#i’m sitting here holding my face and trying not to squeak or sigh dramatically | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mintmatcha · 4 years

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ukai keishin - grumpy

amy!!!! ty so much for the request- i really admire your writing and i hope you like this!!!]

Summary: just a snapshot of your relationship with keishin

Contains: NFSW, 18+, no reader pronouns, reader has a vagina, new relationship/established relationship, soft smut, slight mention of relationship issues.

ukai x reader

word count: 4k

cross posted: ao3

The woody vine digs into the pad of your thumb as you pluck another pepper. The repetition has dug a noticeable indentation into the skin, one that makes you wince every time you harvest a vegetable. In the low light of pre-dawn, sun still tucked behind the mountains, you can't see the bruising on your fingers, but you can feel how it pulses. Popping the digit into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue is automatically soothing, so much so that you can ignore the soft taste of soil on your skin.

“I told you to bring gloves.” Keishin chides, barely looking up at you. He’s squatted a couple feet away, elbows resting on his thighs as he works. The rubber boots, with his oversized overalls crammed into the top, squeak every time he shifts. Pick, squeak, pick, squeak. You open your mouth to tease him, but the way his eyes meet yours, steeled and firm, tell you he’s not in the mood. Cinching his teeth around the worn leather, he pulls his hand from the glove and leaves it dangling from his mouth, lips curled to avoid touching the dust directly. Even in his goofy attire, there’s something about his focus- the downward cast of his eyes, the hint of his canine over the leather, the steadiness of his hands- that makes your heart flutter. Wordlessly, he takes the glove out of his mouth and tosses it your way. You catch it with a fumble.

“Are you sure?” you ask as you pull it on. The tips of the glove gap above your fingertips, bending outward as you clench your fist. “What about you?”

He shrugs and returns to work. Even in the darkness you can see his scowl. “I guess I’m not as delicate as you.”

You didn’t blame him. He doesn’t mean to be this… grumpy. This was the worst time of year for Keishin; harvest season overlapped with volleyball preliminaries. The late nights he had been pulling with the team after work on top of these early mornings at his family’s farm had to be draining. It was no wonder that date nights had become nearly nonexistent. It didn’t help that your work schedule often led to you working on the weekends, meaning that between the two of you there were no free days. Sleepovers are far and few between; both of you still live at home and, despite the fact you are both well into your twenties, your parents weren’t too keen on your sleeping next to someone while unwed. No free days, no free nights.

Again, you didn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he was trying to avoid you, three jobs was a lot for anyone. It was hard to ignore your concern for his well-being, but he was always quick to dismiss your worries. ‘I’m an adult.’ he always insisted. ‘I can balance myself.’

Was it selfish to miss him? Was it selfish to wish there was an extra hour in his day for you?

“You didn’t have to come.” Ukai says, matter-of-fact. “You should be sleeping right now.”

“I want to be here.” you insist. It’s almost a lie. Do you really want to be here, squatting in the dirt, picking vegetables at 5:30am? Of course not, but you wanted to be here for him. With him.

The metal thermos at your feet wobbles as you adjust, the deep squat you’ve been sitting in starting to ache deep in your thighs. Dropping forward onto your knees, the gravel of the path digging into your kneecaps, you wrap your hands around the metal, pressing it against your chest to feel the ambient warmth. The blonde doesn’t turn from his work, but he does tilt his head towards you, a small sign of his attention.

“You gonna hold it or drink it?’

You huff before taking a delicate sip, trying to avoid burning your lips. “I’m savoring it, ‘Shin.”

“ ‘Savoring it.’ ” he repeats. The grit of sleep still clings to his voice. He sounds weathered, tired. “Are you gonna let me ‘savor’ some of that?”

“Maybe.” you take another sip before placing the cup back down, this time closer to him, a silent invitation. It’s like trying to feed a stray cat, luring him in with the promise of something tasty. “If you’re good.”

A long moment passes and he doesn’t move, he just studies you. There may have been a flicker of a smile, a hint of a good mood hiding underneath the surface, but it's gone before you can process it.

“You know.” he says, “I don’t know how you do it.” he continues working with bare hands and, even without protection, he works so much faster than you. You can tell he’s been doing this for years; every twist of his wrist seems practiced. It’s something you try and emulate each time you’re here with him, but it only slows you down more.

“Do what?”

Keishin finally stops. He chews his cheek for a moment, eyes flickering across your features. He opens his mouth, then shuts it with a sigh as he weakly gestures to the thermos at your feet. “The coffee. How do you make the coffee?”

You can’t help but sigh as you fall back onto your seat. You cross your legs as you grab the thermos, taking a deep pull. Again, you savor it with a hum and Keishin snorts at your antics. He picks from the row of plants once more before standing. Hands on the back of his pelvis, he stretches slowly, popping his back with the same care an old man would. It reminds you of his grandfather, but you keep that remark to yourself.

“ ‘Shin, you make yourself coffee every day- probably the same way I do.” you say as he plops himself next to you. The cup is already waiting for him when he reaches for it.

“But yours is always better.” he doesn’t say it with the sweetness of a compliment- he says it like a fact. It shouldn’t make you smile this wide, but it does. He blows over the lid of the mug, watching the steam twist into the air for a moment before taking a drink. It was your coffee, but you had made it for him- just a splash of cream, a crazy amount of sugar: just the way he likes it. The crinkle at the corner of his eye as drinks tells you that he notices.

“Are you savoring it?” you ask. He just closes his eyes and sighs.

"I guess I am."

Even without looking, his pinky finds yours, looping together gently. It's the gloveless hand, finding yours. Bare skin against bare skin, warmth against warm. Your body prickles with warmth as he squeezes; something about him pulling you closer, even if it’s just a finger’s width closer, makes your heart jump. It’s funny how the smallest gesture makes you melt. Keishin didn’t always have a lot to give you; your relationship was a collection of these small moments together, settled between his jobs and yours, but it was enough.

Every moment together is restorative.

“Cinnamon.” you press a kiss into his shoulder as you snag your cup back. He peeks at you through one open eye, “I put cinnamon in the coffee.”

Keishin leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. He nuzzles into your sleeve, drawing in a deep breath, before pulling away to sit up straight again. Reaching back into the row of plants before you, he plucks one carefully before dropping it into the bucket. “Nah, that’s not it.”

You blink. “Uh, yeah. It is.”

“Nah. It’s because it’s made with love.” he smirks.

You pretend to think for a moment. "Actually, I didn't make this cup with love- so you're wrong."

He rolls his head back to watch you. "Oh yeah?"

"I made it with hate."

"Really." he tilts his body, chest pressed against your shoulder.

"You didn’t taste my loathing?" you tease.

The tip of his nose grazes your ear, nudging you softly. His breath warms the side of your face, lips just a moment from your skin. He’s patient, waiting for you to come to him. You try and resist for just a moment, but he nudges you with a huff.

You can’t help but crumble.

There’s a hint of a chuckle as you finally turn to meet his lips. The kiss is off center, connecting at the corner of your mouth. You try to pull back to correct it when a leathered hand grips on to your jaw and he holds your face steady, squishing your lips with sheer force. Ukai doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping your lower lip before dipping into your mouth. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, sweet and bitter. With every movement, he savors you, pulling you deeper and deeper until the both of you are twisted into each other's embrace.

When he pulls away, it’s too soon. It’s not until he’s panting against you that you realize your own lungs are burning for air, almost as if your hunger for him had outweighed your need to breathe.

He hums thoughtfully. “I dunno, tastes like love to me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back your smirk as you lean in for another kiss. “God, you’re the worst, Shin.”

This time, he doesn’t connect. Instead, he pulls away, mouth downturned once again as he stares back into the sea of green. It’s an unfocused stare, focused more on his thoughts than his surroundings.

“Yeah, I kinda am, aren’t I?”

“Hey, what-” you struggle with what to say. “Don’t be like that.”

“I mean, it’s true.” he shrugs. “This is our first date in, what? 3 weeks? And we’re working on my fucking grandpa’s-”

Your elbow cracks against the soft of his ribs, a bit harder than necessary. He wheezes slightly as you knock the air out of him. “Negativity be gone.”

He whines a bit too dramatically. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? Did you learn that from Sugawara? I’m never letting you watch a game ever again.”

It’s hard to hold back your smirk. “I mean- it worked! I’m not going to let you ruin the moment with your nega-!”

“Shut up for a second!” he says and this time he’s the one throwing an elbow. “I’m trying to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend!”

“You shut up!” you mirror him, but he’s ready this time. His response is quick, catching your arms against his. You two continue, poking back and forth roughly, laughter bubbling up. “You don’t need to apologize for being busy!”

“Well, I’m going to.” he grabs the edge of your shirt, leaning into you once again. “Come here and accept it.”

The gravel shifts under your feet as you scramble to stand, pulling out of his grasp. He watches you in confusion as you back away, but his look quickly transforms into something playfully predatory. The shift is wordless, but both of you understand the game that’s about to unfold.

“Come. Here.”

“No way.”

You turn on your heel and run. Keishin’s quick, grunting with effort as he throws himself forward. The sound of his shoes, squeaking against the rock, is faster than you anticipate and you have to force your legs to pump quicker. The cool morning air burns your throat as you barrel down the row, the dew covered leaves brushing against your arms and leaving wet stripes. Something about the simple act of moving dissolves all your tension, all your worries.

You turn your head to check in on your pursuer. Keishin is behind you, running with just as much force as you, but he’s grinning ear to ear with breathless laugh. It’s not his usual mischievous grin, but a soft one. A relaxed one. His baseball cap is halfway off of his head, caught by the wind, but he doesn’t reach to save it. He’s too busy reaching for you.

Everything is quiet except the two of you, laughing breathlessly as you chase each other like children. The sun has just started to crest the mountains, illuminating the sky with a blur of pastels. The pink of the sky reflects in his hair, catching in the glint of his eye as his gaze meets yours, and something in your brain tells you that you’ll remember this exact moment for the rest of your life. You want the moment to freeze, to stay in this childish bliss forever-

-but, of course, it doesn’t.

The rubber toe of Keishin’s boot catches a rock, sending him tumbling forward into a slow fall. He stumbles, catching himself for a moment before falling onto his knees, then his face. With a wince, he rolls on to his back, arms and legs spread eagle in defeat. Oversized pants, chunky boots, a stupid baseball cap: he looked more like an exhausted toddler than an adult. You slow to a jog, trying to pretend his fall wasn’t absolutely hilarious, but your stomach is clenching with the repressed laughter. Backtracking, you join his crumbled form.

“You okay?” you’re panting much harder than you should be. God, shouldn’t the smoker be less athletic?

“No, I think I’m really hurt.”

“Where? Your knees?” you drop to your knees immediately and reach for him, taking his hands in yours. The palm of his non gloved hand is scraped, but there’s no sign of blood.

“My ego.” he groans, “I think I bruised it.”

You let out something that isn’t quite a sigh or a groan. “You jerk.” you lean down and place a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over where it crinkles when he smiles. “You had me worried for a second.”

He cranes forward to press his lips against yours, but only going as far as to brush his lips against yours. Every movement of your lips is a ghost against his, each breath more present than the feeling of skin. Each kiss is just a tease, barely a taste, and it makes you feel hungry. His hand circles your waist before drawing a line up your spine and your hunger deepens, burning deep into your core.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.” he says against your skin, hand guiding you closer to him. You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. It should feel silly, to be laying in the dirt, in the middle of the field, but there’s something so natural about being with him that makes you forget about your surroundings. There’s something natural and unadulterated about being quiet with each other.

“It won’t be like this forever, I promise.” he’s the first to break the silence. “One day, we’ll see each other every day. Just- be patient with me.”

You kiss his shoulder. “You’re worth the wait.” you place another one a few inches upwards. “I miss you, but you’ll always be worth the wait.”

Ukai rolls, throwing a knee over your hips to loom over you. His bangs tickle your forehead as he kisses you. It’s short. “I miss you.”

He places another peck on your lips. “Every day.”

Another kiss catches you off guard. “Every night.”

Another one. This one is long enough for you to kiss back. “Constantly. I miss you constantly.”

You hook a leg over his ass, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons holding his overalls up. “Prove it.”

He hesitates. Tilting his head up, he holds his breath as he scans the row, searching for any signs of movement in the distance. Until now, you had forgotten that other people even exist. The air is still, only the distant sound of crows cutting through the silence. His muscles relax against you after a moment, gaze returning to study your features.

“I missed you.” he leans in and breathes into the shell of your ear before sinking his canines into the lobe. The sharpness sends you keening in surprise, pressing yourself farther into him. He takes the opportunity to tuck his arm under the arch of your back, using the angle to hold your hips against his, his forming bulge pressed right against your core. Your hands are still twiddling with the clasp on his overalls, your proximity to him making the simple task much harder than it should be. Every one of his movements is pulling you into him, like he can’t get you close enough to be satisfied. He sucks on the soft on your neck finishing the hickey off with a bite.

“Why’d you wear these stupid, ugly pants?” you huff as you finally free a button. Ukai breaks away from your neck to laugh before tracing his tongue across the bruise. The warmth surprises you and you can’t stop the whine that escapes you.

“Fuck off.” his free hand easily unclinches your pants before shoving them down. The denim digs into the plush of your thighs as he struggles to place himself between your legs. The ground is cold and coarse against your bare skin, but you can’t focus on anything other than the heat of his breath trailing down your neck.

“Fuck- I missed you.” he repeats as you finally unclasp his overalls and slide them down. They hang off his hips, just low enough for his erection to hang over the fabric, his dooling cockhead resting against your stomach. Firmly, he taps his cock against you with a soft thwack, watching the translucent strings of precum connecting you stretch and break. It dribbles on the hem of your shirt and you want to admonish him for it, but when your eyes meet, his blown out pupils take your words away. The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. All you can do is kick down a pant leg, freeing your leg and allowing it to fall farther open for him.

