

warnings: mature themes, enemies to lovers kinda, kinda toxic theme, multiple smut scenes, swearing, alcohol, toys.

slight jenoxreader

word count : 17,5k (sorrry he’s my ult)

author: sin!

You and Yuta never had a good relationship within your group of friends. The closest the two of you ever came to even slightly caring about each other was...in bed. After some friendly advice you decide to venture out of this toxicity and an old friend comes to the rescue. Thinking things will finally settle and you are ready to move on, Yuta comes to the realization that he wasn't a fan of you leaving him for someone else.

A/N: WHOA this took me so long to write and rn its 2am and I barely proofread anything and just wanted to post it already! ALSO I just wanted to add Jeno is practically my ult as well and I wanted to use him for this scenario ! I promise Ill make it up to you guys with a full length fic of him lol Anyways enjoy.

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You couldn’t understand why you hated him so much. Was it the way he did his hair ? The way he rolled his eyes at every snarky remark you directed at him ?

Or was it the way he stared at you from across the room, a smirk on his face signaling that it was going to be one of those nights.

You joined this collective of artists or the “blank space” as you were known to the public, a year ago. The team did everything from clothing to organizing crazy exhibitions, and the best part of it all was that the team members remained anonymous.

Now some of the members were already in the spotlight for their personal artworks and collections but anything under blank space was under that name only, promoted only under its respective social media accounts. The collective was founded by Taeyong, an introverted guy you met at a fashion show you once worked at. He approached you the night your art hit the runway and you’ve been working for him ever since.

You didn’t know everybody under Blank Space except for the people Taeyong trusted the most. Which from possibly 50 designers, only reduced to a total of nine close friends.

Taeyong, Johnny, Ten, Renjun, YangYang, Doyoung, Sungchan, Lucas and You.

And then, there was one person you called a friend when the mood was right. When he was not being an absolute pain in the ass.

Yuta Nakamoto.

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“So there’s a launch happening this weekend over at the shed” Taeyong announced to your friend group who were barely paying attention thanks to Yangyang attempting to stuff four marshmallows into his mouth. “Come on you can do one more” Lucas edged him on while Renjun shook his head disapprovingly and Sungchan tried to suppress his laughter.

“Guys please pay attention” Doyoung, the only type of authority around here spoke up, finally quieting down the room and allowing his best friend to speak.

Taeyong cleared his throat and shifted nervously as all eyes were focused on him again. “I’d like all of us to attend, maybe look for a new recruit” the timid pink haired boy spoke and everyone nodded knowing the routine of these launches at this point.

“Can we party hard or is this just one of those save face kinda gigs ?” Yuta raised his hand and the spark in Lucas’s eyes indicated that he may have had the same idea.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your leg over the other, “Yuta’s having a dry spell he wants to find some damsel in distress to get into his bed” you turned to him and he only smirked at your snarky comment.

“Well now y/n it’s only because you haven’t been in the mood for my dick lately” he pouted and Renjun threw his head back, followed by groans from both Johnny and Ten.

“I’m not in the mood for the two of you today seriously” Ten chimed in, rubbing his temples just waiting for this group meeting to be over. “Yeah me too” Johnny added, “you two fight the entire week then hook up over the weekend, we are tired.”

“Why are you guys tired ? Are you doing the fighting and fucking ?” Yuta scoffed and Doyoung jumped to his feet, folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at the scowling black haired man,

“This is a work meeting. If it's not about work” Doyoung eyes moved to you, “then we don’t want to hear about it.”

You nodded after getting reprimanded but Yuta being Yuta just snickered and downed the rest of his coffee, unbothered by what any of the people in the room had to say about him.

“Okay then well I’ll see you guys Friday night, if you find a possible recruitment just text the group chat and we will decide as a team then and there” Taeyong wrapped up the meeting and everyone dispersed back to their work stations to finish up any outstanding projects.

Blank Space had its own office block but you guys were the only ones with a private floor at the very end of the hallway, far away from the part-timers.

Everyone had their own cubicle made up of makeshift drywall, so it was private but not private enough. Taeyong felt that closed offices made no sense for a room of creatives and when working on bigger projects it was easier for members to move their stations to their partners' cubicles.

Your cubicle though had the unfortunate fate of being placed in front of Yuta. The members had tried to swap with either of you but neither of you budged. Moving meant there was a problem and showing that you had an actual problem with the other person meant it could sabotage the team and things may go sour.

So both of you conceded. Trying your absolute best to stay out of the other person's way during work hours. But it was impossible when bickering was just something you guys did.

From the very beginning You and Yuta had disagreed on almost everything. Both of you were pretty stubborn people and had a very similar mindset. Then on a random drunken night Johnny suggested that you and Yuta needed to release your anger in bed and the next day you’d be best friends. Yuta was pretty adamant on the idea and not only did you hook up once, it became this ongoing hell of fighting, building up your anger and releasing it during mind blowing sex.

Neither of you questioned the abnormality of your relationship. Rather, you ignored the red flags and the toxicity of it all and just assumed attraction only happened through liquor, high sexual needs and boredom.

“Hey y/n sorry about snapping like that earlier” Doyoung stepped into your cubicle, his gummy smile showing as he nervously scratched his head. “It’s no problem, I’m sorry about my stupid comment” you pressed your lips together feeling a tad guilty that it all started because of you.

“You guys really love riling each other up don’t you?” Doyoung took a seat opposite you which was a bit unnatural for anyone who walked by. Doyoung was a very reserved person and never bothered to converse with any of you besides Taeyong. Unlike the rest of you Doyoung was recruited to handle finances and foresee the operation. He appreciated the arts but never delved in it, hence his awkwardness with the openness and unhinged personalities of the group.

“I get that it can be...exhausting” you sighed, propping your elbows up on the counter and pouting.

“Then why do you continue ?” Doyoung quizzed and you shrugged, “stress relief ?”

Doyoung chuckled at your words and pushed his spectacles up his bridge, “you guys are the ones stressing each other out,” Doyoung turned back to look at Yuta who was busy sketching and turned back to face you,

“All I’m saying is that maybe it’s time to look for a stress reliever that doesn’t result in anger the very next day, you guys need to move on.”

Move on.

Doyoung’s words swam in your mind hours after the short conversation had ended and you wondered if it was indeed time to move on. You looked up from your desk and to your surprise Yuta’s eyes were locked with yours as he twirled a lollipop in his mouth.

The issue was, as much as you hated him you couldn’t deny he was so goddamn hot. From the long hair to the edgy attire, physically he was your type. Personality on the other hand, it was like nails against a chalkboard.

Unbearable.

You kept your eyes locked with him until he slowly pulled the sweet out of his mouth, licked his lips and blew you a cheeky kiss from across the room.

“Moron” you mumbled and shook your head trying to ignore his devilish motives and get back to work.

Doyoung was right. You definitely needed to find someone to distract yourself from Yuta’s hold over you.

———————————————————————-

It was the night of the launch and everybody showed up with their own rides and began mingling with former clients and partners. You arrived with Ten and Lucas who already decided to pre-game drinks just in case ‘there wasn’t enough at the party.’

“Hey please do us a favor and not hook up with Yuta tonight” Ten wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you maneuvered through the groups of people. “Not planning on it” you replied in his ear, “and besides Doyoung already beat you to that pep talk.”

“Doyoung ?” Ten wrinkled his nose before ordering the two of you a mojito from the open bar.

“Yeah he said that I should move on, possibly find a new hookup” you shrugged, retrieving the drink and headed to a balcony that overlooked the first floor of the launch party. There were bodies of people everywhere, networking, checking out merchandise or just getting plain wasted.

“Seems like Lucas has already been cut off from the open bar” Ten pointed out, watching the tall man try to push his way back to the bar but the bouncer refused him to do so.

“Let me go help him out, I'll catch up later” Ten sighed and gave you a pat on your shoulder, “and yeah find a new hookup, if Yuta gets to sleep around so can you.”

You watched Ten disappear into the crowd and twirled the glass in your hand wishing what he had said was that easy.

There were no rules about hooking up with other people or just any reinforcements in general when it came to you and Yuta. But you we’re well aware of his loose sex life. There were many times where Yuta ended up going home with some random person if he wasn’t in the mood to hook up with you. But You on the other hand, never bothered these days because you were either too busy or whoever you met just ended up boring you to death.

“Y/n ?” You heard someone say from behind you and to your surprise it was a face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Jeno ? Oh my God” you quickly gave the blonde boy a quick hug, taken back by how much he had filled out since high school.

Jeno used to help you out from time to time during proms and fashion shows, lending out his strength to build anything from sculptures to installation art in the city.

“I was wondering when I was going to bump into you at one of these shows” his bright smile turned his eyes into crescents as he joined you at the balustrade. The Jeno you knew in high school was a lanky shy kinda guy but the Jeno you saw now was confident, mature and outright gorgeous.

“I’m quite surprised seeing you here actually” you chuckled shyly, “I didn’t know you’d pursue anything in this field to be honest.”

“Wow” Jeno mouthed and cutely grinned, “hmm that kinda hurt considering I’m the one who made the centerpiece of this entire launch”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the structure of colored sharpies bound together to create a giant rubix cube in the middle of the party. “Holy shit that’s awesome my boss would absolutely love you” you gasped, knowing Taeyong absolutely loved installation art especially at a large scale like this.

“Oh who’s your boss ? I’m actually a free agent right now” Jeno replied and you quickly remembered the reason you were even at the launch in the first place. “Wait! We’re looking for recruits right now, let me just tell the others about it” you said excitedly, handing Jeno your drink and pulled up the group chat on your phone.

A few minutes later everyone confirmed the meeting place of a private room located on the second floor, quiet enough for a quick interview and decision. The best part of this job was everyone was so connected that there was no need to go through the process of a full portfolio look and a million interviews, all you needed was a trusted ally within the group to vouch for you and you were already one foot in.

“Ten and Yangyang took Lucas home after he tried to challenge the bartender to an arm wrestling match” Johnny entered the room and sipped his whiskey while Renjun and Sungchan followed close behind him. Taeyong and Doyoung stood in front of the room discussing something amongst themselves while you and Jeno took a seat on the burgundy couch.

Yuta entered shortly after, drink in hand and you noticed his eyes narrow in on Jeno who sat close to you. “Okay everyone who’s able to make it is here let’s get started” Taeyong clasped his hands together, “everybody this is Jeno Lee and a long time friend of y/n.”

“Not that long but yeah we did work together” Jeno chuckled and got to his feet, “well I’m an installation artist, I actually made the centerpiece in tonight’s launch.”

“Wow, it's amazing!” Renjun complimented and Sungchan agreed, giving Jeno a thumbs up, “yeah man that piece is brilliant.”

Jeno smiled from ear to ear as the meeting proceeded with everyone going through a few of Jenos works and what he could bring to the team. While your teammates concentrated on Jenos work all you could concentrate on was Jeno himself.

You wondered if Jeno knew how gorgeous he was in his effortless tank top and denim jeans combo. You hoped no one caught you staring but someone was well aware of your actions.

Yuta watched how you looked at the young guy, he wasn’t stupid, he knew when you found someone attractive and the way you were ogling Jeno right now, he didn’t like it at all.

The meeting ended and everyone welcomed Jeno to the collective. Johnny gave him a few pointers on which coffee to order from the cafe next to the office and Sungchan exchanged gamer tags with his new friend.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday” you waved as everyone exited the meeting and before you could make your way to catch up with Jeno and Sungchan you were being pulled back into the room.

“Your place or mine ?” Yuta mused and snaked an arm around your waist, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“Neither” you responded, “I’m gonna hang with Jeno and head home, you should find that little damsel to play with”

“Don’t be difficult y/n we're long overdue for our therapy session now” he groaned, pressing his lips to your ear and jaw. As much as he aroused you by just breathing you thought about what Doyoung had said, you needed to move on from this mess.

“Listen I think we need to just stop our sessions” you stepped away from him leaving Yuta slightly taken back from your actions, “let’s move on, be out of each other’s way and not make the group uncomfortable okay ?”

Yuta watched you press your lips together and finally make your exit, leaving him completely alone. You denied his advances for the first time since the two of you started sleeping together and something in him broke.

————————————————————————

Monday came around and the whole team buzzed about Jeno joining the team. Usually a new recruit would hang downstairs with the part time designers but because Taeyong trusted your judgement on Jeno, he was able to integrate with the team.

“Man that Jeno guy seems real chill” Yangyang hopped alongside Johnny and Yuta who were doing the morning coffee run. Yuta kept his composure despite knowing he wasn’t a huge fan of someone new joining the team and throwing off the dynamic. Hands in his pocket he ignored Yangyangs endless questions about the meeting, allowing Johnny to entertain the eager young boy.

“All I know is that having Jeno around means I don’t have to do all the carrying when Lucas bails on me” Johnny sipped his drink as they made their way back to their office. To their surprise Jeno had just arrived, looking like a lost puppy as he examined the names of the floors next to the secretary desk.

“Speak of the devil” Johnny threw his arm around Jeno, startling the boy and led him over to the elevator, “we’re at the top floor newbie, make sure to get an access card from Taeyong.”

“T-thanks” Jeno grinned and bowed politely to both Yuta and Yangyang before stepping into the elevator. The other guys barely bothered with Yuta’s reaction to Jeno because he rarely liked anyone enough to show any sign of enthusiasm. Jeno wasn’t going to change that.

The elevator opened to the top floor and Jeno awed at the chilled atmosphere you all had created here. From Ten’s thousands of plants around the room, Taeyongs fish, a pool table brought in by Lucas and gaming stations set up by Sungchan, it looked like paradise.

“This....is so cool oh my God” Jeno stepped in, his eyes wandering all over the place until it locked on you hanging over at the fish tank with Taeyong.

“Y/n!” Jeno jogged over and you greeted him with a wide smile and a tight hug, “Jeno you made it!” You gleamed. Jeno quickly shook Taeyong’s hand unsure of how formal of a boss he actually was.

“Whoa I feel like a principal” Taeyong giggled as he dropped a few fish flakes for his babies. “Wow, does everybody have their own cubicle ?” Jeno strolled around the room taking a peak at the vast versions of decor each cubicle adorned.

“Yeah” you responded, “but I don’t think yours is ready yet right Doyoung ?”

“That’s right,” Doyoung replied and folded his arms across his chest, “you don’t mind sharing for the week do you ?”

Jeno shrugged and looked over at you, “I was hoping to catch up with y/n anyway, I don’t mind sharing if it’s okay with you ?”

“It’s perfectly fine” you assured him and gestured over to your cubicle, “me casa is su casa.”

“I’m just gonna need some admin stuff sorted Jeno can you join me for a bit ?” Doyoung asked and Jeno nodded, giving you a quick hug before heading off to the administration offices with Doyoung. You watched the blonde guy exit and something just felt so much brighter in the office. You felt a sense of excitement of what’s to come now that Jeno was back in your life. But like all sunny days there always comes a thunderstorm and yours was staring you down like he was waiting to rain on your parade.

“What ?” You blinked, and Yuta shrugged as he peeked into your cubicle. “It’s a bit small isn’t it ? Don’t think two people can work in here” he raised his brow and looked over at you.

“It’s fine” you sighed and pushed past him, “it’s only for a week and he’s not a stranger to me, why do you care ?”

“I don’t” Yuta mumbled, dragging his feet back to his cubicle leaving you questioning his slightly odd behavior. Your mind quickly snapped out of it when Jeno had made his way back, that bright smile spread across his face and suddenly it felt like sunshine filled the room once more.

“I’m back!” He sang and pulled a chair opposite you, retrieving his laptop already looking like a regular in the office.

“Did Doyoung tell you about tonight ? Our little welcoming party over at Kleo’s Sky Bar ?” You asked, skimming through your emails for the day. “Oh, yeah he did, I mean you guys don’t have to do all of this” Jeno chuckled shyly, those pretty eyes distracting you for the third time that day.

“Nah we do it for everyone, and it’s better you know everyone drunk to avoid future surprises” you pointed over to Lucas who was coaching Yangyang through a trick shot at the pool table. “Gotcha” Jeno nodded, as he watched one of the balls fly off the table and nearly knock Renjun in the back. It was chaos absolutely everyday in the office and you knew Jeno was going to love it here.

But even with Jeno in front of you, your new distraction, your new beginning, like Doyoung and Ten had said you needed, it was a habit at this point to look across the room, wondering what Yuta was up to. You watched him remove his cardigan, exposing his arms in those loose tank tops he always loved to wear as he concentrated on a sketch in front of him. Thankfully he was fully immersed in his work for once to take notice of your eyes on him. You continued observing him, watching him nod along to probably some alternative song blaring in his headphones as he sketched away on his iPad. He was so effortlessly attractive when he wasn’t aware of it.

You needed to snap out of this daydream.

“So are you seeing anyone these days ?”

“Hmm ?”

Jeno laughed as you finally realized that he’d been talking to you and you mentally cursed yourself for even being distracted by Yuta of all people.

“I’m sorry..Uhm no I’m not seeing anyone” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and Jeno nodded cutely, “uh good...uhm not good that you’re alone but I was hoping you weren’t...God I’m still so bad at this”

You felt your cheeks heat up seeing Jeno fumble over his words and get nervous about asking you such a question. He was so adorable and something in you also wondered if he was like this in a relationship, or in the bedroom.

Was he dominant ? Was he passive ? Yuta was very dominant and you’d even rile him up to the point of him making you shut up with his actions.

“Y/n ?” Jeno waved his hand in front of your face and you shook your head, you couldn’t believe you did it again. What the hell was wrong with you ?

“Oh my God Jeno I'm so sorry...these emails are just a pain in the ass” you lied but thankfully Jeno took the bait and nodded, “it’s okay I’ll let you get back to work, I was going to go down to the cafe, do you want anything ?”

“Yeah a cafe latte would be great thank you” You felt guilty but it was still only two days since you decided to cut off Yuta so adjusting was going to take a bit of time.

Jeno had left for the cafe and you quickly dove straight into your work, hoping the time would just fly by. That was until you heard a knock and watched Yuta saunter into your cubicle and take a seat right in front of you. You watched him prop his elbows on the table and his piercing eyes narrowed down on you as if he were waiting for an answer.

“Why are you here ?” You questioned him, doing your best to divert your attention from his chiseled arms and exposed chest.

“I want an explanation,” Yuta said calmly, his voice deep and monotone.

“To what ?” You knew fully well what he was talking about but you were really not in the mood to talk to him about this. Yuta sighed and cocked his head to the side, clearly annoyed by your response. “Why the fuck are we calling it quits when we are nothing to each other ? Can’t we just hook up and ignore each other as usual ?” You sensed the annoyance in his voice. Denying him that night was indeed eating him up since you’ve never done it before.

“Yuta that’s the whole point” you rubbed your temples, “if we are nothing to each other then we shouldn’t be hooking up, it just ties us together for absolutely no reason.”

Yuta stayed quiet for a bit and eventually just nodded, “fine do whatever you want I guess.” You watched him walk out, not bothering to give you a second look and you wondered if the unsettling feeling you were experiencing in this moment was how he felt two days ago.

Nothing made sense.

————————————————————————

The evening arrived and everyone was in good spirits because you were all headed to one of your favourite spots in town. “Lucas you gotta do karaoke tonight” Sungchan threw his arm around the large brown haired man as they entered the bar. “Hmm give me a few rounds of drinks first” Lucas stuck out his tongue as he gestured to the waitress to get the gang the usual table.