Keishin slides further down you, greedily dragging the spongy head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. Each pass across your clit makes you twitch, thighs squeezing around his hips. With a wolfish grin, he splits your cunt with his free hand and whistles at the sight.

“I missed this pretty little pussy.” he pressed forward unceremoniously and the head of his cock squeezes into you with a pop. The stretch aches, but something deeper in you is burning for more. “Fuck, look how wet you are… “

He’s quick to bottom out, slamming his hips into yours as if he can’t hold back any longer. His eyes are struggling to stay open as he rolls his hips against you faster, struggling to continue watching your poor pussy struggle to take him. The weeks without him have left you desperate, hips uncontrollably bucking against his. The rhythm is off, your bodies struggling to keep up with each other and just ending up slamming against each other unevenly. It’s wild, it leaves you breathless but your approaching high is so painfully close, neither of you can slow down to gather yourselves.

“You’re so good, fuck, so tight…” his head lolls forward, eyes fluttering closed, “You… so good… so hot… fuck, I missed you.”

Your hands wander up the front of his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. “Ple-ase, Keishin.” you beg, too breathless to say anything else. The sound of your voice makes him crumple over with a whine, fingers digging painfully hard into the fat of your hips as he struggles to pull you impossibly close. His cock twitches, spilling pulse after pulse of hot cum deep inside you.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” he murmurs, hips dragging out of you slowly. The movement makes you feel sloppy, the mixture of his cum and yours spilling down the crack of your ass. The sheer lewdness of it makes your core clench with desire, but the fading heat in your core makes you feel borderline nauseous.

As you begin to untangle yourself, trying to hide your disappointment, he pulls you back in.

“Don’t.” he whispers into your chest. “I’m not- I’m not done with you.”

Ukai’s headband has slipped backwards, barely hanging on to the back of his head. The mess of blonde, half of it plastered to his forehead, tickles your cheek as he kisses your cheek. The edge of desperation is gone, replaced with something gentler, as he rolls back into you. Every bit of friction has been replaced with the slick, warmness of his cum.

“I wanna wake up next to you every day.” Something about cumming has made him sappy. His hand dips low to circle your clit, tracing those practiced patterns you love so much. This time, instead of a fast, dangerous rise, the heat inside you pours slowly, like magma flowing through your core.

“I’m going to buy you a big ol’ house.” he mumbles into your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “And a pretty little ring. And -oh fuck you feel so good- and, and you’re never gonna miss me again.”

God, the term making love is corny, so impossibly cringey, but as he whispers those promises into your skin, you understand it. It’s more about the need to feel closer, the need to hold and be held. It’s three weeks of emotions that neither of you can vocalize.

Fuck, you feel so full. Physically, emotionally. Every caress is tender, delicate and appreciative. Your thumbs trace over his crow’s feet and for the umpteeth time this morning, you savor the moment.

“I wanna be with you forever.”

Everything feels in focus- the friction of his jeans against your knees, the fabric clinging to your stomach, prickled with sweat, the ministrations of your lover’s lips against your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into you- but everything fades as you cum. Your orgasm hits slowly; you don’t even know you’re there until your legs are kicking out uncontrollably. Fingers tangled in the cotton of his shirt, you keen one last time. In the blur, you’re faintly aware of him joining you, his words dissolving into whines.

It takes a heartbeat for everything to still again. Keishin tilts his head up, studying you for a moment before speaking.

“‘M so tired.” he essentially collapses on you, knocking the air out of your lungs. The lay he goes immediately slack in your arms would have been cute if whte weight of his body wasn’t pressing our bare skin into the gravel under you. “I’m gonna nap.”

After quickly ruffling his hair, you press him up, gentling encouraging him to get off. “Come on, sleepyhead, your grandpa’s gonna start looking for us if we’re gone for too long.”

Keishin grimaces, propping himself up onto his elbows as he withdraws from you. The air against the mess on your thighs makes you shiver. “Please don’t mention the old man while I’m still inside you.”

He falls back into his heels and leaves you laying there. Before adjusting himself, he takes your bare leg by the ankle and tries to slip your pant leg back on. The hem gets caught on your heel and he fumbles.

“I can dress myself, Shin, you don’t have to.” you sigh, even as you adjust to make it easier. Denim sticks to your wet skin and he continues to work, completely ignoring your protest. As you lift your hips, letting him slide it past your waist. “Did you mean it?”

He hums a question, buttoning your pants.

“You really wanna spend the rest of your days with me?”

Ukai looks up at you. “Well. Yeah, of course.” he smiles, “Who else is gonna put cinnamon in my coffee?”

#haikyu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #fluff #smut #ukai #ukai keishin #ukai x reader #keishin x reader #ukai keishin x reader #mint's musings

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nebulablakemurphy · 3 years

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Miss American Pie

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

Warning: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader relationship.

Summary: After freeing the widows from chemical subjugation and destroying the red room, you and Yelena finally settle down.

Part 1 & Part 2

The widows welcome you, the ones you trained with and the ones you didn’t. After Dreykov was gone and you had nothing but time. Melina and Alexei go to work on replicating the antidote. Creating enough to free all chemically subjugated agents.

It’ll take time. But the more you free the more are willing to help. Some of the widows just leave once they are given freedom. Ready to wash their hands of all of this and start living. You understand that more than anything. Eventually the operation is running on such a large scale they hardly need you at all.

Natasha hasn’t reached out since you separated after the red room. Probably off with the Avengers trying to save the world again. No one blames her, for her inability to be still. Not even Yelena.

“So,” you plop down on the couch beside Yelena. “What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring up at the ceiling. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to make it this far.”

“Yeah.” You tug at a loose strand of her dirty blonde hair. “That makes two of us.”

“We could pretend to be normal.” Yelena offers. “What would a normal person do?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “I’ve never been one.”

“Maybe...settle down.” Yelena’s eyes are far away.

“Would you have wanted to-“ You break off, trying to sort out the words. “I mean if you could…would you have a baby?”

She raises her brows, “I never thought about it.” A long pause. “I wouldn’t know how to be a mother.”

Neither would you. You’ll never be right. Whatever that is, was, or might have been. Always a little too guarded and rough around the edges. “You never waste time thinking about things you can’t have.” You sink farther into the cushions, her pinky skates over your own. Taking the invitation you twine your fingers together.

“I thought about you.” She lowers her eyes to the coffee table. “Everyday. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I-“

“The red room took that from me too.”

You shake your head at her. “They can never take anything from you or anyone else ever again,” you whisper. “And to be clear you can have me.”

A laugh rumbles out of her chest at the news. “I can?”

“I mean if you still want me.” You tease, “I know that the chase is half the fun for you. So I can keep on running. I’m one foot out the door-“

“I am tired of running.” Yelena murmurs, curling up against your side.

“Me too.” Your chin rests atop her head.

“Then stop doing it!” She scolds, slapping your arm playfully in retaliation.

“I will if you will.” You know why she runs. The same reason you do. Because you’re afraid. That maybe some parts of you are too broken to love.

She mulls it over for a moment. “Truce. I don’t run. You don’t run.”

“Deal.” You give her fingers a squeeze.

“Except into the face of danger.” She clarifies, only half kidding. “Then we run, straight ahead.” Yelena motions with her free hand. “But together.”

“Together.” You agree, with a soft smile.

“We could get a dog.” The tone of her voice tells you that she is invested in the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog.” You prop your feet up on the coffee table.

Yelena hates anything but a straight answer. Still feeling the need to convince you, she presents the facts. “Dogs are really cool! They have special powers.”

You chuckle, “dogs do not have powers.”

“Yes!” Yelena argues, “they can predict natural disasters and judge character.”

“That’s a special power?” You quip, “I can do that too.”

She grumbles under her breath.

“I want one.” You sigh. Feeling all the tension leave her body.

“I knew you did.” She smiles, contently.

———————————————————————

Dogs might have powers, but the only thing your puppy currently seems to posses is the ability to chew up anything in her path.

“Yelena have you seen my-“ you pause, taking in the scene before you, “shoes.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yelena holds up a hand.

The tiny puppy beside her squeaks, not quite a bark yet. Your demolished sneaker tumbling to the ground.

“What happened?” You run both hands over your face.

She sweeps the dog into her arms. “I told Fanny we could go for a walk once you got out of the shower. She was excited, Y/N! She was trying to bring your shoes to you. But she got distracted, only a little.”

“A little?” You can’t help but smile.

“Look at this face,” Yelena waves Fanny’s paw at you. “You can’t be mad at this face. Tell her girl. Say, you can’t be mad at me Mom, I’m trying my best.” She brings the dog closer.

You raise a hand to pet Fanny lightly. Yelena’s right of course, there is no being mad at that face. “Let me find a pair of shoes that isn’t mangled. Then we’ll go for a walk.”

“I’ll wait with Fanny.”

“Of course you will.” You retreat to your bedroom. Rummaging through the closet in search of some sort of footwear. You’d settle for slippers at this point. Fanny joins you after a moment. Nuzzling at your ankle as she whines.

It’s not everyday that she follows you, she is Yelena’s dog and never lets you forget it. “You’re really excited aren’t you?” More whining. You scoop Fanny up. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You huff, finally locating a pair of sandals. Slipping them on quickly so you can return to Yelena and gloat about being Fanny’s favorite. “Hey baby, I don’t know what you did, but look.” You smile, gazing up as you present the dog…to an empty room. That’s odd. Maybe she’s waiting outside.

You grab the leash Yelena abandoned on the countertop, securing it to Fanny’s collar. “Come on girl. Let’s go find Mama. Where’s Mama?”

Fanny follows you out the door, onto the walkway.

“Yelena?”

Nothing.

You scan the area, no sign of her. “Ok…” Back into the house, you check the bathroom next.

“Yelena!” You shout, knowing you’ll feel stupid once she replies. But she doesn’t.

A buzzing from the cell phone in your back pocket draws your attention. You set Fanny down gently, accepting the call and moving the device up to your ear. “Alexei?”

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” His voice booms through the speaker.

“Are you ok?” You ask immediately. Leaning down to grab the television remote, turning to channel thirteen, still broadcasting it’s usual gameshow.

“I am alone.” He cries through the speaker. “Melina left me with her pigs.”

“What do you mean she left you?” Something is very wrong.

“She disappeared.” He says somberly, “didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The dramatic monologue continues. “I give her back rub every night and then-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Absolutely not.” Under no circumstance is he going to tell you what happens next.

“I have made mistakes, but this! This is cruel.” Alexei, clearly distraught begins cursing in Russian.

“Alexei, I know you’re upset but I need you to listen.”

“What?” He asks. “What is it?”

“Yelena is gone too.” You inform him. Your eyes flicker over the words at the bottom of your tv screen. “People disappeared all over the world.”

You fall back onto the couch, feeling all the air leave your lungs.

More hysteria on the other end of the line. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna find Natasha. Maybe she knows something.” Assuming that Natasha is still here.

“What about me?”

“Come to Ohio. You can dog sit.” You offer, familiar numbness seeps into your limbs.

“I have nine pigs!” Alexei shouts back.

“We have a backyard, don’t worry.” You hang up before he has a chance to argue.

You return to the call screen. Scrolling to find a different contact. Pressing the dial button beside her name.

It rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello.”

“Natasha,” you let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What the hell happened?”

——————————————————————

The Avengers fortress isn’t exactly how you imagined. Not very homey.

You park your car in the lot. Removing your keys from the ignition and stowing them in your back pocket. The clear rectangular keychain with a picture of you and Yelena inside sticks out. Clinking when you round the vehicle to retrieve Fanny from the passenger seat. “Come on, Fanny.”

She wags her tail, waiting expectantly to be carried.

“You’re spoiled, you know.” You sigh, taking the puppy into your arms and closing the door behind you.

The front gate is open but Natasha takes a moment to locate. She cut her hair up to her shoulders, dyed it blonde. “Hello stranger.”

“You got a dog.” She says, in greeting.

“Yeah.” You reply, not in the mood for small talk. “It was Yelena’s idea.”

“I knew she’d sucker you into that.”

“It’s not like she could make me do anything I didn’t want to.” Your finger slides along the edge of the metal table Natasha’s seated behind.

She barks a laugh, “that’s a lie.”

Maybe so. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Still cool. I like the hair too,” you motion toward her blonde locks.

“That’s not really mine either, is it?” She remarks.

“Is anything ever really ours?”

“No.” She frowns. “I guess not.”

“What happened?” You ask again.

“It’s a long story,” Nat crosses both arms over her chest. “You might want to take a seat.”

You clear your throat, pulling out the chair beside her. Fanny curls up in your lap, curious eyes darting about every now and then. You tell yourself it’s because she’s in a new place, but part of you knows, she’s looking for Yelena.

Natasha stares down at her hands. “Have you ever heard of infinity stones?”

You shake your head. “Must be an avenger thing.”

“There were six of them, scattered all over the galaxy. If a person has all six they can use them in anyway they choose. Thanos, used them to eliminate half of all living creatures.”

“Are you the only one left?” You lean in.

“No.” She sniffs, blinking away tears. “There’s others.”

“So where are they?” The place looks abandoned. “Why aren’t you charging into battle?”

“Because we lost. Probably the worst we’ve ever lost.” Natasha clenches her jaw. “By the time we found Thanos again he already destroyed the stones.”

“We’ll try again.” You decide immediately. This isn’t over.

“Will we?” Natasha shakes her head with a smirk.

“If she was gone for good I would know it.” You tell her truthfully. “I would feel it, in my heart and I don’t.”

“You didn’t see it happen. I saw him snap his fingers and-“

You lay your hand over hers, squeezing tight.

“Did you see her go?” She asks, voice just above a whisper. “Yelena. Did you see her?”