Thankfully tonight the bar was fairly empty which meant that the gang could really loosen up without the prying eyes of strangers wishing you’d all just leave.

“Wow this place is pretty cool” Jeno gleamed, allowing you to enter the booth first like a true gentleman before scooting right in next to you. Yuta opted for the seat at the very end as usual, so he could sneak off to smoke without bothering any of friends every couple of minutes. The position also gave him a clear view of you and Jeno who were snuggled up in the corner already lost in your own private conversation.

“Beer ?” Johnny nudged Yuta, snapping him out of his fixation. Yuta nodded and slumped back in his seat trying his best to focus on whatever Renjun and Yangyang were talking about. It’s not like him to feel this way. Usually by now he’d be seated next to you, annoying the shit out of you until he saw those pretty eyes glare at him with rage. Then after you’d have a few drinks you’d be leaning on his shoulder, playing with his rings until he offered to take you home, and then-

“To Jeno!” Lucas yelled, lifting up a shot glass of God knows what and rallied everyone to join in on his toast.

“To Jeno” you grinned leaning into Jeno’s side and clinked glasses with him. Jeno felt warm, comforting, he made it so easy for you to just enjoy having him around rather than it being a task. That’s what a healthy relationship was like wasn’t it ?

“Jeno Im glad and also sorry that you have to join the most annoying group of people ever” Doyoung half smiled and Taeyong waved his hand, “we’re not that annoying Jeno I promise” the pink haired boy reassured him despite Renjun and Ten agreeing with Doyoung’s words. Jeno just laughed it off and turned to you with a bright smile as he draped his arm over your shoulder,

“Kinda feels like fate that I bumped into you huh?”

You know he may have been joking but Jeno was really unaware that his presence really was the antidote to getting rid of the Yuta situation. The team loved him, he was someone you knew and could trust, it was all right there for you, written on paper. Nothing could possibly go wrong… right ?

“Fourth round is on me” Taeyong held up his card to the waitress despite his tired eyes were quite evident. Everyone was well over tipsy and Lucas had already entertained the bar with his beautiful rendition of “Starboy” by The Weeknd and Johnny stepped in as his air guitar player in the back.

“Gotta go to the bathroom!” You whined while Jeno helped you to your feet as you pushed your way past a sleeping Renjun and a spaced out Sungchan. You could tell tonight was going to take a toll on everyone tomorrow morning.

You quickly exited to the back where the bathrooms were located. You walked down the dim hallway, mentally thanking yourself for not overdoing it with the alcohol as each step became darker and darker.

“Watch your step” someone said and you turned around to see Yuta leaning over a railing with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth.

“Yeah” you managed to say and entered the bathroom before he could say anything else. The lack of alcohol didn’t stop the intrusive thoughts of Yuta filling your mind as you stopped to wash your hands. All you could think about was if he was going to be there when you walked back. Was he going to say anything ? Was he going to do anything ?

Were you going to do anything ?

You stepped outside, head a little more muddled than when you walked in and your first question was answered, Yuta was still there leaning up against the wall looking ahead of him. You slowly began your journey back, keeping your head down to avoid any type of confrontation with him.

“Y/n….” He mumbled, reaching out until he had a grip on your wrist causing your eyes to look up at him. Why did he look so goddamn breathtaking right now, with his stupid black hair all messy and his eyes luring you in like a lion to it’s prey.

“W-what ?” You replied, unsure why you still allowed him to hold you or even have the nerve to stop you from getting back to the rest of your friends. Yuta pushed himself off the wall and turned your body so you were now pressed against the concrete and his body was pressed against you. Your breathing hitched as he ran his fingers lightly down your arms. His eyes concentrated on his movements while yours focused on his face, watching him bite down on his lip as he took in the position the two of you were now in.

“You remember a few weeks back and I had you up against this wall moaning my name ?” His voice was so low that it aroused you, making you mentally curse yourself for the lewd thoughts.

“Yuta…” you sighed but there was a hint of desperation in your voice surprising yourself but not really phasing Yuta at all.

“Yeah just like that” he hummed before pressing his lips to your jaw, and peppered kisses all the way down to your neck. You felt yourself willingly giving him access, melting into every kiss he placed on your warm skin. Yuta’s hands grabbed your waist and pinned you against the wall while your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck and into the soft tufts of his hair.

“Yuta…we shouldn’t…I shouldn’t” you breathed, feeling yourself pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

“Tell me no and I’ll stop y/n '' Yuta said into your ear to which you responded by pulling him by his belt buckle and pushed yourself up to capture his lips. Yuta’s dominance finally showed when he slipped his leg in between yours, giving you the chance to gain a bit of friction your core so desperately desired at this point. You felt Yuta’s smirk in your kiss when you began grinding down on his thigh showing him the obedient whore you were for him. Nothing Yuta loved more was for you to beg for him, beg for his touch, need him. That was until the two of you heard footsteps and to your dismay it was the last person you’d ever want to see you trapped against a wall with the man you hated.

It was Lee Jeno.

“I’m sorry I - I’m sorry I’ll leave you guys alone-“ Jeno stumbled, he felt his cheeks heat up and made his quick exit out of the hallway.

“Jeno!” You called, pushing Yuta off and tried to neaten yourself. Yuta felt a heated sensation overcoming his body the moment he saw the look in your eye when you saw Jeno and the way you pushed him off like he was a piece of trash. Like he was nothing.

“You know maybe if you’d stop pretending like you don’t wanna fuck me then we can go back to normal” Yuta spat, not caring about the unfortunate situation that had just unfolded.

You turned around to face him and the next words that came out of your mouth you weren’t sure if you were going to regret it or not.

“You’re right Yuta that’s all you are to me and that’s all you ever will be, a good fuck for about an hour and that’s it. Other than that there’s no use for you. At all.”

You stormed away before Yuta could respond, but by now you would have heard his curses echoing throughout the hallway, the whole damn bar would’ve heard it. But there was nothing.

Absolute silence.

———————————————————————

It had been two weeks since the interaction with Yuta at the bar and what you had to him still resonated with you, wanting so badly to apologize. But each time you saw him at the office he paid you little to no attention, going on about his day peacefully and you didn’t want to interrupt that.

Jeno thankfully understood the situation and was more than willing to be the rebound guy, his only rule being that besides work related matters you needed to cut off communication with Yuta altogether.

‘It was the only way you’d get full closure and my mind would be at peace’ Jeno had said after you gave him the rundown of everything that had happened.

Jeno and you agreed to just casually date, nothing official and nothing too serious. You guys went on movie dates, cafe dates and kept the physical aspect to a minimum. It was simple. Laidback. A very normal form of dating.

“Y/n I’m gonna need you on a photo shoot set in a few hours” Taeyong peeped his head into your cubicle and you looked up at him with a frown, “I thought we were working on that rappers record party ?”

“Yeah that rapper wants you, Yangyang and Yuta to tag up the wall for a video segment of his photo shoot” Taeyong replied with a shrug and left you bewildered.

Yuta. From all the damn people he could’ve chosen you had to work beside the person who practically called trash in your last meeting.

Great.

You wrapped up the last of your work and headed downstairs to the parking lot where an Uber was waiting for you. Thankfully Yangyang could talk anyone’s head off because just sitting next to Yuta during the car ride felt tense. Normally he’d be pushing you into Yangyang or commenting on how his tattoos were better than yours. But all he did was look out of the window watching as the buildings moved past, keeping his airpods in to avoid any type of communication with anyone.

“You guys are finally here! Good Mark Lee is waiting for you at the shoot location” a woman dressed in all black led you into what looked like a gymnasium turned into a giant canvas.

“Are we going to paint all of this ? Man this is going to take forever” Yangyang gasped as the three of you walked through cans of paint, staff members and models.

“You guys are the designers from black space who did that painting over at Jynx Club ?” A young guy approached who you quickly realized was the new hot rapper around town, Mark Lee.

“Uh yeah, that’s us” you chuckled shyly and looked around, “are we really doing up the entire room ?”

“Oh hell nah just the backdrop behind me” Mark waved his hand, “we just laid everything out for a few cgi effects but you guys, do ya thing over there!” You watched the hyped boy get called over by the director leaving the three of you faced with a gigantic piece of white board and no idea.

“Since you guys are uncultured and probably don’t listen to Mark Lee, let me be in charge of this piece” Yangyang pulled out his iPad and began scrolling through some of his sketches. “Be my guest” Yuta shrugged, completely disinterested in the topic and most likely just wanted to get done and go home.

Yangyang finally settled on something that utilized all three of your styles and you all put on your white overalls, immediately getting to work.

The vibe of the whole job was quite chilled and because of the fumes most of the staff had left the gymnasium leaving the three of you to work in peace. “God I need to pee so bad,” Yangyang groaned as he dangled from a ladder, an aerosol can in hand and a nearly completed section in his corner.

“Dude take a break we’re way behind you anyway” you walked over to steady the ladder as Yangyang finally made his way down. “Thanks guys, be back in 20” he shot you a thumbs up and disappeared into the tunnel leading to the gym lockers.

The tension returned but it was somehow worse than ever before. Even though Yuta was minding his own business for the first time while retrieving a paintbrush he looked at you. There was no unsettling glare or the feeling that he was pissed off at you, he just looked at you like he’d look at anyone else.

And somehow that felt even worse.

“Yuta…do you mind if we talk for a bit” you cleared your throat and he looked over at you and removed one of his airpods signaling to you that he was listening.

“Okay Uhm well I want to apologize for what I said that night” you bit down on your lip, “I didn’t mean it, and it was selfish of me to even think of you like that after coming onto you in the first place.”