“No.” You confess, “I didn’t see.”

Natasha closes her eyes. “That’s why you still have hope.”

“Look maybe you’re right.” You shrug, “even so, now seems like a really stupid time to give up.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fanny.” You inform her.

“Come on.” She rolls her blue eyes. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you didn’t actually name a dog after one of those stupid aliases Rick made me.”

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“I guess a dog’s better than a pig.” Natasha reasons. “Are they still here?”

“Not Melina.” You break the news quickly. Like tearing off a bandage. “But Alexei and all nine of her pigs are on their way to our house in Ohio.”

“Sounds crowded.”

“Always room for one more.”

——————————————————————

You stay like that for a long time. Hopeful. Sure that this was all some nightmare that you could wake up from; fight your way out of.

And then five years passed.

Now you come to see Natasha twice a month, just to check in. Alexei and his pigs have taken up permanent residency in the home you bought with Yelena. As for you, you bounce around. Never staying in one place too long.

“Any news?” You wonder, leaning against the doorframe of Natasha’s meeting room.

“No.” She bites out. Kicking her foot up on the desk. “You should move on.”

“Is that what you call this?” You flick your wrist in her direction. “Crying into a peanut butter sandwich.”

“It’s therapeutic.” She waves the bread at you. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” You take a seat, reaching across to make a sandwich of your own. “It’s not the sandwich’s fault.”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” Steve says, announcing his presence. Captain America is as self righteous as ever.

“Didn’t you grieve for a century over a girl you kissed one time?” You arch a brow at him, licking wayward peanut butter from the pad of your thumb. “Five years is just a drop in the bucket.”

Steve purses his lips, you have a point. “It wasn’t a century.”

“Close enough.” You mumble around a mouthful of your dinner.

“Want a bite?” Natasha offers half of her sandwich to him.

“No thanks.” He takes a step closer. “I’d offer to make you a real dinner, but already look pretty miserable. Where’s your dog?”

“Visiting her granddad.” Everyone and their mother loves that damn dog.

“Oh yeah, my great adversary.” How could he ever forget. “Is he still wearing that stupid suit?”

“I’m pretty sure the suits are stowed away. But it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Your mind wanders to the vest. The one Natasha returned to you after Yelena was gone. The one you retired because it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does.

Most things remain untouched in the Ohio house. Your pictures. Your memories. Your plans. You can’t get rid of them. Can’t stomach being around them either.

Someone, a man, alerts the security cameras, pounding on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello! Can you hear me?”

“How old is this video?” Steve asks, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s the front gate.” Natasha breathes, enlarging the image.

“Do we know him?” You squint at the man in question.

“It’s me, Scott Lang, Antman. I met you guys at the airport in Germany a few years ago. I had a mask on, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.” He rambles on.

Natasha presses the access panel, opening the gate.

You straighten yourselves out, before he makes it down the long hallway into the common room.

Scott paces, a lot. Nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Scott.” Steve finally cut in. “Are you ok?”

“Have any of you ever studied quantum physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok. Alright so, five years ago. Right before Thanos. I was in the quantum realm. The quantum realm is like it’s own little microscopic universe. To get in there you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my uh-“ he trails off. “She was my…she was- she was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry that must have been a long five years.” Natasha apologies.

“That’s the thing, for me it wasn’t.” Scott replies. “It was five hours.”

“What a trip.” You snort, absently toying with your belt loop.

“The rules of time are different there. See everything is unpredictable.” He explains, getting distracted by the food in your hand. “Are you gonna finish that?”

“I guess not.” You hold it out to him.

He accepts, gratefully stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“Scott! What are you talking about?” Steve demands.

“So what I’m saying is time works differently in the quantum realm. The only problem is we don’t have a way to navigate it. But if we did, if we could somehow control the chaos; to enter the quantum realm at a certain point in time and exit at another point in time…like,” Scott locks eyes with you then. “Like before Thanos.”

You nod.

“Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve sighs, running a hand over his tense forehead.

“No. No of course not. Not like a time machine but like a…yeah.” There’s no other word for it. “Like a time machine. I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it! There gotta be some way.”

“Scott,” Natasha calls his attention. “I get emails from a raccoon. So nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“So who do we talk to about this?” His eyes flicker between the three of you.

“Don’t look at me.” You hold both hands up. “That’s way above my pay grade.”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @3and30aresoultwins

#yelena belova x reader #marvel fanfiction #yelena belova #black widow #black widow fanfiction #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #yelena belova imagine

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 17

Chapter 1 Chapter 16

Marinette shook her head and tried to hide her giggles. Red Robin had to have thought he was being discrete, right? Unless he was intentionally making himself known as a way to intimidate any more rogues from trying to get to her. He was discrete enough that the average person probably wouldn’t notice him, but anyone paying attention, looking for him, would see him easily.

She waited until he was looking down at her again and waved at him. He smiled and waved back before blushing, shaking his head, and motioning for her to continue. Marinette grinned and looked back at the map on her phone. The restaurant Jason chose was around here somewhere. One of the places he just ended up at a lot, he said. Low key and cozy, exactly the kind of place she needed right now.

After that, he said he was planning on following her around for the rest of the day. He’d said it in a joking tone, but she knew there was nothing joking about his intent. He would be shadowing her for the rest of the day. He couldn’t hide the gravity behind the statement. He couldn’t mask the concerned questions, no matter how casually he tried to play them off. The insistence on seeing her apartment, make sure the view was good enough and the kitchen was stocked enough. The way he casually suggested she teach him how to make a baked good she liked.

Honestly, she was shocked he let her walk there on her own, but he said he’d be have eyes on her anyway. She looked back up at Red Robin with a smile. Clearly, he wasn’t kidding. White lensed eyes. The smile quickly morphed into a frown when she couldn’t see him. He hadn’t been hidden this whole time, so where was he now? She squeaked and whirled around into a fighting stance when she heard someone land behind her. She barely had time to put her hands down before Red Robin was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder while he looked around, eyes sharp and calculating.

Marinette followed his lead and scanned the crowd. In lieu of knowing what she was looking for, she kept her eye out for anything that seemed out of place. Everything looked normal though. Nothing seemed suspicious. There were a few people throwing them odd looks, but nothing that seemed hostile or calculating, instead it seemed more curious and fearful of what having a vigilante dropping down in the middle of the night meant for them.

Red Robin turned back to face her. “Let’s get you somepl…” his hand went up to his ear. “Shit!”

Marinette’s eyes widened in fear. “What happened? Did someone get hurt?”

Red Robin’s eyes looked around them again and narrowed at one of the buildings. He moved his arm to her back and firmly pushed her toward the building. “Nobody is hurt.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “But…”

“There’s just an issue that needs attention, but nobody has been hurt,” he assured her, looking down briefly to meet her eyes.

Marinette nodded uncertainly, not feeling calmer with his reassurance. She couldn’t see his eyes past the white filters to gauge his sincerity, and it was unsettling. “So my friend and brother, my… the Waynes, they’re… nobody is hurt?”

Red Robin paused almost imperceptibly. If she hadn’t become used to his constant pressure on her back, she wouldn’t have noticed. He looked back down at her as they walked, the tense muscles in his face softened considerably. “They’re all safe. Your friend and brother and family. They’re all safe. I promise. I just need to go assist someone, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “I can defend myself you know.”

Red Robin gave her a deadpan expression. She’s sure if he didn’t have a mask, he’d have his own eyebrow raised at her. “After last night, you can understand that we and your family are a bit concerned and perhaps a bit overprotective just right now.”

Marinette rolled her eyes with a sigh but didn’t fight him. “So you’re going to, what? Hide me in some abandoned office until everything blows over? That sounds safe.”

Red Robin huffed out a laugh. “Absolutely safe. That is our standard approach. I’m glad you understand how we operate.” He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher with his mask in the way. “No. I think your family would hunt me down if I did something so reckless with you. They’re quite protective, you know?”

Marinette opened her mouth to say something but shut it quickly. He was a stranger. There was absolutely no reason to get into her family dynamics with him. “No,” he continued, oblivious to her uncertainty. “I’m going to stash you with someone we know we can trust.”

Marinette looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “A babysitter.”

The corners of Red Robin’s mouth quirked up. “Well, if you’re going to whine like a baby…” he teased.

Marinette gasped dramatically. “If you want whining, I can show you whining. I grew up with the most spoiled brat in existence. I can give new meaning to the word.” Red Robin actually laughed as he opened the door to the business. “You know, I’m supposed to meet my… um… br… brother,” she stuttered over the word. “Jason’s going to wonder about me.”

Red Robin cringed slightly. “You should probably text him. It isn’t a good idea for you to go out until this is resolved.” Marinette nodded and shot a text off to Jason letting him know she was okay and Red Robin was putting her somewhere safe for a bit.

They heard movement from the building, finally drawing Marinette’s attention to the business they had gone into. “Can I help… T… Red Robin? Marinette?” Roy asked pushing out from behind a motorcycle with its transmission in his hands.

“Hey, I was hoping you could watch Marinette while I take care of something. You’re a friend with the Waynes right?” Red Robin asked pointedly.

Roy stared at him for a few seconds before realization set in. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re like fam…” he looked over to Marinette, “well, not family family. But, uh, yeah.”

Red Robin cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips. “No, I’m pretty sure you are con…” he was cut off by something in his com. He paused for a moment to listen before turning back to Roy with what Marinette was pretty sure was supposed to be a glare. “I’m trusting you,” he growled. “There’s some madness going on.”

Roy’s face turned serious and he gave him a determined nod. “I’ll protect her. Go.”

Red Robin looked between them for a second then nodded and took off. Roy and Marinette watched him leave for a second before turning back to each other. Marinette gave him a shy smile. “Hi,” she waved sheepishly. “Sorry to just drop in on you like this.”

Roy gave her a welcoming smile and motioned to the garage bay. “Not at all. I guess you’re just visiting sooner than we anticipated. Can’t say I’m upset at all.” He moved some parts off of a stool and motioned toward it for her to sit. “I should say sorry that you have to hunker down here. You definitely look like you were going somewhere a bit nicer.”

Marinette looked down at her outfit analytically, a blood red, long-sleeved blouse, black skinny jeans, and black heeled boots. She’d wanted to wear ladybug colors after the previous night in the Riddler’s facility and the Wayne dining room. Ladybug colors always reminded her of the strongest, most resilient parts of herself. She looked back up at him, her eyes catching on the coat rack behind him. “Excuse you. All I need is that jacked over there and I’d fit right in. In fact, I’d match your baby.”

Roy looked to where she was looking, seeing his black leather jacket hanging up. He blushed slightly at the idea of her wearing his jacket. He could picture it on her, the jacket hanging loosely off of her significantly smaller frame, her clinging to him as they rode on his bike… He looked back at her with a soft look. “And you would still be too classy to be here.”

Marinette pouted at him. “You say that like I don’t fit in.” She didn’t want to say the ‘with you’ that was running through her head. Did he think she wouldn’t fit with him? “I can fit. I can even be helpful.”

Roy shook his head. “No, not at all just…” He motioned to his own clothes, an old tee, stained jeans, and a backwards ball cap that was just as stained with grease as his jeans, and then motioned to her.

Marinette looked between the two of them and grinned. “You underestimate my ability to get dirty. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be as dirty as you.”

Roy’s eyes snapped to the wrench in his hand. Based on the complete lack of amusement or sultriness in her eyes, she did not at all realize what she just said. He took a few seconds, it may have been minutes, to calm his heart and mind. “Okay, how about you prove it?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Prove what?”

“That you can be helpful. Roll up those sleeves and help me with this engine.” He motioned to the transmission on the workbench next to her. “I can also get you some coveralls so your outfit won’t get dirty if you prefer.” He looked back at her with an amused glint in his eyes. “They’ll be a bit big on you…” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him but his eyes danced with even more amusement at her reaction. “Since you’re so litt…”

“You know what…” she cut him off, standing to get in his personal space. She stared up at him, her eyes meeting his for a moment before her cheeks burst into color. She looked away and cleared her throat. After a second to recover, she motioned to the transmission as she rolled up her sleeves. “Just tell me what you’re doing and how I can help.”

Roy grinned and twirled the wrench in his hand. “Yes, ma’am.”

He leaned over the transmission and started loosening one of the nuts holding the piece together. His hand faltered for a fraction of a second when Marinette leaned next to him, close enough for him to feel her breath as she let out a sigh, close enough to feel her body heat. Close enough he could easily wrap his arms around her and pull her against him. He had to tighten his hands to keep them from reaching over.

He took a breath to focus. Now was not the time. She had just been kidnapped and people could take a bit of time to recover from something like that, especially considering the things she had said about having a breakdown. He flicked his eyes over to her trying to assess how she was doing. Her eyes were intently watching his hands as they moved around the transmission. They were sharp and her body seemed to be relaxing the longer she watched him work. If he didn’t know better, he’d never know she had been kidnapped and threatened the night before.

She looked up at him questioningly when his hands stilled as he analyzed her. He gave her a small smile and motioned toward the tool box. “Um… I need… Can you, um, get me the, um… 5/16th wrench, please?” he stuttered.

Marinette jumped up to search through the wrenches in the box. She frowned, her lip jutting out as she searched. “I don’t see it here. Is there somewhere else it could be?”

Roy’s face scrunched as he tried to remember where else he might have used it. He’d been working on the bike almost all day. He looked back at the motorcycle trying to remember what he had done with it. He was broken from his concentration by Marinette’s light giggle. He looked over to her with a raised brow.

Marinette looked away quickly, another blush on her cheeks. She followed where his line of sight had been and searched around the motorcycle, focusing her energy on her search for the wrench instead of the adorable face he made when he was concentrating and the way his nose wrinkled up in thought and his lips quirked to the side. After a minute of looking she shook her head and held her empty hands out for him to see.

“Any other ideas?” she asked as she came back over to her stool.

Roy sighed deeply and scanned the workbench. He had a backup set of wrenches, but he knew he had used that one recently. It couldn’t have gone too far. His attention was brought back to Marinette when she giggled again, her giggles turning into full blown laughter. He gave her a confused look which made her laugh louder. She reached over the workbench, almost climbing onto it to grab the wrench that was behind the transmission. She held the wrench out to him triumphantly with a smug, teasing smile on her lips.

Roy fought choking on air at the sight of her climbing onto his workbench and all the images that immediately flooded into his mind involving that particular scenario, especially in his jacket… and nothing else. He took the wrench, hoping she believed the blush he knew was on his cheek was from embarrassment rather than where his thoughts had gone. “Thanks,” he managed to mutter out.

“Anytime,” she grinned back. “See?” she motioned to herself. “Helpful.”

Roy chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around then.”

Marinette chuckled and let her focus settle back on the part he was working on. She watched his hands move effortlessly and confidently over the pieces. “Flathead screwdriver,” he asked, holding out his hand for her. She quickly grabbed one and slapped it in his hand like he was a surgeon. He looked up at her with a grin. “Thanks, nurse.”

Marinette shook her head and let her gaze pass over the garage bay. She quirked her head to the side when her eyes settled on a bow leaning up against the wall by the door. “What’s with the bow?”

Roy’s head jerked up. His eyes immediately found his bow and quiver. He looked back at her with an almost natural smile. “Oh, I just… like to shoot.”

“It’s yours?” she asked perking up.

“Yeah… I just pulled it out… recently.” His eyes flicked to the cut on her cheek quickly before returning to the transmission.

Marinette looked back at the bow. “That sounds fun. I always wanted to learn. How did you learn?”

Roy’s eyes took on a far off look and a sentimental smile spread on his lips. “My father, my adopted father.”

“Oliver?” Marinette asked, confusion clear in her voice as she tried to reconcile the sentimental smile with his description in the bar.

“Ah, so you know,” Roy said quietly, eyes suddenly in focus and pointed at the transmission.

Marinette gave him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. Damian… he um… thought I knew,” she stuttered out. She really didn’t want to get into that conversation right now. She was sure Roy would be upset and it was just something she wanted to leave between her and Damian, not someone else. “He just mentioned it yesterday.”

Roy nodded and flicked his eyes up to her for a second, gauging her reaction, waiting for the questions. There were always questions. Questions about Oliver, questions about their relationship, questions about their money. The exact combination might change but they were always there. “Sorry for bringing it up,” she said quietly.

Roy shook his head, with a small smile. “No. It isn’t your fault. No not Oliver. It was before Oliver. My birth father died saving me from a forest fire and a man named Brave Bow adopted me. He raised me. He was a really good man. He taught me how to be a good person and how to shoot… and just about everything else I know.”

The smile on Roy’s face made Marinette smile too. “He sounds like a good father.”

Roy nodded. “He was,” he said quietly. He looked over at her hesitantly before focusing back on the piece he was working on. “How are you feeling?”

Marinette quirked her head to the side. “Feeling? Not as useful as I could be. A burden on you more than a help, if I’m being honest,” she shrugged.

Roy snorted. “Sorry, I’ll try to get you to do more of my work for me.” He sent her a smirk that got an eye roll out of her. “And I would never call you a burden. In fact, I’d fight to keep you nearby,” he added quietly, no longer meeting her eyes. He tried to focus on the transmission but he could feel her eyes on him, making it impossible to think of anything else.

After a few seconds he cleared his throat. “I mean after,” he motioned toward her face, his hand still grasping the gear he had just removed. “How are you handling it? The Riddler’s no joke.”

Marinette scoffed and picked up a wrench. She spun it in her hand as a distraction while she spoke. “He really isn’t. I didn’t find him funny at all.” Roy gave her a flat look and returned to working on the part, letting her decide to continue discussing it or not. “How did you know?” she asked quietly.

“He broadcast it to all Gotham. Everybody knows. Everybody saw you deliver the verbal smack down of the century,” he grinned at her. “It was inspiring. You were amazing.”

“I was pissed is what I was,” she grumbled. She looked away and sighed, running her hand over her face and grimacing when she accidentally touched her cut. “I forgot everyone would see that.”

She stared at the wrench as she twirled it in her hands. She knew the Waynes probably knew she was taken. She’d called Jason to let him know she was fine, but had pretended she had to go talk to the police and cut the call short. She really didn’t want to talk to them after the scene at dinner. She didn’t want to have the conversations she knew they were going to want to have. She just wanted to move on. It didn’t have anything to do with them, especially the kids. It was her past, one they had no way of knowing about and no way of helping with. There was no reason to hash through it all again.

But she hadn’t realized they would get to see the full video. She frowned at the thought. She’d said so much while she was yelling and she couldn’t remember what all she had said. It was a moment of weakness that now the entire city, possibly the world now knew about. Thankfully she was positive she didn’t mention anything about the miraculous so to anyone watching she would have looked like any other normal, non-miraculous wielding person.

And on top of it all, she wasn’t sure if she was grateful or upset that M. Wayne hadn’t reached out to see if she was alright. All of the kids had even Lucius had, but not him… or Alfred. After the way she left, he might not feel like he’s allowed to. But still… he hadn’t bothered to check on her at all.

She looked up with a weak smile. “Guess I’ve truly experienced Gotham now.”

Roy grimaced. “Sorry about that.” He watched her as she seemed to work through her feelings on the matter, going from annoyed to hurt. He returned his attention to the engine part. “I think I need to start calling you Fire Flower.”

Marinette looked up at him curiously. “Fire Flower?”

“Yeah,” he looked up briefly with a spark in his eyes. “It’s like a fire cracker, but cuter. More impressive to look at.” Marinette blushed and looked down, accidentally dropping the wrench she had been playing with. Roy grinned widely at her before focusing back on his work. “You sure you feel safe?” he asked, still focusing on the engine.

Marinette nodded. “I have Adrien and Max. We might not look like we can protect ourselves, but we’re pretty good at it.” Actually incredibly well. She was possibly the best protected person in the world right now, but he didn’t have any way of knowing that.

“I’m actually pretty surprised Adrien isn’t with you right now or Max.” He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.

Marinette nodded. “You’re not wrong. They would be but Max just started work and couldn’t really take a day off immediately and Adrien had a job interview in Metropolis today. And this is the one he’s really excited about. I was supposed to go with him and check out Metropolis, but then I wouldn’t have had anyone with me while he was in the interview and that made them a bit too nervous. Here at least they know I have the bats following me at all times so, they were pretty confident I was safe.”

“The bats are keeping an eye on you, huh?” Roy asked with a secretive grin.

Marinette nodded. “I’m not sure if they’re trying to be subtle, but yeah. I don’t know what kind of relationship they have with the Waynes. They mentioned… the bats certainly act like they talk a lot and know each other well.”

Roy froze for a second. Well, they certainly weren’t being as discrete as they normally are, it would seem. Although after last night, he could imagine they were pretty flustered. He had been and she was just an acquaintance to him. He wanted it to be more but… that wasn’t the point. But at this rate, she was going to figure it out before they told her and he didn’t imagine that going well for them. “So you’ve caught them a few times?”

“Caught is a liberal term for it. Is it catching if they aren’t really hiding? I think Red Robin might have been trying… maybe, but Batman was on our balcony, standing vigil all night last night.”

Roy glanced over for a second. “Batman was watching over your apartment last night?”

Marinette nodded. “Markov said he was there until Red Robin took over some time around breakfast.”

Roy paused for a few seconds then tapped the screwdriver against the workbench. “And… Bruce? Did Bruce check in on you?”

Marinette looked away and licked her lips before pursing them. She twisted the wrench around a few more times, focusing entirely on that, not meeting Roy’s eyes. “No,” she finally said in a falsely calm voice. “I… I didn’t… Dinner didn’t go so well.”

Roy moved closer to her until he was close enough to reach her comfortably but still gave her space so he wasn’t crowding her. He ducked his head to try to meet her eyes. She yielded quickly and met his eyes. “He’s worried about you. I guarantee you he is. He’s just… shit at emotions and reading a room.

“If you guys fought, I promise you he isn’t less worried about you, he’s just afraid that seeing him or hearing from him will upset you more. I promise you he’s finding out everything he can about how you are from anyone that will tell him. He cares. Your fight didn’t push him away. He’s just a fucking idiot. And an asshole, so there’s like a 97% chance if you did fight, it was his fault. And he probably knows that, just not how to make it up to you.”

Marinette huffed out a laugh despite her eyes suddenly turning glassy. “I don’t need him to make it up, just… it’s not even his fault. It was mine really.” She fiddled with the wrench in her hands, testing the strength, trying to bend it, focusing on that as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

“I doubt it.” He sighed and readjusted his cap as he tried to come up with the right words. “I’ve found that when bad things happen at the manor it’s almost always because Bruce was being a controlling little bitch.” Instead of laughing, she frowned at the wrench. Right, calling her father, she’s trying to connect to a ‘controlling little bitch’ probably isn’t really helping. He sighed and looked back up trying to figure out how to remove the frown. It didn’t look right on her face. She should be smiling. Always. “Do you want a hug?”

Marinette finally looked up from the wrench in surprise. After a second she gave him a weak smile and shook her head, returning her focus to the wrench. “I’m fine.”

Roy lightly placed his hand on the wrench to stop its motion. “That’s not what I asked,” he said gently.

She blinked at him a few times before a smirk quirked her lips up. “I mean… I’m not going to object to a handsome man wrapping his arms around me,” she answered slyly, throwing his words from days earlier back at him. Roy grinned and wrapped his arms around her, gently at first but holding her tighter as the hug went on. His arms were strong and reassuring, giving a sense of warmth and safety and Marinette quickly found herself melting into his embrace. She nuzzled into his chest and dear God, she could feel his muscles moving through his shirt with every minute movement.

She tried to hide her frown when he pulled away after a few minutes. But, it turned into a smile when he stopped after a few inches, just enough to look down at her. Roy smiled softly and rubbed her cheek with his thumb a few times. Marinette leaned into his hand, captivated by the feel of his hand on her face. He started to lean down but jumped away with the sound of clattering right next to them. Roy moved in front of her, caging her in behind him as he looked for the source of the sound.

Marinette grimaced and leaned down to pick up the wrench that had slipped through her fingers when she was looking at Roy. He chuckled awkwardly and moved back to his transmission. He started working on it again a lot slower than he had been before. His hands were shaking slightly. He could still feel the traces of her on his fingers and around his chest, trilling through him. “Can you… um… the. Can you hand me the Phillips head, please?” he stuttered, unable to get his mind settled.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, her cheeks still bright red, as her mind tried to kick back into gear. She looked at the tools in the toolbox and back to him. “Is… that’s a tool, not like a horror movie thing, right?”

Roy blinked a few times before breaking out in laughter. Marinette smiled at his laughter, beyond grateful for the change of topic. “The one with the cross for a head,” he said motioning toward the screwdrivers.

“Oh,” Marinette nodded in understanding. “Tournevis cruciform,” she muttered to herself as she searched through the tools for the right screwdriver. “Americans and their naming things.”

Roy grinned at her outrage. “And what do you call it? The cross screwdriver.” he teased.

“That is literally what it translates to,” she deadpanned.

Roy puckered his lips in an attempt at keeping a smile off his lips and make his annoyed wrinkled brow more believable. “Oh, well I bow to your superior naming capabilities,” he snarked with a fake bow.

Marinette nodded graciously and passed the screwdriver to him. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

Roy laughed and returned to the transmission, pretending like he could focus on that instead of the kiss they almost had. Marinette watched, almost transfixed as he moved the gears synchronously on the transmission, creating intricate and ever changing patterns. She pulled her sketchbook and pencil out to capture a sudden idea.

“The wrench?” Roy called out, not looking up from the transmission. He held out his hand and waited for a few seconds before adding, “Please?” He waited a little longer before repeating it a bit louder. “Wrench, please?” He finally looked up when she still hadn’t handed it to him. “Marinette?” He looked over to her concerned. His face immediately softened when he saw her.

Marinette’s face was frozen in intense concentration on her sketchbook as she drew confidently and without hesitation. She held the sketchbook out and tilted it slightly. She narrowed her eyes at it and tilted it a different way. Her mouth curved into a satisfied smirk before she added in more details and notes. Her eyes lit up with inspiration, bright and clear. She shook her head to get a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, hands too busy committing her inspiration to paper to waste time with such trivialities. Roy shook his head, mentally berating himself for having backed off before. She had been right there and leaning toward him. Maybe Jason and Dick… and Tim and Damian, were right. He was an idiot.

Before Roy realized what he was doing, he had reached out to tuck it behind her ear, being careful to avoid her cut as his fingers brushed her face. Marinette jumped at the unexpected contact. She looked up at him wide eyed but a sheepish look quickly overtook her expression. She looked down in embarrassment, but that only pressed her face further into Roy’s hand, which made her embarrassed blush deepen but not due to embarrassment this time. “Sorry. Did you need a tool?”

Roy shook his head. He smiled and moved his hand slightly so it was cupping her face this time. “It’s fine. I was enjoying watching you get caught up in inspiration.”

Marinette looked down again and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. It is probably the most embarrassing face.”

Roy smiled softly at her, his eyes shining with sincerity and fondness. “No. It wasn’t. It was cute.” He took a step closer to her and leaned a bit closer, more intimately. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it more.”

“More of my too distracted to pay attention to you face?” she smirked and leaned closer to him.

“Any version of your face you’ll let me see. Although I would prefer to see it with fewer cuts,” he frowned at the cut on her cheek as he rubbed a soothing line just below the bruise that had formed around the cut. He leaned closer to examine the cut until his lips were centimeters from her cheek. He flicked his eyes to her half lidded ones and leaned to close the distance.