Yuta blinked and eventually just nodded, “apology accepted, and I can see that you like Jeno so I’m trying to stay out of the way” he shrugged and continued painting as if this conversation wasn’t that deep to begin with.

“Are you not going to get me back? Are you sure you’re Yuta ?” You raised a brow and Yuta’s manic laugh echoed throughout the gymnasium, “you want me to be mean to you ? Wow y/n that’s truly some kink you got there”

“Ugh you know what I mean” you shoved him playfully, unaware that the brush you were wearing was still wet and now Yuta’s jaw adorned a light shade of orange.

“Oh shit I’m sorry” you quickly said but Yuta had already responded by swiping his red painted fingertips across your cheek and smirked, “now we’re even.”

“Hey mine is way worse than yours!” You grumbled and flicked more paint at Yuta which then enabled a paint war between the two of you. Yuta giggled so much that for a second you forgot how silent he actually had been the past two weeks. He was back to his usual self and so were you, playfully making a mess with him until Yangyang emerged from the tunnel and yelled, “What are you morons doing ?!”

You and Yuta stood still in the middle of the room both covered head to toe in paint but the scene was way too comical to hold in your laughter any longer.

“Yangyang we’re so sorry but look, it gave the canvas a little more color” you gestured to it and you weren’t lying, it actually did look a lot better than before.

“Fine you two can go on break, I'll finish up so we’re not sitting around until midnight” Yangyang huffed and returned to his masterpiece. “Is there a place to clean up here ?” Yuta asked and the woman from earlier on walked in and pointed to the tunnel located in the back of the gym, “there are bathrooms and showers back there, our crew provided fresh towels as well so go ahead” she smiled and you silently thanked her before heading to the tunnel with Yuta.

“God I have paint everywhere” you whined as you took a look at yourself in the mirror. Yuta chuckled as he began inspecting himself, looking at the peculiar fingerprints all over his face and neck. “This shit better not stain my skin” he grumbled as he picked away a piece of paint from a crevice in his ear. “Tell me about it” you responded and began removing the overalls. All you could think of was jumping into that shower stall and allowing the hot water to melt away all the grime and paint when you noticed Yuta was already down to his boxers.

Your gasp made Yuta snicker to himself as he walked around the bathroom looking for the ideal stall to take his shower in.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before” you heard him say before hopping into one of the stalls and drawing the curtain. Despite his words being correct it still made your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You guys were comfortable like this before, not now, not with Jeno in your life.

You shook your head and entered a stall opposite Yuta and a few rows down, just so you weren’t close to him but not far enough that made you feel alone.

“Fuck how is their paint on my ass ? That’s impossible!” Yuta groaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, “TMI, Yuta” you replied and Yuta scoffed, “says the person who’s responsible for this.” The banter ended and again all you heard was the sound of both showers hitting your bodies simultaneously, the air filled with steam and more unusual tension.

“Y/n ?”

“Yeah?”

Yuta was silent for a while and then you heard his water turn off. “Do you uhm mind checking if I got all the paint off my back ? I’ll uhm put my boxers on” he mumbled and you felt your heartbeat speed up.

First of all the Yuta you knew would’ve just walked over butt ass naked and pulled your curtain aside not caring at all. The way he acted now was out of character, but somewhat familiar.

“Yuta I’m still in the shower and naked” you chewed on the inside of your cheek while you waited in silence.

“I’ll close my eyes, I just don’t want this shit to dry up when we get back to work later” he replied and you heard his light footsteps coming toward you. Quickly moving your hair back and holding the curtain against your body, you slowly peeled back the material to reveal Yuta with his back facing you and with his eyes closed, like he said.

You peered down at his golden skin, taking in his broad shoulders and tiny waist as you inspected for any more signs of acrylic paint.

“Uhm yeah you have a little on your shoulder blade and lower back”

“Do…you mind…”

You bit down on your lip knowing this was already crossing the line. But you had just made up and it was your fault that he had paint on his back in the first place. It was innocent. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself while staring at one of the sexiest people you had ever met.

You began rubbing away pieces of the paint, ignoring Yuta’s whines when you used too much pressure. Your hands traced down to his lower back, settling in the dip as you tried to remove a very stubborn piece of paint.

“Ugh this one is not coming off” you scratched at it and to your surprise Yuta had let out a moan instead of the usual wincing.

“I don’t mean to kink shame but-“

Yuta spun around and glared at you, challenging you to finish your sentence but you were more concerned at the fact that the only thing protecting your nude body from Yuta right now was a thin piece of fabric.

“Yuta!” You scolded and he rolled his eyes, “oh please y/n I’ve seen it all, now can you please help me with the paint ?”

You watched wide eyed as Yuta stepped into the shower going back on his word to close his eyes and face the wall. You couldn’t believe what was happening right now but the quicker you removed the paint the quicker he’d be out of here.

“Aren’t your boxers…going to get wet ?” You watched him step closer to water already allowing his hair to soak up the warm stream. “Well you’re not gonna let me take them off with you in here and I’ll probably just go commando when we get back to the office” Yuta shrugged and you should’ve known that was one of his options since he has done it in the past.

You sighed and let go of the curtain allowing your naked body to be free and go back to work on his paint splatter. Yuta was calm and collected throughout the process, you silently commended him on his restraint, that was until he decided to turn around and look at you.

“Y-Yuta you promised” your voice was small but you still didn’t do much to cover up your body. Yuta leaned against the cold ceramic wall as he stared at you, his stare was dark, inviting you in like that night at the bar.

“I’m not going to do anything y/n unless you want me to” he reassured you, still maintaining a distance and doing absolutely nothing to persuade you. But did you need persuasion when all he needed to do was be in the same room as you?

The two of you stared in each other’s eyes for a few minutes and you had no idea who actually made the first move but there you were in the center of the shower stall, in a random gymnasium, kissing Yuta Nakamoto.

Yuta’s bare body was pressed against yours as the two of you fought for dominance in the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest to which he responded by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until his hardened member twitched against your stomach. There were no words, just actions. Each kiss only made you more desperate for him, not feeling this type of arousal since that night at the bar. He was the only person who could turn you on to the point that every image of Jeno was erased from your mind.

You tugged down his boxers with urgency and Yuta helped you quicken the process, quickly kicking away the piece of clothing and had you pushed up against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. Yuta pulled away from your lips with a sultry bite on your bottom lip and lined up his member with your core. He kept his eyes on you the entire time from the moment he slipped into your wetness to the harsh thrusts he was now giving to you against the coldness of the wall. You felt like you were complete, filled with the right amount of passion and ecstasy. God you hated to admit it but nobody could fuck you the way Yuta did. Absolutely no one.

Yuta slowed down his thrusts and you brought your feet back to the ground, gesturing for him to take a seat on the floor and got on top of his member once more. Yuta threw his head back as you rode him relentlessly, grabbing onto your ass as he tried to meet your rhythm. The sight of him partially under the water and his swollen lips was delicious, you couldn’t ask for a better view right now. Yuta on the hand was also enjoying having you bounce on his length, quickly realizing that the women he had bedded during his time without you were not worth it. Not a single one of them made him feel the way you did. Even the times you guys were fucking around he’d sleep with other women because he didn’t want to admit that you are his best. You will always be his best.

“G-gonna cum” you panted and Yuta quickly rubbed circles on your clit to help you reach your orgasm. He watched your body spasm and you threw your head back with a soft moan. The sight alone made him come undone straight after you, filling you up completely.

You slowly got to your feet with the help of Yuta offering his hand and managed to finally catch your breath.

What the fuck did you just do ?

“Before you say this was a mistake and you hate me, hear me out” Yuta spoke up, “I need to know something”

You bit down on your lip. “Yeah?”

“Do you like me ?”

“What ?” You quietly questioned and Yuta sighed, rubbing his temples, “do you like me y/n ? actually like me ? Or is it you just like fucking me ?”

“I don’t know Yuta you know that I’m seeing Je-“you began explaining before Yuta quickly cut you off. “Don’t say his name, listen I know you like fucking me because that’s what happened right now despite whatever feelings you have for…Jen..him.”

“So what am I supposed to do ?” You asked, still unsure of how you were even going to face Jeno back at the office after this.

“Use me,” Yuta deadpanned, “keep me as your dirty little secret and I won’t tell a soul. I just don’t want this to end. I’m fucking addicted to this, and clearly you’re in need of me just as much as I need you.”

Yuta took a step forward and cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand. “I just crave you all goddamn day and nothing is fulfilling that need until right now.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn’t bring yourself to share how much you ached for him. Late nights when you were alone you even pleased yourself with memories of him. You were unsure if it was lust at this point or you actually missed being around him. Despite every fight and argument the two of you had, there was something always drawing you in.

“First of all I don’t hate you” you sighed and he chuckled dryly before you continued, “I don’t know if this is a good idea but I’m only agreeing because Jeno and I aren’t serious yet and if we are-“

“I’ll back off I promise” Yuta quickly added and you nodded, “he can’t know about this, nobody can.”

“You have my word” Yuta pressed his lips together and for the first time he looked absolutely serious. Something in you made you trust that he wouldn’t fuck this up, because that would mean the one thing he wanted most right now would fall through.

You just hoped that this little need the two of you had for each other wasn’t turning into an…obsession.

————————————————————————-

“You guys are finally back” Ten stretched his arms above his head as you, Yangyang and Yuta returned back to the office after quite an eventful afternoon.

“Wanna see pics ? It turned out great!” Yangyang grinned quickly, running over to the older guys, showing off his artwork. Jeno was over at the game area with Sungchan completely invested in beating his friend in a round of Call Of Duty.

“Hey you” you sunk into the beanbag next to Jeno who shot you a quick glance before concentrating on his next move, “your hairs wet, why ?”