“Hey, guys!” Dick boomed as he came into the room. Marinette and Roy jumped apart, or rather Roy jumped away and Marinette straightened up on the stool, grabbing the workbench to keep from falling off. “Sorry I’m late. And sorry I’m here instead of Jason. He got… caught up in the attack. Not personally!” he rushed to assure Marinette when her eyes widened and body stiffened. “I meant he’s dealing with the fallout. Jason is fine. He’d just be really, really late and asked if I could come over here instead. If that’s okay.”

Marinette nodded, but her eyes were still slightly widened. “Of course. But you’re sure Jason’s okay?”

“Absolutely,” Dick shot her a charming smile. “He’s just going to need a bit of time to deal with things,” he lied smoothly. He looked between Marinette and Roy with narrowed eyes and moved between them as he hugged Marinette. “He really, really wanted to be here with you today. I think he’s planning on attaching himself to you tomorrow though.”

Marinette chuckled lightly. “That’s okay. We’ll have fun doing something.” Her face suddenly sobered. “Oh, no, wait. I have lunch with Duke and Cass tomorrow. I mean… I think I have lunch with them. We had planned it, but that was before…” she trailed off, not wanting to go into detail at all, but especially in front of Roy.

“I’m sure you still do,” Dick assured her. “They’re probably just waiting to get confirmation from you in case the last few days were a bit much and you wanted a break.”

“No!” Marinette exclaimed. “No. I’ll text them. Thanks.”

“But I get you for tonight. How do you feel about a movie marathon?” he grinned widely, already planning a full night’s marathon with her, Adrien, and Max. She had to love Disney movies, right? Who didn’t love Disney movies?

“I like movies,” Roy chirped with a teasing grin.

“No,” he answered sharply. He turned back to Marinette with a mock sympathetic smile. “You must have been so bored here.”

Roy narrowed his eyes back at him but Marinette jumped up to defend Roy. “Not at all. It was interesting watching him working on the bike. I got some good inspiration too.”

Roy raised a pointed eyebrow at him with a smug grin. “Motorcycles remind her of her grandmother.”

Dick looked back at Marinette who was looking back at Roy with a surprised expression. “Good memory.”

“I remember important things,” he shrugged.

Dick glared at him. “Uh huh. But not to check if things are loaded.” He looked back at Marinette. “You’ve got something just there,” he motioned to the cheek Roy had stroked earlier. “You might want to get that grease off.”

“Oh!” Marinette exclaimed grabbing her cheek, almost succeeding in covering the blush that flushed on her cheeks. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

Roy nodded and motioned toward the bathroom. “Just right over there.”

As soon as the door closed, Dick punched Roy’s shoulder. Roy frowned at him. “What?”

“What the Hell are you doing?” Dick hissed and motioned toward the bathroom.

“What?” Roy answered rubbing his shoulder. At least it was just Dick. If it was Jason, he’d be rubbing his jaw right now. “Tim dropped her off here. What was I supposed to do? Ignore her?”

“You were supposed to not hit on her,” he grumbled.

“That’s just unreasonable,” Roy rolled his eyes and leaned back against the workbench. He motioned to the bathroom. “Have you met her? She’s smart and sassy and really sweet. She's funny and obviously gorgeous. Who doesn’t want to hit on her?”

“Yeah. I’ve met her. Didn’t hit on her.” Dick let out a long suffering sigh. “Jesus, Roy! I’ve had her as a sister for like a week. I don’t want to lose her because I’m in jail for killing you.”

“You’re her brother, you don’t count in the hitting on her count. And please,” Roy scoffed, “you’re too good to go to jail for it.”

“True. Just…” he narrowed his eyes at him and pointed at him threateningly, “if you mess around and hurt her… I’ll choose her over you. And I won’t forget to load the magazines and Jason will be more than happy to use them.”

“That’s hurtful,” Roy groused. “One time. I forgot to load the magazines one time.”

“Yeah, in the middle of a mission!” Dick whisper hissed.

“You survived,” Roy shrugged. “Stop being such a baby. But I get it. I’d choose her over me too. Or you. But if you were going to kill anyone for hurting her, Riddler wouldn’t still be alive… or Bruce.”

Dick pursed his lips at the reminder of how Bruce had treated Marinette, of everything that had come up the night before. His anger quickly deflating. He looked toward the bathroom, his eyes softening. They really needed to work harder to support her, to assure her they weren’t holding her at arm’s length. Maybe talk to Bruce about telling her the truth. That seemed like the only possible way to salvage this. “How does she seem to be doing?”

Roy shrugged and watched the bathroom door to make sure she wouldn’t walk in on the conversation. “Actually doesn’t seem too bothered by the Riddler incident. She’s more anxious about the family knowing.” He pursed his lips and picked up a transmission piece, pretending to examine it. “Bruce hasn’t said anything or made any attempts as far as she knows.”

Dick sighed and massaged his temples. “That should surprise me more than it does.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Last night… dinner didn’t… some things came out that Bruce didn’t know. Things she had to go through. He’s beating himself up over it. Too ashamed to talk to her.”

Roy sighed and shook his head. Bruce was going to lose her before he even had her at this point. “That have anything to do with why she’s so unaffected by having been taken captive by one of the most dangerous rogues in Gotham?” Dick’s resigned sigh was enough confirmation for him. “Fuck,” he grumbled. “She thinks it’s her fault he doesn’t want to bother with her anymore.”

“Damn it,” Dick grumbled, drawing out the words in frustration. He ran his hand over his face and collapsed on the stool she had been on earlier. “Good to know. Thanks.”

Roy nodded and threw the part back on the workbench. “How’s Jay doing?”

“He’ll be okay. Tim got there in time to stop him from going too far, but he’s going to need a few hours, maybe the night to let the Pit Madness recede. And I think he’s really nervous about showing any part of that to Marinette.”

They both snapped their attention to Marinette when she came back. “My cheek look better?” she turned her cheek for them to see. “I mean obviously not the cut.”

“Yeah, you look beautiful.” Roy assured her and handed her purse to her.

Dick glared at Roy. “Could you stop hitting on my sister for five seconds?” he hissed low enough for Marinette not to hear. He turned to Marinette before Roy could respond. “Ready to go? I don’t know about you but I’m hungry.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Dick walked ahead of her, pretending like he didn’t notice her lag behind. When he was almost out the door, she turned to Roy and gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for babysitting me today and for the tour the other day. I’ve had a lot of fun.”

Roy nodded and handed her his phone with a spot for Fire Flower already started in his contacts. “If your plans ever get canceled again or you need to hide out or you need to borrow a jacket so you fit in, give me a call, Fire Flower.”

Marinette put her number in and passed it back to him with a grin. “You have extra you can just loan out?”

Roy grinned back and nodded. “A few jackets, suit coats, shirts, ties, clean pants, even a few pairs of coveralls, none of which would fit you, but if you ever need them… Or even if you don’t need anything, just want to talk or hang out, let me know.”

“Marinette! I thought you were ready to go?” Dick yelled.

Marinette shook her head and sighed. She waved to Roy as she rushed out. “Thanks again!”

Roy watched her leave until he couldn’t see her anymore. He let out a deep sigh and collapsed against the workbench. He looked at his phone and quickly sent a text with a smile.

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8 @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #prompt - no miraculous au #this is the last chapter I have written already so updates are going to be more sporadic from here on out #mbdbwm2021

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lovetorn · 4 years

Text

in chains for you [dream]

Dream x Fem!Reader Criminals!AU

Summary: The Dream Team is an underground crime group that works for Techno Industries. But what happens when one of their most valuable members is taken for ransom by their enemy, Schlatt?

Warnings: Swearing & mean insults :(, kidnapping, death, violence, uhhh nothing else? message me if you see anything else!

Word Count: 8.1k+

A/N: I’m so sorry for any mistakes/plot holes, my adhd said no❤️ when i was editing :(

Note: Please remember these are all characters! Since I do not know any of these people in real life, I have created all aspects of their lives, personalities etc. and apologise for any OOC moments. I portrayed Schlatt as the villain purely from his role play in the Dream SMP, obviously, I do not believe him to be like this irl in any way. He is also written as much older than the Dream Team to enhance the villain-like characteristics. Remember, this is just fiction! Thanks!

Night had fallen over California, and the icy breeze from the South blew through the city of Beverly Hills. The lights from several luxury hotels and displays lit up the streets and exposed the city. It was more alive than half the people that resided there. Here, people only cared about their money and their assets; barely any room left for emotions towards others that didn’t benefit them.

“Hurry the fuck up, Sapnap!”

The gravelly sound of Dream shouting prompted Y/n to run faster. Tensions were high as three criminals rushed to the dark SUV that sat running outside of the tall building. They clutched black duffle bags in both hands when the sound of familiar sirens cried a few blocks away.

Unlocking the car, George threw open the back car door and launched his duffle bags onto the car seats before hopping in. Dream rounded the car and opened the door to the driver’s seat, Y/n doing the same for the passenger’s side. And whilst they were shoving the bags in, Sapnap came running out of the building, another duffle bag in his hand and a briefcase in the other. The ends of his white bandana flew around in the wind behind him as he missed a dip in the floor.

“What the fuck has he got now? We’ve gotta go!” George exclaimed, hurrying the boy by waving his hand. Dream put the car in drive as Sapnap slammed the door, “Go, go, go!”

The car squealed while Dream pulled off of the curb, the wheels screeching against the tar as he pressed his foot heavily on the accelerator. 40, 50, 70, 100, 130mph. The speedometer jumped by 10s and then by 40s as the car barrelled down the long strip of road, the wailings of sirens fading behind them.

George, Y/n and Sapnap were laughing as they took their masks off. The sound pissed Dream off as he gripped the steering wheel harder; why is nobody taking this seriously?

Ripping his white mask off his face and throwing it into his lap, Dream looked at Sapnap through the rearview mirror, “Why did you take so long? That could’ve fucked our whole plan!”

“Jeez, chill out.”

Dream shot him a glare through the mirror as Sapnap put his hand up, “Schlatt said he had a briefcase full of Chick-Fil-A gift cards, so I grabbed the first one I saw.”

George lolled his head to the side, mouth agape as he stared at him in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?”

Sapnap shook his head, resting the case on his thighs and popping open the clasps.

“Fuck yeah!” He cheered, turning the case around to show the rest of the car the bundles of hundreds of red and white cards that laid on a sheet of red velvet. Sapnap’s eyes remained as wide as saucers the entire time he tilted the case at different angles to ensure everybody saw.

Y/n turned around in her seat to face the boys in the back and giggled.

“Can I have one?” She asked, holding her hands up in a praying gesture. Sapnap laughed and nodded, “I’ve got enough for a whole country! And anything for you, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at him, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back around to face the road that was gone as quick as it came.

The deep sigh that came from Dream in the driver’s seat caught the attention of everybody in the car. Sapnap rolled his eyes and shut the case. “Calm down, green boy. She’s all yours.”

Arriving at the motel George had found, the four lugged the black duffle bags in the small room. Locking the room door, Dream spun around to see everybody sitting on one of the single beds.

He eyed the black duffle bags in the corner with a frown, each one full to the brim with thousands of 100 dollar bills that they had to transfer back to base. George cleared his throat when he saw his friend looking at the bags and raised his eyebrows, “Dream?” The man turned at the sound of his name and nodded once. He had an odd feeling in his stomach but decided to ignore it and face the problem at hand first before anything else.

Dream sighed, “We did good tonight,” The three on the bed hollering softly, fist-bumping each other before Dream continued.

“But...” Y/n, George and Sapnap all groaned, throwing their heads back at the oncoming disappointment that Dream was going to throw on them.

“Sapnap, what the fuck was that? You can’t go off on your own tangents during a plan this big! What would’ve happened if—”

Sapnap’s eyes widened when he realised Dream’s rage was aimed towards him. “Dream! It’s okay, bro. I’m right here, we’re all alive—”

“Don’t talk back to me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/n avoided Dream’s gaze when it landed on her. She didn’t want him asking her to back him up; not tonight.

“Anyway, I hope you all know what comes next.” The three nodded, heads down and eyes trained on the worn carpet. Sapnap and George stood up and went to different sides of the room, George to the bathroom and Sapnap to the desk where he pulled out his iPod and earphones.

Dream watched as Y/n lifted her head back up, meeting his gaze. She gave him a soft smile and patted the space on the bed next to her. Dream ran a hand through his tangled blonde hair and walked over to her, sitting where her hand once was.

“You okay?” She asked softly, placing her hand over his that sat in his lap. Dream nodded before huffing. “I just don’t know how successful this plan actually is. Something’s off.” He whispered, grabbing her hand. Y/n leaned forward to try and meet his green eyes; the ones that made her weak at the knees when he looked at her a certain way. But he didn’t need to know that considering they were just friends.

“We did good today, look! We’re here, alive and well. And if something’s bothering you, just know that I’ll always be here to help you. Now, I need the bathroom.” She smiled, squeezing his hand before standing up.

“George? When are you done?” She yelled at the bathroom door. Dream tilted his head to the side as he admired her, what would he do without her?

“Soon! Stop being annoying!”

It had reached a point in the night where Dream couldn’t sleep. The single bed he laid in was uncomfortable, and the nagging feeling of doubt kept him awake. Something was wrong.

He looked over a Y/n who laid in the other bed across from him. His top priority was to keep her safe; he had to. His eyes then travelled to his two other best friends—Sapnap in the desk chair and George on the brown couch.

He smiled softly. Dream rarely got emotional, but seeing his friends and partners in crime—literally—so vulnerable, had his mind plagued with vicious scenarios that brought tears to his alarmingly vacant eyes.