“Showered after the painting session” you answered diligently hoping there were no follow up questions. Thankfully he was way too invested in his video game to care much, you really weren't in the mood for an interrogation after half a day with Yuta.

Jeno asked a lot of questions when he felt insecure about something. Even though time had been short with him, it still somehow felt like a 2 year relationship. For a young guy Jeno was pretty old fashioned, he made you pick all the date places and never bothered to make the first move physically until you hinted to him that it was okay.

He was so different to what you were used to and you were afraid that if you didn’t speed things up with him this little secret with Yuta would turn into a reality.

“Hey y/n can you help me with lunch ?” Doyoung called from the makeshift kitchen area a few feet away and you silently thanked him for distracting you from your thoughts.

“Hey Doyoung” you smiled as you began opening containers from the Chinese delivery you guys frequented. “Just wanted to check in with you” Doyoung sweetly said as he grabbed a few utensils, “you and Jeno huh ? Was that part of my advice ?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah I guess so, it also helps that I’ve known him for a while now and he did actually have a thing for me in high school” Doyoung cocked his head at your words and leaned in, “and you liked him back or you’re seeing something in him now that you didn’t see before ?”

“U-uhm I think he’s hot” you chewed on your lip and Doyoung chuckled softly, “you know not everything is about looks or…hooking up, do you enjoy his time ? His interests ? His company ?”

You turned back to where Jeno was still playing his video games and you did feel a little confused as to what you guys actually did have in common. “I mean…” you began, crossing your arms across your chest, “we’ve only been seeing each other romantically for two weeks I think it’s too soon to tell.”

Doyoung combed back his hair and instead of bringing forth his insight in order to make you see things clearer he just nodded.

“You’re probably right, well I wish you guys all the best, it’s better than being with someone who doesn’t care emotionally right ?”

You slowly nodded and with that Doyoung began taking the food to the dining area leaving you with more confusing thoughts than you had before.

Lunch and the rest of the evening went on smoothly. Yuta stayed out of your way and there was absolutely no sign that the two of you we’re together that day. It was easier to fake seeing Yuta since the group knew the two of you would’ve been bickering straight after hooking up. It was the perfect illusion.

“Mark Lee’s party is at 9pm tomorrow night you guys, don’t forget” Taeyong looked around the room until he heard a confirmation from every single mouth.

“9pm ? Shit would it be okay if I only stuck around for an hour ?” Jeno sighed and looked over at Taeyong, “my brothers in town and I promised I'd get him from the airport at 10:30.”

“Well you’d have to show one of the guys here how to turn the installation on” Doyoung’s worried look matched Taeyong.

“I’ll be there to turn it on I’ll just need to leave straight after” Jeno assured them and squeezed your hand under the table, “it’s all really sudden but you’ll be okay right ?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m probably going to head home after the music video airing anyway” you smiled at him and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead earning a whistle from Lucas.

Yuta awkwardly shuffled at the sudden PDA and he hoped no one at the table noticed but it caught the attention of none other than Johnny Suh who narrowed his eyes at his coffee run mate.

The evening had wrapped up and everyone had already headed home except for Yuta and Johnny who were adamant on finishing a photography project for a band they were working with.

“Trouble in paradise ?” Johnny hummed as he edited an image on his laptop. Yuta, who was busy sorting out the Polaroids, turned to face his large best friend with a lost expression.

“Huh?” He raised a brow to which Johnny shook his head still staring at his screen.

“I can’t believe this, after all these fucking hellish months now you realize you like her?”

Yuta leaned in on the desk. “What the heck are you on about Johnny ?”

“Y/n” Johnny sighed and your name made Yuta’s heart race a bit, hoping Johnny hadn’t found out about the shower incident. God you’d hate him forever if anyone found out.

“Listen Johnny we-“

“You like her! After all those months of fighting I knew you were secretly in love and now” Johnny threw his hands in the air, “now that Jeno has entered the arena you have ruined your chances. Way to go buddy.”

“Wait what ?! I’m not in love with y/n!” Yuta scoffed. Saying that sentence out loud felt like a lie even though he couldn’t fully convince himself. Was he in love ? Was Johnny mistaking love for just lust ?

That’s all it was and ever was right ?

You enjoyed fucking around with him and he was okay with it. That’s what he wanted too. Even if you didn’t answer his question of whether you liked him or not, it was okay. Whatever you wanted was okay as long he got to be with you.

“I’m not in love with y/n.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Jeno arrived at the party with Yangyang and Sungchan all helping carry equipment for Jeno’s installation. The piece was a pixel art board that formed Mark Lee’s latest EP cover, and once plugged in it gave it an animated effect, basically bringing the EP cover to life. You marvelled at the hard work Jeno had put in, it was just a shame that he wasn't sticking around to receive praise from everyone who attended.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here ? I know how much you hate these parties” Jeno pressed his lips together as he brought you into a tight hug. You hummed and looked up at him smiling, “Only been dragged to one of these parties a million times, another round won't hurt.” Jeno responded by pressing his lips to your forehead before joining Sungchan in setting up the installation. You always wondered why Jeno opted for your forehead instead of your lips most of the time despite already having your first real kiss. You understood he wasn't big on PDA, but the only time you ever got to kiss him was at your apartment door when a date had ended or when you sneaked in a kiss at the cinema. As much as you liked his chivalry, God at times you just wished he took initiative and bent you over your kitchen counter and had his way with you. It was kinda humorous how Jeno was the ideal type of any women out there but for you, you needed an unhinged, sex-crazed maniac to match your energy.

You needed Yu-

“It looks really good Jeno.” Your breathing hitched when you heard Yuta’s voice from behind you. You turned around but to your surprise he wasn't alone. Yuta was accompanied by a familiar face, Mei, a part-time designer from a few floors down. The way she held onto his arm made something stir inside of you. Your cheeks burned up and you dare say it for the first time you felt...jealous.

You were used to seeing Yuta with many different girls but it was always some nobody that he never bothered to introduce to the group. He always made sure none of them integrated with his work life but Mei, Mei was the first person you actually knew.

“y/n its been a while, Oh my God you look great” she said sweetly and you returned a friendly smile despite your awkwardness. Yuta gave you a quick glance not really paying you any mind as he kept a steady hand on Mei’s lower back, the two of them practically looking like a couple. It made you feel uneasy. After all he had said to you that afternoon in the shower, It seemed like he didn't mean it.

“It’s perfect Jeno you really outdid yourself” Taeyong applauded as the rest of the team finally arrived, all congratulating Jeno on his first big project under Blank Space. Jeno shyly thanked everyone and checked his watch, sighing that it was already time for him to depart.

“You're going now ?” You walked over to wrap your arms around his waist. You didn't care much before about Jeno leaving early, before Yuta decided to bring a date to the party which meant you would definitely be on your own. Jeno pouted and stroked your head, “yeah, we're still on for Sunday though right ?” and you replied with a nod before sinking into one of his very warm hugs. You had no idea why, but the need to ease your jealousy and get back at Yuta was so strong that you ended up pulling out of the hug and kissed Jeno in front of everyone. Thankfully Jeno didn't shy away and maybe the guilt of leaving you made him return the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against your body.

“Get a room you guys” Ten joked when the two of you finally pulled away, and Jeno chuckled shyly before leaning into your ear, “let’s do that more often” he cheekily smiled and pecked your lips once more before making his way to the exit. Johnny watched as Yuta still looked visibly uncomfortable, more so now than before. But Johnny also knew how damn stubborn Yuta was and watched him throw his arm around Mei, departing from the group most likely for the rest of the night.

It was late into the night and Yuta was already way too many shots down to call himself sober. Mei was talking but he was not listening. Mei was a nice girl who had made it known to him that she liked him for a while now, but unfortunately for her she was not you. All Yuta wanted was you and again he cursed himself for being so fucking hooked. He wanted to make you jealous but after he saw you kiss Jeno it just came back to him ten thousand times harder. He came to terms with his addiction now in his drunken state he was scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the only person he cared about.

You.

“Hey I'm going to leave now...do you want to come with ?” Mei nervously bit down on her lip hoping the man she's been pining for months will finally take notice of her.

“Nah im good, I’m probably going to wait until my friends leave” Yuta replied coldly, his eyes still scanning the crowd as he took another sip from his jack daniels and coca-cola concoction. Mei nodded, disappointed that her night had not gone as planned and left silently, leaving her date to finally gain his freedom.

Yuta scanned the crowd for the tenth time until he did a double take at a figure in the back corner, dancing on their own with no care in the world. Downing the rest of his drink Yuta kept his eyes focused on you despite the alcohol blurring his vision and his body feeling heavy, he had to get to you.

You were in the same state as him, most likely worse since Lucas challenged you to a drink off. You had no clue when you separated from the rest of the group so you stuck a little corner hoping to sober up before heading home. As you swayed along to the music you felt someone wrap their hands around your waist and the familiar scent of that Tom Ford perfume made you realize who it was.

“Yuta…” you groaned, pulling his hands away from your body, still remembering how awful he made you feel a few hours earlier. God were you the rebound chick now ? The thought alone was sickening.

Yuta, still blissfully unaware that you were mad at him, still pushed his body against yours until your back was pressed against the wall and you had no choice but to look up at him. You watched him move his face down in order to capture your lips, but you quickly evaded it with a turn of your head. Yuta scoffed and sufficed for your neck, giving you soft wet kisses all the way down to your collarbones until you pushed him off yet again.

“What the fuck ?” He growled in your ear, “I thought we had a deal.” You rolled your eyes at him, there was the side of Yuta you hated the most. You wondered how long it would be until he factory reseted back to an asshole.