They weren’t always void, but seeing death as he did, had pushed the soul of nature out of his once striking eyes. He thought they looked dull now, matching the rest of his face, but Y/n always told him they were the prettiest she’d ever seen. He’d always flush when she said that which always elicited a poke in the ribs and a teasing comment from her.

Dream forgot how long he’d been lying there, his mind drifting in and out of sleeping until a high-pitched squeak came from the main door. He reached for his knife that held a place under the pillow and sat up, holding his knife and facing the door.

On the floor next to the door, sat an ominous black envelope. Dream chewed the inside of his lip, his heart beating rapidly with panic. How did they find them?

—

“How the fuck did they find us?” George asked, his palms sweaty as he held the letter in his hands. The gold foiling around the letters was both alluring and terrifying.

Palm Casino. Wednesday Night. 12am. Be there, or face death.

Dream had rolled his eyes when he read the letter for the first time; Schlatt was so dramatic. And although fear and doubt had set in his stomach, he didn’t let his friends know.

How did they find them? They had been careful with the robbery, getting everything they needed without leaving a trace, nothing out of place, except for—

Dream shoved his partners out of the way and leaned down to pick up the briefcase with the Chic-Fil-A gift cards. Sapnap went to interject, primarily to save his prized possession when Y/n grabbed his elbow and shook her head when he turned to her.

Dream opened it then turned it upside down, emptying the cards onto the rotting carpet.

“Dream—”

“Shut up.” He then continued to rip the velvet from the inside of the case to reveal a small box with a red flashing light. Sapnap stopped his wriggling and stood staring at the device.

“This is your fault, you dipshit.”

Sapnap was silent. Y/n softened her grip to rub his elbow comfortingly instead, the action making Dream narrow his gaze. The girl rolled her eyes and spoke up, “How was he supposed to know it was in there, Dream? You can’t blame him for this at all.”

Dream shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor before huffing and scrunching his nose in a disgusted manner.

Midnight had arrived quickly, like a thief in the dark, and the crescent moon hung high in the sky. A light breeze swept into the city, making the palm trees sway in the delicate moonlight as a black SUV pulled up to the Palm Casino.

“Okay, here we go. I want you all on your best behaviour,” Dream joked. And as his mask only hid half of his face, a lopsided grin graced his face as he popped the door open. Y/n knew that smile; it was one that was begging for chaos, but she knew it was just a deflection from his real emotions.

Walking to the entrance, Y/n reached up and placed her hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dream let out a laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

The boys sported black on black suits with matching Rolex watches, the gold of the timepieces shining in the low light. The only differences between them being Dream’s smiley mask, Sapnap’s white bandana in his hair, and George’s white glasses upon the top of his head. Y/n, on the other hand, wore a fitting dress with gold jewellery. She would’ve worn anything else, but considering the situation, she complied.

As the waitress walked them over to the poker table, Y/n caught Dream’s hand in her own, squeezing it once before letting go. She knew he was worried and the action in itself was enough to calm Dream’s nerves for the time being, but as soon as he made eye contact with Schlatt, it all went away.

“Boys! How are we doing?” The man yelled, throwing his arms up with a smile on his face. Dream nodded once and sat down at the table, Sapnap and George following. Y/n went to sit beside Sapnap but was cut off by Schlatt who took it upon himself to police the members at said table.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’m afraid this game is only for the men.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and clasped his hands on the table. Y/n narrowed her gaze at him before rolling her eyes and moving to stand behind Dream.

Schlatt then stood and excused himself from the table, making George throw Dream a confused look before the man spoke up. He walked towards another room, guarded by velvet ropes, but not before shouting, “Let the games begin!”

—

Dream sat observing the last man in the game next to himself, ensuring he wouldn’t lose, not that he ever did. He had learnt from his father early on to read the expressions of the players around him and how to benefit from the folds and raises. People were shocked when they found out his age, bewildered that such a young man could earn numbers like that.

Dream stared narrowly at the man; his eyebrows raised as he wore a sly smirk. The man in front of him was profusely sweating, his hand reaching to grasp a tissue from his pocket as the last community card was placed down. The surrounding men groaned; their expressions irritable as the Dream Team gained another win. Dream threw the cards onto the Poker table and stood up, offering his hand to the gentleman. He reluctantly accepted then hurried out of the room, four of his acquaintances following.

Y/n watched as Dream swapped seats with Sapnap, allowing him his turn at the game. She then moved and leaned down to Dream’s ear, “This is bullshit, where’s Schlatt gone?”

Dream shook his head and shrugged quickly, “Fuck knows.”

“Let’s go, Sapnap,” A man they recognised as Fletcher spoke, sitting down in front of the young man as his buddies filed around the table to take their seats. Sapnap didn’t talk, he only glanced back at Dream who tilted his head, holding his forefinger up to indicate this would be their last round.

Once Sapnap had collected his two starting cards, the game began. Dream watched as each of the men were eliminated through folds and how they apologised to Fletcher for letting him down. The man brushed them off, telling them to “watch how it’s done”. Dream, Sapnap and George stifled a laugh as they watched the second last man fold. Behind them, Y/n grew impatient and began mumbling to herself about how ridiculous it was.

“Excuse me? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a round? Get the fuck outta here.” Fletcher said, his voice harsh as Y/n’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. Dream went to interject before the man spoke again.

“A scotch on the rocks.” He then said.

“I’m not a waitress.” Y/n’s voice was monotone while the man waved her away. Y/n scoffed before she moved towards him. Dream’s hand flew out to catch her wrist, and Y/n rolled her eyes. As angry as Dream was, he wasn’t going to start something with Schlatt’s men before the meeting actually started. Sapnap didn’t pay any attention to the conversations around him, focusing only on winning.

Fletcher chuckled, holding his cards close to his chest, “you dumb kid”. Sapnap’s facial expression went from serious to amused, watching as the dealer placed down the final community card. Sapnap’s eyes flickered to Fletcher’s grey ones as he slammed his cards down on the table. Sapnap then reached to gather his winnings in chips, earning pats on the back from George and a gentle laugh and fist-bump from Dream.

Fletcher sat in disbelief; he was sure he would win this one. Sapnap stood up and embraced George in a hug before moving to Dream as Fletcher circled around the table.

“You cheating bastard!” Sapnap held his hands up in defence, clueless as to why this man was coming at him.

“No cheating here, Fletch, just plain luck,” He grinned, clearly not fearful of him.

“Dude just take the loss and move on, it’s not that deep,” Y/n said, catching the attention of Fletcher again.

“Not now, you whore. The men are talking,” Fletcher glowered, looking intimidatingly down at the girl.

Y/n, however, wasn’t fazed by his words, “Look, it’s not his fault that you lost. I guess you just suck at Poker.” Fletcher’s face went bright red, and Y/n swore she saw steam coming out of his ears. Her eyes widened as she took a step back slowly. George pushed her behind him despite her protests of being able to handle herself.

“Come on Fletch, there’s no need to go after an innocent woman,” Dream asserted, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He soon realised that his actions were a mistake as Fletcher spun around and threw his fist towards Dream’s nose. Dream’s mask had cracked slightly on impact, his green eyes widening in panic as he stumbled back slightly.

Sapnap scanned the other men around them and calculated their next moves before he ducked a punch from a redhead. George’s hands gripped under Dream’s armpits as he pulled him up, dodging fists from the older men. Dream’s eyes were watering from the unexpected hit to the nose, and he could barely see.

But what he did see was Y/n raising the metal drinks tray she found on the poker table next to them and slamming it down on the back of Fletcher’s bald head. Her eyes were wide as she stood behind his figure that was now on the floor, groaning. Her eyes met his and Dream felt his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t acknowledge it at the present time because there were five other guys to deal with.

Dream regained his posture and cocked his head to the right, stretching his neck before standing off to the others. The men stood with their fists raised in front of their faces and their feet apart, ready to engage. George, Sapnap and Dream were just as confused as Y/n was, who was making sure Fletcher stayed down.

“I really fucking hate you guys. Let’s get a move on with the meeting, shall we?” Y/n said lazily, she just wanted to get home.

—

Dream sat in a large black chair, the lower half of his face covered in blood, the top half covered by his stained, cracked mask. Y/n had her legs crossed, with a stern expression, glaring at Schlatt as he rounded the table to sit at his obnoxiously large desk.

Schlatt had demanded it only be Dream and Y/n in the office with him, making George and Sapnap wait outside. The two boys had angrily complained about it, but Dream assured them it would be fine, leaving them to sulk next to the heavy wooden door that led to Schlatt’s office.

“You two make a good pair, eh?” Schlatt smirked, bringing his hands to interlock in front of him on the desk. Dream glanced at Y/n, who gave him a bored look.

He then turned back to the front, “Why are we here, Schlatt?”

“Oh, not very friendly,” He laughed, earning no responses from anyone in the room except for his assistant, Quackity, who stood in the corner. “That’s Quackity by the way.”

Dream shrugged, uninterested with the introduction of his assistant and remained still until Schlatt continued.

“Now, tell me where the money is, Dream.” There it was—the literal million-dollar question.

The masked blonde didn’t react. Y/n cast her eyes towards him, seeing nothing but the white mask that covered his face. The smile on the front was a harsh contrast to the anger Dream felt. And when Schlatt huffed and wiggled his fingers at Quackity, then Dream perked up.

Suddenly, Y/n wrists were being grabbed by Quackity, who had crossed the room in seconds. Dream immediately stood, only to be pushed back by Schlatt who had moved in front of him.

Y/n opened her mouth object when Quackity whacked his free hand over her mouth. She let out a whimper at the smack, tears welling in her eyes in shock. Nonetheless, she continued to struggle against his harsh grip on her wrists. Y/n’s breathing became heavier, her thoughts clouded with fear of the unknown; what would Schlatt want with her?

Quackity dragged the girl from the large chair towards the other side of the room, where another door lay, but he didn’t take her in yet. Dream’s gaze was locked on Y/n, everything else slipping away as he watched her thrash against her captor.

“Let’s call it leverage?” Schlatt’s haunting voice echoed through the room, and he had an evil gleam in his eye. “You tell me where you hid the money, and I’ll let her go.”

Dream’s head was on a swivel when he turned back to face Schlatt. Panic blossomed in his stomach; if he gave up the money, they’d all be dead. And as hard of a decision as it was, Dream knew what to do—he had his full faith in Y/n. He remembered what she had told him when they first started working together and drew in a breath. He nodded at Y/n once, receiving a pleading look in reply, and sighed.

“Give ‘em hell, baby.”

—

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Sapnap spat as the three men got back into the SUV outside of the casino. George shook his head in the backseat, scoffing as Dream ignored their questions.

Meanwhile, Dream drove in complete fury. He knew what he did was wrong and stupid, but Y/n once demanded he let her go if she was ever held for ransom. It was an odd request at the time. And this was an irrational move that could get her killed, but he had no choice—it was her or the whole operation, and Dream was loyal.

“Hello? You fuckin’—”

“Sapnap.”

The youngest froze at Dream’s tone and sunk into his seat, choosing to look out of the window than at him. He flexed his hand against the steering wheel, refusing to meet their gazes.

“Y/n asked me before any of this started, that if she were to ever be held hostage, for ransom, whatever, to trust her and let them take her. I don’t know why I never asked her why, but we have to trust her, and you have to trust me for making this decision.”

“Call Techno and tell him that Schlatt’s taken one of us for ransom.” Dream said to no one in particular. Sapnap scrambled to get his phone from his pocket and dial their boss’ number, but not before turning and facing Dream from the passenger’s seat.

“I—we trust you, Dream. And we’ll be with you till the end, okay?” Sapnap mumbled, gesturing to George in the backseat.

“She’ll be fine.” Dream had a hard time believing George, “We know Y/n, she’s a strong girl—a whole lot stronger than us—she’ll get through it.”

The piercing sound of metal against metal made Y/n cringe, distracting her from the burning of the new rope bound around her wrists. Quackity’s heavy breathing almost made her laugh, they hadn’t even walked for that long.

He didn’t say anything to Y/n when he guided her inside a cell. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked around the dirty space, scrunching her nose in disgust as she noticed the damp walls and the stray cockroach that scurried across the floor.

“I’m sorry about the state of this, we don’t have visitors often,” Quackity said, exhaling a scoff he let go of her arms. Y/n’s face dropped when she felt the rope loosen and fall off her wrists. She remained still as Quackity rummaged around behind her.

The screech of the cell door closing startled Y/n—she thought she’d have more time to fight back. She heard Quackity shuffle away from the cell, and shortly after, the sound of dress shoes tapping on the concrete floor caught her attention.

Y/n slowly turned around when someone cleared their throat behind her. She rolled her eyes as she came face to face with Schlatt. He stood with his hands behind his back in his usual arrogant suit and his deep red tie.

“Do you know why my tie is this red?” He asked, his head tilted to the side with a patronising smirk. It was an odd question, but Y/n could already guess the answer, she just didn’t want to hear it when she was this vulnerable.

Schlatt leaned down and closer to the cell, his face fitting perfectly between the bars as his eyes glared into Y/n’s.

“It’s so you can’t see the bloodstains.” He winked before sanding to his full height, his mood shifting entirely, “Anyways, I’m gonna keep this short. Get comfortable, Princess, you’ll be here awhile knowing Dream and his goons.”

With a clap of his hands and a small chuckle, Schlatt left, his shoes clacking down the hallway and into the elevator at the end of the hallway. The machine dinged and then it was gone, leaving Y/n in a deafening silence.

She sank to her knees, crestfallen, onto the concrete beneath her, still in her tight dress. As strong-minded as Y/n was, she couldn’t bring herself to give a witty remark. She was absolutely defeated. She knew Dream would get her out, eventually, but at what cost? Would Dream let everything the Dream Team has worked for in the past 3 years go to waste? For her?