“I thought I was first choice” you snapped at him, “all your talk about no one can satisfy you like I can, use me y/n, I only want you” you mimicked his voice and flipped him off with your finger. Yuta knew you were jealous but it was kind of ironic given the situation. You were the one in a relationship, not him. “Oh so I'm supposed to see you suck face with Jeno but I can't have any fun y/n ?” Yuta had you back against the wall, this time his hand was locked on your jaw with his lips against your ear.

“Maybe I should've fucked Mei” Yuta’s voice was dark, you felt him smirk against your ear when his words clearly affected you, “Maybe if I fucked her she would've been so good that i would forget all about you y/n.” Your eyes darted to him and he cocked his head, challenging you, waiting to see how much you could take before you caved. Normally you’d be the one getting Yuta riled up like this. It was common knowledge that Yuta was a very jealous person and just mentioning another man sexually he would lose his mind. Once you were craving his attention and casually mentioned to him that if Doyoung was interested you’d let him screw you on his office desk, and Yuta responded by fucking you senseless in the supply closet until the only name that escaped your lips was his.

But now the tables were turned and you didn't want to hear about Mei. You didn't want to picture her next to Yuta let alone in bed with him. It was selfish on your part considering Jeno, but you wanted Yuta all to yourself.

“Shut up” you narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed a fist full of his shirt and brought him closer. Yuta traced his thumb over your lips and smiled, already knowing he won this round.

“Tell me why I cant fuck her right now y/n, tell me” he coaxed, and you responded by pulling him into a sensual kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth and your hand palming his member until you heard him groan in your ear,

You pulled away from the kiss and pressed your swollen lips to his ear, “Because...you're mine.” Yuta licked his own lips at your words and grabbed at your ass,

“Show me I'm yours, baby.”

You had no idea when and how the both of you got to Yuta’s apartment in one piece but the moment he had his foot in the door, Yuta was tugging your dress over your head. “Fuck why do you always wear the most complicated things” Yuta whined which you found cute even though you would never let him know that you were well aware of his adorable side. Sighing from victory, Yuta finally got your dress off and pulled you into his familiar bedroom, which you honestly missed so fucking much.

Taking in the familiar scent of his perfume and his slightly messy room, with posters on the walls, and a rack of band shirts - it was his little heaven and you loved it.

You walked over to lie on his bed, sinking into the soft fabric of the bed sheets as a familiar rock song began playing from Yuta’s stereo. You watched him as he discarded his shirt and ripped jeans, showing off his chest tattoos and belly ring, just the sight of him was already making you wet. Yuta was none the better, groaning as his boner pushed against the fabric of his underwear as his eyes took in your body, sexily laid out for him like you used to be.

“Fuck…” his lips parted as he watched you spread your legs, waiting for him obediently. Yuta crawled up onto the bed and nestled in between your thighs, his mischievous eyes looking up at yours before he began peeling away the thin piece of fabric revealing your core.

“You're…so…wet baby” he said in a low voice and leaned in to give your heat a soft kiss. The instant contact made your body shiver, reaching down to play with his dark curls. “Yuta…please” you whined as he continued his light kisses, not giving you the pressure you desired. Yuta looked up with an innocent face and cocked his head, “Why should I do it ?” His fingers traced circles on your hips and abdomen, waiting for an answer.

“Because…you’re mine Yuta, I want you…all to myself…I want to please me, only me” you threw your head back. Not having sex for over a month was really getting to you and the frustration had you saying just about anything. Yuta watched you squirm and after hearing those words he figured it was a good enough reward for his dear fuck-buddy. Yuta kissed your core once more but this time his tongue darted out every once in a while, awarding you with a better sensation. You moaned inaudible words as he began eating you out like a pro, lapping away like his life depended on it before inserting two fingers inside you.

“Yuta wait I’m gonna-“ you grabbed onto his hair, feeling your orgasm come on way too early for your liking as his fingers moved rapidly and his tongue licked away at your clit. Yuta ignored your plea knowing this was only the first of many and honestly he was glad that he was still the only man giving you orgasms for the past couple of months.

Yuta pulled away, a devilish smirk spread across his face as he watched you cum all over his fingers and just as your vision was in focus you had the pleasure of seeing him lick his fingers clean as if he just had the most amazing meal ever,

“Mmmm tasty” he bit down on his lip and winked at you. God he was so damn cocky, and it didn’t take you long to recover from that orgasm to make room for another. You got to your knees and sat back, your face now level with Yuta’s clothed member.

Yuta groaned as you palmed him, his length already twitching against your touch. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but since the night you had called it off with him, his desire had subsided and he wondered if you were the sole reason for his high sex drive. You placed your lips against his belly ring, giving it a kiss before pulling down his boxers and allowing his member to spring free. Yuta cursed as your tongue swiped across the tip and you looked up at him with those large eyes, and Yuta knew exactly what you were waiting for. Positioning your mouth over his tip, you waited until Yuta grabbed a fistful of your hair and guided you down on his length, groaning loudly as you took in all of him.

Yuta’s hips began to meet your rhythm and the grip on your hair tightened, the sudden roughness made you shiver with excitement. You and Yuta always liked it rough, since it took out your anger on each other and any type of nurturing or romance would throw off the dynamic.

Yuta threw his head back as he released, keeping you on him until you swallowed every bit. He muttered curse words as he pulled out and watched you lick your lips, swiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and sucked it off.

“Yum” you mimicked his words from earlier with a smirk essentially driving Yuta crazy with lust. You giggled as he pushed you onto the bed and attacked you with bites and kisses, leading from your neck down to the valley of your breasts. “How long until you get hard again?” You sighed playfully but winced when Yuta’s teeth sunk into your skin, punishing you for your words.

“Cocky aren’t we ?” He moved back up to your lips and kissed you passionately. Just as you began melting into the kiss, Yuta pulled away and jumped off his bed heading to his closet.

“What are you doing ?” You groaned as you watched him sift through the mess of his closet until he finally retrieved a familiar box. “Yuta you’re literally hard right now, come on let’s just fuck already” you whined, knowing that when Yuta brought out that box it was his way of getting rid of your bratty attitude.

“If you wanna be impatient two can play at that game” he grinned and hopped onto the bed, pulling out his favorite pair of hair cuffs and with ease, cuffed you to his headboard. You watched him look through his box of toys, rubbing your thighs together excited about what his choice will be.

Yuta grabbed something out of the box and discarded the rest onto the floor, making his way back up to your body and pressed his lips against your ear, “you remember the safe word baby ?” Yuta pecked you when you nodded and you watched him insert a mini vibrator in your core and roll off the bed with the remote in his hand.

“I wasn’t even that mean to you” you grumbled, still getting used to the device inserted in you. Yuta shrugged and turned the device on, keeping it on a low setting as he watched you stir in his bed.

“I’m not punishing you for that actually, I’m punishing you for something else you did” he said calmly, pacing around the room butt ass naked. You frowned and thought back to the party when he had found you, what did you say to him ?

“I’m sorry I pushed you…away” you pouted but a moan escaped your lips when you felt the setting turn higher and you watched Yuta shake his head, “nope that’s not it.” You groaned and threw your head back, unable to even think what the hell he could be on about. Yuta would get mad at every little thing so it honestly could’ve been anything.

“Can’t I have a hint or something ?” You pleaded and Yuta raised his eyebrow and eventually sighed, giving in too easily. “It happened in the beginning at the party” he said annoyingly, and finally something in your brain clicked.

“The kiss ? You’re mad over the kiss ?” Your words fell off when you felt the vibrator go another setting higher, the new speed was decent enough to start building a second orgasm. “You don’t sound like you’re apologizing for it” Yuta scoffed and dangled the remote in front of your face, “this goes up 4 more speeds y/n.”

“Why do I need to apologize for kissing my boyfriend when-“

Another setting higher.

“Fuck wait Yuta” you breathed, it was impossible to even keep focused at the new speed and the sensation was now running throughout your entire body. “You kissed him in front of me to make me jealous didn't you?” Yuta questioned and you nodded frantically, pressing your thighs together to ease the intensity, “yes yes oh my God, I wanted to make you….jealous because you brought someone else…and..fuck” just as you felt your body finally build up a perfect orgasm the vibrator suddenly turned off and you were met with Yuta’s cocky smile.

“You like to have it all don’t you y/n” he hummed as flung the remote aside and knelt between your thighs that were shaking from the orgasm denial. “You want to fuck me, but not let me fuck anyone else, you want Jeno but you don’t want me to get mad over it” he continued as he pulled the dripping wet toy out of your core and tossed it to the floor. Yuta placed his hands on either side of you and looked down at your defeated face and smiled, “Do you want me to fuck someone else?”

You shook your head and Yuta undid one of the handcuffs. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and again asked you another question, “Do you want to fuck me ?” and you quickly nodded, earning your second hand free from the cuffs allowing them to fall to your sides. Yuta placed his hand around your throat and squeezed gently, smirking as you arched your back, thirsting for him so desperately.

“Who would fuck you better, me or Jeno ?” Yuta mused as his hand released a bit of pressure on your throat. “Y-you” your voice was small and Yuta released your throat and his hand moved down to smack your thigh.

“Say it, say who will fuck you better” he hissed.

“You Yuta, you will fuck me better than anyone…better than Jeno” Yuta grinned at your words, a little surprised that you used Jeno’s name in such a blasphemous way. He was in euphoria at this point. It was all he needed to hear after continuously seeing you and Jeno look as if you were in love with each other.

It was all wrong.

You and him loved each other.

Fuck. He loved you. He really did.

Yuta pushed his length into your core and groaned as the realization of his thoughts and his conversation with Johnny all hit him at once. The sight of you beneath him, moaning his name and your confession that you wanted him over Jeno. It was all too much.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, his hips violently hitting against yours as your nails dug into his lower back. The lewd sounds filled the room and for a second the two of you looked into each other’s eyes, both feeling something…different. Usually Yuta would be fucking you from behind, his favourite position because he loved looking at your ass but tonight especially after his sudden questioning, he took care of you differently.

You don’t know what came over you and it was yet another thing you never did during sex but you pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips moved passionately against his, desperately clinging to his body as his strokes became longer and more powerful. Yuta sighed into the kiss, palming your cheek and his movements suddenly became more gentle as if he were making love to you, not fucking you.

“Yuta…I’m close” you moaned into his ear, loving this new feeling of him on your body. Yuta hummed in response and quickened his pace, making sure to sneak in a kiss every now and then until he finally brought you to your long awaited orgasm. You watched him bite down on his lip as he thrusted into you, chasing his own orgasm until he pressed his against your ear and said the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“I love you y/n”

Your body slightly froze as Yuta finally came and he rolled off your body, mentally cursing himself for allowing those words to escape his mouth at this moment. But it’s what he felt.

Johnny was right.

“W-what ?” You finally managed to say and turned to him. Yuta licked his lips and kept his focus on the ceiling above him.

“You heard me right” he said calmly and you felt your heart race. Where was this coming from ? He was the one who always implemented the no romance rule and he chooses now, the moment you’re seeing someone else to confess to you.

“I have to go” you murmured and jumped off the bed, starting to collect your clothes from the floor. You heard the bed creak and Yuta sat up and watched you dress up. “It’s late now y/n and you drank, stay the night and leave when the suns up” he insisted, eventually grabbing his own boxers,

“Here you can sleep in one of my shirts and you’re welcome to sleep in my bed for the night.”

“Y-you…that was one of the rules…no staying over” you were biting on your nails, everything that had happened in the last ten minutes made no sense. Yuta shoved the shirt into your hands and sighed, “Look, we don’t have to talk about what I said or what happened, just stay the night and you can go back to your perfect life with Jeno.” Yuta began making his way to his door when you grabbed onto his arm making him stop in his tracks,

“Where are you going ?” You asked him softly.

Yuta looked at you and sighed, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“Yuta..”

“What ?”

“Stay with me.”

—-—————————————————————

You had no idea why you had told him to stay in bed with you considering all that had happened a few minutes ago. But here you were, curled into his chest listening to his heartbeat as he lightly stroked your hair.

“How…long ?” You broke the silence and felt his heartbeat slightly race, “The realization came recently but I’ve…always liked you y/n” Yuta responded softly.

“Well you don’t have a good way of showing it” you rolled your eyes and Yuta’s soft laughter filled the room. “Well at first you actually were annoying but I did find you cute” He replied and shifted until you were on your back looking up at him,

“You put up with me and we’re not afraid to fight back. You know it’s not even about the sex, I think we’ve always enjoyed each other’s company, we just have a weird way of showing it.” You listened to his words and did a bit of reflection for yourself. You were already well aware that he occupied your mind 24/7 and did not enjoy seeing him around other girls he would eventually sleep with. But was this…love ? You weren't so sure.

“Do you ever think it’s more of an addiction rather than…love ?” You looked up at him, hoping your words did not offend his sudden confession in any way. Yuta sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling deep in thought.

“What is love then ?” He murmured, clearly by the look on his face he had been pondering on this question for a while now. You joined him in laying on your back and looked up at the ceiling, “love is when the other person completes you” you began, “when you’re having a dull day and just the sight of them could turn that around. Love is wanting to protect that person all the time, it’s just love.”

Yuta turned to you, “have you ever been in love ?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.” Yuta shrugged and returned his focus above him, “whatever you just described is how I feel, but maybe I’m just still hung up on the Jeno situation.” You felt a pang in your chest as if you just completely destroyed his spirit. You always saw Yuta as a strong confident presence, yet the person next to you seemed lost, he looked broken. But deep down you knew that whatever he was describing had floated in your head from time to time, maybe it needed to be said out loud for you to finally realize.

“Give me a week”

“Huh ?” Yuta’s eyebrows raised at you.

“Give me a week to figure all of this out and we will have this talk again” you sat up and looked back at him. Yuta propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head, “y/n, if you don’t feel the same way it’s okay I won’t come in between you and…Jeno anymore.”

“Yuta”

“Hmm?”

You pulled the boy by his shirt until you were able to lock your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth and he mimicked your actions before pulling away, a confused expression spreading across his face.

“I don’t know where this is going to go and whether we’re right for each other,” you chuckled dryly, “but I will always want you Yuta, you’re not coming between Jeno and I because the one who wants… .”

————————————————————————

It was finally Monday and you already regretted seeing Jeno at the office since you faked a terrible hangover to get out of the Sunday date, something that wasn’t entirely a lie. You spent the whole of Sunday laying in your bed thinking about the night you spent with Yuta and all that was shared during the morning.

You thought back on your own words about what your version of love was. Protecting someone. You reminisced about the days when Yuta got sick after a night out and you were the one to take care of him despite his protests. You thought back to when the two of you were working on a project, arguing as usual and you managed to slip on a wet paint spot, causing you to sprain your ankle. Yuta was the one to help you around the office when needed, he wasn’t appointed to you nor did he have to use up his own time to help you but he did it anyway.

When you were having a dull day the person you loved would find a way to brighten it up, just the sight of them was enough. There was an occasion where a client got real mean with you in the office, and hated the project you worked almost a month on, refusing to pay you for the labor you had put in. Yuta had seen the commotion and joined you in your booth and the two of you flooded the clients company with hilarious bad reviews anonymously until you were literally tearing up from laughter. That was one of the rare days the two of you didn’t get into an argument and the moment completely slipped your mind. You had forgotten that Yuta and you actually shared fond memories of each other outside the bedroom.

You thought about every moment you got to the office and Yuta would be sticking his tongue out at you, calling you names and being a jerk as usual. But days when he had to work out of the office felt boring, empty, it wasn’t worth sitting in your cubicle without seeing him across from you.

But then after feeling the warm fuzziness of knowing Yuta felt the same way about you, your phone buzzed with Jeno’s name across the screen. Why were you doing this to him ? Why was Jeno in the crossfire when all he wanted to do was get to know you better ?

All you ever wanted was a distraction from the man you were scared to fall in love with.

“Heyyy you, you feeling okay ?” Jeno beamed when you entered the office, immediately bringing you into a tight hug and ending with a kiss on the cheek. You nodded and the sense of guilt over took your body as you looked up at his cheery smile.

“I heard you guys got so wasted at the party, damn I wish I stayed” Jeno giggled as the two of you walked hand in hand over to your cubicle. “Yeah it was…crazy” you faked a smile before settling in your seat. You looked across, a force of habit and you were greeted by a soft smile from Yuta before quietly returning to his work.

“I was thinking we should go see that new marvel movie tonight, what do you think ?” Jeno’s eyes were so bright and full of energy that everytime you looked into them it just made it harder to keep up your facade. “I’m pretty busy this week but hey Friday you can come over, I…need to talk to you anyway” you bit down on your lip and Jeno’s expression changed from excited to slightly wary, clearly noticing that something wasn’t quite right.

“Is….everything okay?” He asked in a staggered voice, and you slowly nodded and reached to squeeze his hand, “yeah let’s hang out on Friday okay ?” You smiled and Jeno pressed his lips together and nodded. You watched him exit your cubicle and all that was left in your view was the only person you wanted to see today, Yuta.

Yuta looked up and caught your stare, smiling softly as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand and winked at you. It was sweet and innocent, nothing like how he usually acted from across the room. You found yourself blushing and hid your face until you heard a beep come from your phone. Opening the messenger app you were greeted by a picture of yourself hiding your crimson cheeks with the message ‘Cute’ attached to it.

y/n: didn’t take you for a simp.

yutaa: fuck off, I have a folder like this.

You stifled your laughter when Yuta sent a screenshot with a folder just of you in your cubicle. From you flipping him off, to you glaring at him clearly pissed off at something he had said, and one of you trying your best to pay attention to whatever story Yangyang was on about.

y/n: oh my god you’re a BIG SIMP.

yutaa: maybe.

y/n: well I do have ONE of you that I don’t have the heart to delete.

yutaa: oh really ?

You sent Yuta a picture you absolutely treasured of him in your bed fast asleep hugging one of your plushies. It was one of the last nights you had with him before things got sour. Normally you’d never allow him to nap in your bed after a hookup but he looked so at peace and so adorable that you decided to bend the rules a little.

yutaa: that was a good ass nap. yutaa: simp.

y/n: maybe.

The rest of the day went on and honestly you felt as if you were on cloud nine, chatting to Yuta like he was your high school crush. Smiling every time he texted back and glancing up every now and then, waiting for him to look at you with that cheeky grin. But as reality set in and Yuta’s smile faded, you were still dating another man. Who now had his arms wrapped around your waist peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulder while Yuta looked on, not being able to do a thing about it.

————————————————————————

The team decided to head out for dinner the next day, and something in Jeno had switched. After Yuta had watched him cuddle you until the day was over, you barely even got the chance to talk to Yuta face to face since Jeno offered to take you home. He was being suspiciously clingy and you wondered if he suspected anything.

“You’re okay with sharing a pasta and plate of fries ?” Jeno smiled over at you, one hand rubbing your waist and the other holding up the wooden menu. You nodded and Jeno placed his order in with Johnny who was doing the rounds for everyone. Yuta sat across from you and you could feel his stare on you from time to time, and the moments it felt like he was staring, Jeno’s grip on your waist got tighter.

“Is...is something wrong ?” you leaned into Jeno as he took a sip of his water. Even though he was smiling, his jaw was clenched signaling that he was trying to suppress himself from doing or saying something. “I'm just really tired” he rubbed your back and to your surprise leaned in to capture your lips. It was innocent but your lack of effort to mind his feelings wasn't good enough for Yuta. Frankly he had no idea where you two stood at the moment, for all he knew you could be playing him right now. It probably wasn't the case though, but Yuta was not really used to his life getting a happy ending. The night drove on and the group split with you, Ten, Doyoung, Taeyong and Renjun seated at the table while the rest of the guys were hanging around the bar babysitting their drinks. Jeno was really a changed man since high school. He was so confident, well-built and a good socialite with the team. You watched him lean against the bar counter, drink in hand entertaining whatever story Lucas had for the night.