She didn’t let herself cry as she picked herself up, and hesitantly sat on the cot in the corner of the cell. Her dress was uncomfortable, and the feeling of satin against her skin irritated her immensely.

Y/n had no idea how far underground she was; she sat in complete darkness and utter silence, nothing but the ringing of her ears and her screaming thoughts to keep her company.

—

Dream paced the small space, tearing at his hair roots with his fists, his face red with panic and anger. He was so in his head; he couldn’t hear his two friends calling his name from 3 feet away. The thought of Y/n alone with Schlatt made him so infuriated he could punch a hole through the brick wall next to him. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and the stinging of his nails digging into his palms was numbing.

Sapnap threw George a concerned glance, his brown eyes pleading George to do something to stop Dream from falling further into an endless loop of guilt and despair.

“Dream!” The sound of George calling him in that tone caused him to pause his pacing. He turned to look at his English friend with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You need to stop! Y/n wouldn’t want you having an existential crisis over her, she’d want you to hurry up and figure out a plan to get her back.”

Dream stood frozen for a moment; what would Y/n want? It was like a switch flipped inside Dream when he stood up straight, sending him into autopilot. All emotion wiped was from his face, leaving his eyes vacant and face blank. And as much as George hated to admit it, this cold version of his best friend knew what to do and how to do it efficiently. The sudden change shocked Sapnap slightly, leaving him frightened as he grabbed onto George’s sleeve.

“Ok boys, let’s get to work.”

Emotion is a weakness, and they sure did not need that right now.

Y/n had been suffering in the same tight dress and uncomfortable heels for a week; Schlatt’s lack of humanity and human decency (as well as kidnapping her in the first place), had put him in Y/n’s bad books.

The only human interaction she had was Quackity bringing her meals twice a day and the small conversations they would have as she ate. He didn’t talk about his work much, only hinting at his eventual betrayal and escape from Schlatt. Although, he continually spoke of his family to her, telling Y/n that he was there against his will and was threatened with death if he left. She felt sympathy for the boy, he was so young.

When Alex, as she now calls him, left her, Y/n was back with her mind. She had remained seemingly sane despite being in solitary confinement but was going insane without Dream. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his emerald ones gleaming at her through the darkness, their vibrance giving her shivers.

She missed his touch: his cold hands in her’s, their knees brushing slightly when sitting on the motel bed, his hand on her thigh in the car, despite complaints from the boys. She cared deeply for him, and she knew he did too, but they were both too scared of rejection to get together. Sapnap always teased them for being ‘pussies’, and George would roll his eyes whenever they would flush at their closeness—god, she missed them too.

Biting her lip, Y/n tried her best to prevent tears from falling down her cheeks. But she hadn’t let them fall since being held ransom, fearing she would be seen as weak by Schlatt, and even Alex. The burning at the back of her throat was fiery as she let them out. She struggled to breathe, clawing at her throat when she felt her lungs tighten. Y/n tried to sit upright to calm herself down, but her pained cries filled the cold, concrete basement and rattled the cell bars. She sobbed for hours, only falling asleep when the last ones dried.

—

As Dream put the car in park, he turned to face George in the passenger’s seat.

“You ready?” He asked. George exhaled and nodded, “Let’s get her back.”

Dream smirked. His attitude had flipped entirely from last week, leaving him cocky and ready to fight the world. However, George saw through his best friend’s act. He heard Dream’s choked and ragged cries in the bathroom at 4 am, and noticed his red, puffy eyes at 7 am when they woke up. He saw the way his hands shook every time he drove, and he caught onto Dream’s routine of not eating until Sapnap would force him away from the table with the plans spread across it.

George was concerned for his best friend, and Dream was oblivious. But despite everything, George knew he was determined to get Y/n back, above all else. Her life came before his own, and that scared George to his core, how far would Dream go to save Y/n?

“Ok, Geor—” The piercing screams of fire alarms made Dream jump as they echoed down the street. The two boys shared a surprised look before they hopped out of the SUV. They jogged down the road towards the Palm Casino with black duffle bags on their shoulders.

Flames rose as high as the sky and embers rained on Dream and George as they ran through the smoke to the entrance. Employees darted out of the main doors, crashing into the boys as they continued to the central control room of the casino. George heaved the heavy door open before closing it firmly behind them. They dropped the bags and began drinking in the clean air as they set their eyes on Sapnap who sat behind a desk with his feet up on the table.

“Well, boys, how did I do?” He said, arms out as he cocked his eyebrow up. George laughed in disbelief, “I can’t believe that worked.”

Sapnap shook his head quickly, “You had no faith in me, did you?” He threw his hand on his chest and stood up from his spot.

“Sap, you did great!” Dream exclaimed, walking over to slap the boy on the back. Sapnap’s pained expression turned into a smile as he watched George do the same.

“Ok then, where’s the security office?”

—

“I can’t fit my fat ass through there, Sapnap.” Dream’s jaw dropped as he measured the gap with his hands, “There’s just no way!”

George rolled his eyes and pushed Dream towards the duct, “Just go! Do you want Y/n back or not?” Dream’s face scrunched up, much like a child when having a tantrum, and whined.

“Why don’t you just go? I simply just cannot fit! Here, you wanna see?” George and Sapnap nodded, amused looks on their faces as they watched him dive headfirst into the air duct.

His body slipped in in such an elegant way that it made them burst out laughing. Dream, who couldn’t see his friends, exhaled deeply before he began crawling along. His movements heightened their laughter, seeing him wiggle through, but it only made Dream more determined to pursue the journey.

“Oh yeah, you have such a fat ass, Dream! Throw it back for me, baddie!” Sapnap yelled after him, his giggles interrupting the sentence a few times.

George and Sapnap’s antics were long gone, and all Dream could hear was the squeaking of an elevator and the creaking of the metal beneath him. He had memorised the layout of the ducts in his head and decided that this was the spot to drop down into.

The first basement looked usual, with a boiler in the corner and some filing cabinets lining the walls. Dream dropped from the ceiling with no sound, moving silently towards the elevator in the opposing corner of the large room. The sound of shoes slapping the hard ground paused Dream’s movements before he moved quickly behind a cabinet.

“—He said not to go down there, Tubbo. What do you think he’s hiding?”

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, were those kids? He adjusted his mark slightly before he peeked around the corner of the filing cabinet. Sure enough, Dream saw two teenage boys, one significantly taller than the other. But nonetheless, they were definitely very young. Why did Schlatt hire two British kids to guard his secret underground prison? Dream shook his head, glancing down at the floor as he crept out of his hiding spot.

“Oi!” He heard. Dream looked up, seeing the taller boy stalk towards him. The blonde boy stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he looked back at the other boy.

“Tubbo, do you know who this is?” The blonde asked in disbelief. The shorter one nodded, his expression lifting at the sight of Dream. Their jaws dropped as Dream exhaled deeply.

“Dream? As in the Dream Team? As in Techno Industries?” Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask. He didn’t respond as the two boys inched closer to him.

“Listen, I’ll give you a few bucks if you don’t mention this to Schlatt, got it?” Dream growled, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills. The boys’ eyes shone, the shorter one reaching forward to accept the bribe before the blonde pushed him back.

“That’s all? I was expecting at least a grand each from THE Dream.” He smirked. Dream remained expressionless and went to decline before the blonde continued. “It’s a grand each or I tell Schlatt you were snooping around his casino.”

Dream shook his head and pulled another $600 from his pocket and shoved it into their hands, “Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll do it myself.”

The taller one went to reply, but the other one pulled on his sleeve and shook his head. He rolled his eyes and mumbled a string of curse words before turning and stomping away. The other boy muttered a quick ‘thank you’ with a small smile on his face and hurried off in the direction of the staircase that went up to the casino’s main floor. Dream guessed that the fire had been taken care of by the way they fled carelessly up the stairs.

Dream sighed and trod over to the elevator. He pressed the arrow to go down and groaned when the scanner next to it blinked red.

He scrunched up his face when he glanced back towards the air duct. The only other option was to try and get down the air duct and into the rafters in the basement below.

Dream had the urge to throw a temper tantrum at Sapnap’s shitty planning. He pulled himself back up into the duct and crawled towards the wall where the elevator was. Reaching a sharp drop, Dream looked over the edge, his eyes widening at the height. He grunted as he positioned himself above the fall; all he had to do was slide down.

He could hardly see the bottom, but he knew if he slid down as planned, he would go straight through. So, instead, Dream slowly moved his arms and legs into the small space and gradually let himself down, inching closer to the bottom with every move.

Sweat dripped down his temple, and his muscles ached as he went, his palms becoming slippery against the smooth and thin metal. He held his breath as he reached the bottom, scared any sound he made would attract unwanted attention from whoever could be in the vicinity.

He let out a quiet, steady breath, and he returned to his hands and knees in the horizontal air duct. His original plan was irrelevant, so he didn’t know the map of the air ducts in the second basement, leaving him guessing.

Once he thought the spot was right, he harshly pushed on a panel of the duct below him, hearing it clatter on the concrete as it hit the ground. He cringed at the sound and slowly lowered himself onto the beams that were directly below him. How convenient.

The sharp sound of the panel dropping had caught the attention of several guards. On this level, there were actual security guards with weapons and not lippy teenagers. Dream made eye contact with one of them, scolding himself when the man scrambled for his walkie talkie as he spotted Dream on the beams above.

Dream rolled his eyes and dropped from the ceiling, crouching as he landed before standing up. He brought his pointer finger to his lips before bringing his fist to his neck and dragging his thumb across the skin. The action itself made the security guard’s eyes widen and freeze his movements. Dream’s sadistic smile and seemingly wild nature made the guard move backwards into the wall as he passed.

He went around another corner and was met with an entirely different area he wasn’t expecting. But, Dream was sure he was going to succeed in finding Y/n and escaping as soon as possible. And of course, the echo of a sinister whistle made him freeze. Fuck.

“Dream! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” As Schlatt rounded the corner, a smirk spread across his smug face, Dream squeezed his eyes shut.

“A little friend of mine told me you were here! Just thought I’d come and say hi,” He chuckled as Dream cracked his knuckles. Damn kids.

“Schlatt, where’s Y/n?” Dream demanded, cracking his neck when he jerked his head to the side.

“Now, that’s not a nice way to greet a friend, is it, Dream?”

Dream’s eyes widened behind his mask. He stood stunned, no words coming from his mouth.

“Dream, she’s not yours. She never has been. So why do you think you have to save her?” Dream’s expression remained the same as Schlatt continued, “You’re too pussy to even ask her out, let alone be her boyfriend.” It was a ridiculous argument, Schlatt knew that, but he was positive he was going to get a rise out of Dream this way.

He sneered at Dream’s silence, the deep rumble of his cackle rattling Dream’s bones. Suddenly, a scream added to the ominous atmosphere that Schlatt had created, and Dream jumped into action, launching himself at the older man.

“Where is she?” His voice became raspy as he threw a punch at Schlatt’s temple. Schlatt growled at the attempt and hurled his arm back at Dream. He dodged it, barely, but stepped back and rushed towards the cell Y/n was in.

“Y/n?” He shouted, ducking and searching for the girl through the bars of the numerous cells that lined the basement.

“Here.”

The sound of her broken voice snapped Dream into action. Sprinting down the hallway, he was met with Y/n’s grubby and exhausted body. His heart broke at the sight of her, and he gripped the bars, pulling and pushing them in an attempt to break them.

Dream was so caught up in getting Y/n out, he didn’t notice Schlatt coming from his left.

The impact of a fist colliding with his temple sent Dream stumbling to the right, his mask cracking slightly in the corner at the force. He grunted in pain before spinning to meet Schlatt again, who had his arm raised in its previous position. Dream tried to shake his head from his dazed state, the unexpected hit stunning his consciousness.

Schlatt aimed once again and swung his fist to hit Dream in the face. But, Dream saw it coming and swivelled to the left to dodge the incoming punch. Schlatt let out a guttural sound, growing frustrated with his miss. The hit to his temple left Dream seeing stars; however, he managed to duck and strike Schlatt in his stomach, earning a deep groan. The older man recovered quickly, picking himself back up to his full height as he mumbled, “bastard.”

Dream was losing shamefully, lazily avoiding punches and swaying lightly as Schlatt grinned at his anticipated win.

Whilst Dream stumbled slightly, Schlatt snickered, his fist coming across to hit him again. This time, the punch followed through and cracked his ceramic mask fully, the object dropping to the ground and shattering on impact. Schlatt barked out a laugh as he watched the pieces scatter.

“And here we have, the real Dream! You know, you’re not what I expected. Definitely uglier.” He cackled, doubling over in laughter as Dream watched. He blinked and was void of any emotion as Schlatt stood back up.

“What? Can’t take a joke?” Dream clenched his jaw, and he lunged forwards, his hands coming to grip onto Schlatt’s shoulders and bringing his knee up to jab him in his stomach. He groaned out in pain as he doubled over, yet again, but this time not in joy.

The back of Dream’s belt that held his handgun was screaming at him. So, reaching behind him, Dream revealed his firearm. The weapon had wiped Schlatt’s smug look off of his face, replacing it with one of fear. His expression mocked Dream, although he didn’t catch onto Schlatt’s taunting.

“Dream, listen, buddy—”

“Shut the fuck up, Schlatt.”

But, Dream’s face contorted to something of confusion and horror when Schlatt started chuckling. He pulled the side of his suit jacket to the side to reveal a similar Glock, making Dream freeze his once confident motions.

“You see, I’m always 3 steps ahead of you, Dream,” Schlatt tormented, pulling the gun from its secure place in his jacket.

“You’re fucked now.” Dream went to lunge at him again, but Schlatt stepped to the side and pushed him down.