“So you and y/n huh ? Have you scored yet ?” Lucas raised his brow cheekily to which Jeno chuckled and shook his head, “Really Lucas ? were talking about my sex life now ?” Yuta was in conversation with Johnny and Sungchan but he couldn't help but overhear your name in the chat next to him.

“Yeah man, I'm sure she’s good too after locking down my boy Yuta” Lucas smirked and Yuta flinched when the boisterous man grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him into the conversation. “Even though they hate each other I just know they had the best hook ups” Lucas laughed despite Johnny trying to make him shut up.

“Well that’s all over now” Jeno’s eyes narrowed on Yuta before looking up at Lucas, “she invited me over tonight and considering the type of pictures she sent me, i'm guessing it’s going to be one hell of a night.” Yuta’s chest felt tight not only at the possibility that you may have invited him over to finally sleep with him but mainly because of the way Jeno spoke about you. He probably only shared that information to appease Lucas but hinting at you sending him nudes was not something you would like the guys to know about.

“She’s really been trying to speed up the process between us too it's cute actually” Jeno continued as Yangyang and Lucas egged him on, “that night after that painting you guys did for Mark Lee she was practically begging me to fuck her after our movie date. God if my brother didn't give me all those errands I would've done so right on the kitchen counter.”

Yuta shot back the rest of his drink and stormed off as Lucas and Yangyang hyped up Jeno, pouring him another shot and laughing erratically in their drunken state. From where you were seated you saw Yuta storm off and watched Johnny run after him worriedly, making you slightly anxious.

“Yuta don't listen to them man '' Johnny huffed as he finally caught up to his friend a few blocks down from the restaurant. “I dont fucking care man I really dont” Yuta chuckled dryly and ran his fingers through his hair, “It doesnt matter because at the end of the day im still the worthless piece of shit and guys like him are God fucking sent.” Johnny watched Yuta’s expression change and he turned around to find you standing there, desperately looking between them for context.

“Yuta what happened ?” you asked in a small voice and the familiar sting in his chest returned, hearing you call out his name, following him out here while Jeno was still inside, it was all just confusing to him.

“I thought you giving us a week meant you felt the same way and I could finally relax knowing you were going to be with me y/n” Yuta groaned in frustration while Johnny took a step away from the heated exchange. You shook your head as you approached him, “yes I did, so what's the problem ?” Yuta scoffed and folded his arms. “What's the problem ? doesn't look like anything’s changed y/n. I have to see you act like the couple of the year after telling you how I felt about you ? That's brilliant.”

“I told you I would speak to him this week” you snapped, unbothered by the now random onlookers who were concerned at the scene taking place. “But fine honestly Yuta if you really want me to say it you have my permission to fuck some random girl until im finally free.” You rolled your eyes about to turn on your heels to leave when you felt a tug on your wrist and Yuta pulled you into a kiss. He held your face in his hands as he kissed you passionately, sighing as he slowly pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours,

“When I said I loved you I fucking meant it y/n, I only want you. But please, if youre going to invite him over or send him dirty...pictures atleast tell him not to tell the whole fucking world about it.”

You took a step back and frowned at his words, “What ? What pictures ?”

“The ones he told Lucas about, y/n honestly I don't care I was just mad that he was airing your business out like that” Yuta bit down on his lip and yet again you were deeply confused as to what he was on about.

“I...I didn't send him anything” you responded, “I didn't invite him over tonight and I definitely haven't sent him any...nudes.”

“Tell that to him then”

You turned around and noticed most of the team was now outside watching the commotion go down and right in front was Jeno, who by the look on his face had most likely seen the kiss you just shared with Yuta.

Jeno approached the both of you with an irritated groan and scoffed, “I was going to ignore the signs but God I was so right, you were still fucking him this entire time ?” You lowered your head and Yuta glared at Jeno, “If you knew all this time why didn't you just break up with her and move on ?”

Jeno rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Yuta to which Johnny quickly responded by placing a firm hand on Jeno’s shoulder making sure the boy was at safe distance from his best friend.

“I'm not like you Yuta” Jeno licked his lips, “unlike you I respect her, I understand that she was going back to you because you like to play around, you never cared about her until I showed up. You were threatened by the fact that you were no longer in control of her.”

“Nobody is in control of me first of all” you chimed in, “and second what’s this about me inviting you over and sending you nudes that apparently the whole fucking bar knows about”

“It's just banter y/n” Jeno shook his head.

“Banter ?” Yuta repeated, “didnt know talking about how you were going to fuck your girlfriend on the kitchen counter in front of her coworkers is banter.”

“What?” you walked up to Jeno, “W-where is this coming from Jeno ? you’re not like this.”

“Well how am I supposed to be y/n ?” Jeno raised his voice, “you wouldn't mind if he said that to you. You're always letting him get away with shit. Im the one sitting around here knowing my damn girlfriend is fucking around with someone else yet somehow still trying to forgive you and figure this out.”

“Why, though ?” you shrugged, “Is it because you want to prove to other people that you're the bigger person ?”

“Would you rather be with someone like him ? someone who will probably throw you aside after he’s bored, or someone like me who was always patient, always willing to put you first no matter what” Jeno reached for your hand, his eyes widening when you shrugged him off.

“Someone who I barely know that talks about me to my friends like im just some kind of whore or someone i've known for a while and not once shared anything intimate that happened between us,” you looked over at Yuta, “It was my one rule, the same rule I gave you Jeno and he was, Yuta is the only one who has abided to it.”

“y/n Im sorry,” Jeno lowered his voice, “we hurt each other and I want to fix that, just make your final decision...me or Yuta”

“Jeno….I apologize for using you, I'm sorry for leading and hurting your feelings” you began and Yuta slowly shook his head and turned around ready to hear the bad news that always seemed to follow him,

“But as crazy as it may sound to everyone here, I'm most like myself when I'm with Yuta, I love the person I am when I'm around him” Yuta turned at your words and instead of the sting he felt a sense of warmth. Hearing you say that in front of everyone who wanted the two of you apart, besides Johnny ofcourse, was absolute bliss.

“Who knows maybe it won't work and it will explode but I really want to try, that's the thing I'm most sure of, I really really want to try” you smiled as Yuta made his way over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Let's get out of here” Yuta whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek and draping his arm over your shoulder as the two of you exited the street walking away from the mess and not even giving it a second glance.

The two of you ended up at your apartment full of smiles and giggles as you slowly discarded your clothes on the way to the bedroom. Once your back touched your soft duvet covers Yuta pressed his body against yours and peppered your skin with kisses all the way up to your ear. “I want to try something different” he whispered and you nodded in response while Yuta pulled his shirt over his head and discarded his jeans. Yuta pulled you on top of his body and returned to your lips, kissing you slowly and passionately. His touches were so delicate and nurturing that every time his fingers ran down your back you felt butterflies in your stomach. You unhooked your bra shimmied out of it, still attached to the addictive taste of Yuta’s lips. He slowly rolled you onto your back and left soft kisses all the way down your neck, down the valley of your breasts until he reached your abdomen. You watched as he pulled your underwear off, looking at your body like it was the most beautiful thing he had seen. That was it. Instead of lust he looked at you with love. He looked like he wanted to take care of you, be gentle with you, savour every moment he had with you. Your breathing hitched when you quickly realized that he inserted himself inside of you and used one arm to steady himself on the bed as he lent down to meet your lips. His strokes were slow but sharp, digging his nails into your thigh from time to time, preventing himself from losing control. Wanting to feel more of him you signaled that you wanted to switch positions and Yuta licked his lips as he watched you place your knees on either side of him and sit down on his member. “F-fuck” he cursed as you began to ride him, keeping to his wishes of keeping things calm and slow. Yuta wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as the two of you kissed in between your moans, twirling your tongue with his as your hips slammed into his.

“Y-Yuta…” you moaned, feeling a tear escape your eye as the long night and the building orgasm caught up with you.

“Yes baby ?” he hummed in your ear.

“I really fucking love you” you sighed, just the words finally leaving your mouth made you sob with joy. It felt so fucking good to finally say it out loud.

Yuta responded by flipping you onto your back and chased both his and your orgasm, fucking you with his usual intensity until you came and he followed straight after, filling the room with heavy pants and both of you trying to catch your breath.

“I love you too y/n” He finally said, bringing you to his chest and pressed his lips against your forehead.

The two of you lay in your bed both napping for a bit until the first sight of dawn began filling the bedroom. You winced at the sun and hid your face in Yuta’s arms as he grinned at your actions.

“I don't want to go to work!” you grumbled.

“Fuck go to work after all the drama you caused ?” Yuta pinched your cheek playfully, earning a nudge in his side from you.

“Anyway” Yuta continued, “I got an email from Taeyong and he said if we want we can work remotely, he gave us the Okinawa project.” You sat up in bed and turned to face him, “the Okinawa project ? Its 9 months in Japan, the same project the whole damn building was trying to get” you blinked, still unsure if Yuta was just fucking with you.

“That's the one” Yuta shrugged, “anyways he said he was going to send either of us anyway since he knows we always get the job done. Oh and he actually said something really funny actually”

“What ?” you raised your brow and watched Yuta reread the text message on his phone.

“He said Doyoung was the one who suggested the two of us be the ones to go, who would've thought ?” Yuta closed the messages and tucked himself back into bed.

“Yeah” you smiled, “Who would've thought.”

THE END

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