Dream’s gun went sliding across the polished concrete and out of his reach. The blonde swore as he saw Schlatt stumbling towards his fallen body. He lifted himself off of the ground, panting heavily as he ducked another punch from the older man. Dream stepped back, balancing his weight on his right foot, and threw his fist out towards Schlatt’s cheek. The punch landed, and Schlatt staggered backwards slightly, blood dripping from his lips as he grinned.

“I see how it’s gonna be,” He lifted his arm and aimed the gun towards Y/n, who stood in the cell behind him. Dream leaned to the side to catch Y/n’s pained gaze.

“Please,” Dream’s strained voice was barely audible through Schlatt’s booming psychotic laughter. Clenching his fists, Dream glared at him, “Don’t do this, Schlatt.”

“Oh, Dream, I could do this all day!—” A flat crack bounced off the concrete room and was soon followed by a heavy thud. Dream swallowed in shock as he watched deep red blood spill across the floor, oozing out of the fresh wound. He was frozen in his spot as he watched the body twitch and then loll, unmoving.

“Dream?” Dream’s eyes flickered from Schlatt’s body to Y/n, who stood with his gun loosely in her hand.

“Y/n?” His voice was weak as he struggled to stand. The clatter of the gun dropping on the hard surface didn’t come close to silence the thoughts running through his head.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m okay, I’m here. Dream?” Y/n cried, wrapping her arms around Dream’s stiff body. His hand came up to feel the wetness on his cheeks, and he pulled it away, seeing red smeared on his fingers.

“He’s gone?” He whispered, earning a nod from Y/n, “It’s okay.”

“No, I know. It just shocked me, that’s all. I thought he killed you.”

Y/n sighed, tightening her grip on him, pressing her face into his shoulder, “I’m right here, see. I’m not hurt, I’m fine, with you.”

Dream turned his head towards her, an unsure expression on his face as he threw his arms around her.

“Fuck, I thought—”

“Dream. Deep breaths.” He nodded, following Y/n’s motions in breathing evenly.

“Jesus, usually you’re the one helping me calm down from something like this,” Y/n giggled, her hand coming to run her fingers through his hair, not minding the dampness of drying blood. A smile broke out on Dream’s face before he noticed Y/n’s eyes widen and her head fly to the side to search for something.

“What’s wrong?” Dream asked, seeing Y/n’s eyebrows crease, “Your mask.” She whispered, spotting the shattered ceramic feet away from where they sat.

Dream breathed out a laugh, bringing her face back towards his, “My mask is the least of my worries right now.”

“I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.”

“Of course, you will.”

“Y/n!” Sapnap yelled, running towards the girl as she pushed open the security office door. Y/n locked her arms around Sapnap’s shoulders as they embraced, the pair giggling in disbelief.

“How have you guys not been kicked out yet? The fire’s out.” Dream said, closing the door behind them. George shrugged, “Paid ‘em off.” Dream snorted in response.

When Y/n pulled away from Spanap, she hugged George, who was eagerly waiting behind them.

“Don’t do that ever again. You left me with two dumbasses for so long,” George mumbled. Y/n felt tears fill her eyes as she squeezed George tighter, “I missed you guys so much.”

And after a teary reunion, the group sat around the desk in the middle of the room.

“Where’s the big man himself?” Sapnap nervously laughed, dread ate at his conscience at the thought of Schlatt coming after them again.

“Schlatt’s dead.” The news had George raising his eyebrows and pushing his head forward, “Huh? Sorry? What?”

“He’s dead, Y/n killed him.” Dream stated, earning a small smile from Sapnap that Y/n laughed at. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. Sapnap’s reaction made me giggle.”

The group shared a collective rumble of laughter before Dream suggested they went back to the motel.

“Hey,” Dream whispered at Y/n when she passed him, gently grasping her elbow. “You guys go ahead, I just need to speak with Y/n,” He continued, waving the boys in the direction of the car. George and Sapnap shared a knowing look and tried their best to conceal their cheeky smiles.

“What’s up with them?” Y/n asked, throwing her thumb over her shoulder at the boys. Dream shook his head slightly, “No clue.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to ask how you are. You know, after everything.”

Y/n nodded, “I’m okay, I think. I don’t think anything’s really hit me yet.” Dream sighed in response.

Y/n sucked her lips between her teeth, throwing her arms around Dream’s neck in a hug. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Thank you,” She whispered in his ear, her voice cracking with emotion. Dream’s heart clenched at the sound and tightened his grip around her.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, you know that,” He murmured, hiding his reddening face in her neck. He flushed, even more, when he felt her lips against his neck, “I love you, so much, Dream.”

Dream’s heart skipped a beat before he pulled his head from her neck. His green eyes looked into hers, the closeness of them making Y/n inhale sharply.

“And I love you. Don’t forget that, okay?” He replied, his voice low. Y/n nodded shortly, inching her lips up to his.

“Kiss me.” She muttered, nudging his nose with hers. Dream laughed breathy before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers.

Their bodies had become flushed against one another, her hips against his as they shared a heated kiss. Dream pulled away first, his cheeks pink and his lips plump. Y/n whined silently, bouncing in her heels at the loss of his lips.

Dream smiled widely at her, “I guess I want you more than I thought I did.” Y/n gasped, taking her hand from his neck to slap his chest, giggling like a schoolgirl at his teasing.

“Shut up, you’ve wanted me since you met me,” She said to which Dream nodded.

“You got that right, baby.”

Feedback is greatly appreciated, always xoxo

#dream smp imagine #dream smp imagines #dream was taken #dream was taken imagine #dream was taken x reader #dream x reader #dream team imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream imagine #dream was taken imagines #minecraft imagine #dream smp x reader #sapnap imagine #georgenotfound imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken x reader

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nightowlfandom · 3 years

Text

CEO! Min Yoongi- My Favorite Secretary

Why hello there!

ANON ASKS

Hi! Want to make a nasty petition pls. I want CEO Yoongi but he is so mean and strict with y/n he discharges all his frustrations and stress on her until he gets to fuck with her. I want a hard smut plsss

With these :

3, 15, 21, 60, 66

OOOOH FUN!!! LET’S GET INTO IT I was not too proud of this one...but here you go! Yo this one was LOOONNGGG, like shit.

3- I said FUCKING BEG!

15- Whose gonna stop us? I own this fucking place, baby.

21- That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you? Look up at me like I’m your god.

60- I found that little journal you made about me. I think it’s so cute how you fantasize about me, darling.

66- I’m gonna corrupt your mind. I love to play with you like you’re a fucking violin.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

leggo!!

... (Monday)

“You’ll have to redo these reports.” a stack of papers was thrown onto your desk. You stared up at your boss in disbelief.

“And just what’s wrong with them?” you raised an eyebrow.

“There are exactly 15 typos in these reports and since I don’t care enough to go through them with you, I want them redone.”

Min Fucking Yoongi. CEO of Bangtan Enterprises. You of course were a humble secretary who wrote reports on every idol and client that walked through the damn door.

“I spent hours on those!” you tried to defend. “I already deleted the stupid file to save space on my computer!”

“You have until the end of the week.” he walked away without another word.

“Sora didn’t even turn in her reports because she stayed up playing fucking Doki Doki Handsome Husband Haven and you gave her an extension!”

Yoongi didn’t respond as he turned the corner.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” you seethed.

... (Thursday Afternoon)

“Y/N!” you heard the horribly scary voice.

“What now?” you whimpered. You turned around in your chair to see your boss fuming. “Yes, Mr. Min?”

“YOUR REPORTS ON MY CLIENT ARE LATE!”

“No they aren’t! They aren’t due for another three days!” you tried to defend. Everyone else was starting to stare. They all knew how they treated you and they all felt super bad that he chose you to bully.

“I SENT AN EMAIL YESTERDAY SAYING I WANTED IT TODAY AT 10:00 IT’S NOW 2:00!”

“No you didn’t! I would have seen it-” you tried to speak.

“YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES TO HAVE IT DONE OR YOU CAN SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR JOB.”

“Y/N, don’t cry...you’re doing that thing you do when you’re about to cry.” your friend came over to your side. “Don’t waste your tears on that asshole.”

You inhaled dramatically, starting to type furiously through your blurry vision. You felt the tear slip down your cheek and you went to furiously wipe it.

...(Lunchtime: Thursday Afternoon)

Sobbing in the bathroom was a thing right?

Your two friends, Dahyun and Sana stood outside the bathroom stall as you sobbed into your hands. They were convincing you to not quit.

“Y/N, You know this is the only job that will let you live comfortably in this city. Other than being a teacher...and who’d want that?” Sana shuddered. “He’s done this more than TWICE now.” (...I’M NOT SORRY)

“I HATE HIM! I FUCKING HATE HIM.” You cried. “WHY IS HE ALWAYS MEAN TO ME!” You furiously wiped your eyes.

“Y/N, Open the door.” Dahyun sighed. “Let us in.”

The stall door slowly open and your two friends were met by a totally distraught woman. Your hands were stained with your eyeliner that you hand managed to completely wipe off leaving your tired face.

“Y/N, he’s working you to the bone. You don’t even smile anymore.” Sana kneeled in front of you, taking your dirty hands into hers. “Why do you let him bully you?”

“Because if I don’t, I won’t have a job.” you sniffed.

“Is someone dying in here?” you heard Miss. Hyuna, another boss walk in. “Aw honey, did a boyfriend break up with you...do you want me to ‘accidentally’ get his car towed?”

Miss Hyuna was both Sana’s and Dahyun’s boss, you guys just liked to have lunch together.

“It’s Mr. Min.” Dahyun spoke for you. “He’s working Y/N to the bone. He only ever bullies her and no one else. I’ve seen it personally.”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow, looking less than happy. “Is that true Miss. L/N. Is Mr. Min treating you unfairly?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded.

“All he does is yell at and belittle her every chance he gets.” Sana looked at Miss. Hyuna.

“Hm, I’ll go talk to him, right now. If he fires you, he’ll answer to me.” was all she said before she walked away. She ignored Sana trying to hold you back from stopping her.

Hyuna walked out of the bathroom with fire in her eyes. She walked by your desk only to see what looked like an open notebook with the words ‘The Min Yoongi Files’ written in permanent marker on the first page.

“This must be her case.” she shut the notebook, ignoring the childish looking anime stickers on the inside page. “I should take this for evidence, I hope she won’t mind.”

“Yoongi!” Hyuna stormed into his office, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey Hyuna, what’s up?” Yoongi looked up from his lunch. “What can I do for you?”

“What’s this I hear about you mistreating a worker? One of YOUR workers?”

“Pardon me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Mistreating?”

“Two of MY workers are busy consoling Y/N L/N in the ladies restroom on their lunch break of all times because according to all three of them, you’ve been unfairly treating her!!” she glared. She slammed the notebook down on his desk. “This should speak for itself.” she sighed.

“I don’t mistreat Y/N L/N, She’s insolent! She needs discipline.”

“SHE’S YOUNG.” Was Hyuna’s comeback. “You can’t treat her like she’s a piece of garbage just because she makes one typo!”

“Her typos cost us time.”

“So does your shameless reprimanding her for missing a semicolon.” she rebutted. “Think about it! Are men always this stupid.” she looked him up and down before walking out of his office.

Yoongi watched dumbfounded. He took at look at the notebook she left behind.

“Property of Y/N L/N.” he read aloud. He flipped it open to the first page to see a bunch of shiny and matte stickers all over the inside cover. “The Min Yoongi Files? Speak for itself, huh?” (read more below the break)

...

(The Next Morning) (Smut Warning)

You begrudgingly trudged into the office. Not only were you tired, but you were dreading. You had multiple deadlines.

“L/N, MY OFFICE.”

“Shit...” you seethed. You walked past your desk into Yoongi’s office. He was sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a very familiar looking book. “You wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes, I did.” he shut the book and slid it over to you. “Care to explain?”

“Holy fu- ” You had forgotten you left your diary on your desk. How did he get a hold of that?

“ I found that little journal you made about me. I think it’s so cute how you fantasize about me, darling. Hyuna gave it to me thinking it was a list of every terrible thing I’ve done to you. I didn’t know it would be a list of every terrible thing you wanted me to do to you.” his face spread into a smirk.

“You read my property-”

“My name is on it, which means it’s company property by association.” he was still smirking. “Y/N, Y/N Y/N...I didn’t know you were such a needy little girl. On my desk, in the breakroom? The elevator of all places?? I didn’t even know you enjoyed when I raised my voice.“ he raised an eyebrow. “You do realize I could have you fired for writing about me in such a way.”

“Yes sir.” you whimpered. “I’ll have all my sh-..stuff off my desk by-”

“Y/N what on earth are you talking about?” he raised an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t think you are fired.”

“I’m sorry?” you raised an eyebrow, becoming very confused.

“Even though I’m an asshole, a big jerk, and the bane of your existence, you still want me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you have more of a backbone than I thought. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to miss a chance to break that spirit of yours.” he rose to his feet and walked around his desk to face you. “Get over here.” he urged.

He grabbed you by the hand and yanked you to his chest. He crashed his hot mouth over yours, capturing you in a kiss. He held both sides of your face gingerly. In a shock, you held onto his blazer jacket to stop from falling over.

“Hmm.” he moaned.

“Mr. Min!” you gasped. “We can’t- I’m your secretary!! And I don’t know if you’re aware of this but you hate me.”

“ Whose gonna stop us? I own this fucking place, baby. “ he laughed manically. “And who the hell said I hated you? Plus you want this. I know you do because you wouldn’t have written about me throwing you on my desk and eating that little pussy...fuck that was my favorite story to date.” he spoke in a babyish voice. “Shit I’ve always loved what that ass does to me.”

You felt yourself melt in every way. The thought that someone would storm in didn’t even cross your mind. He back you up against the table, sitting you on the desk. Yoongi tore off his blazer and hastily undid his necktie.

He broke away from you, allowing you to suck in air. You took a deep breath as you felt your lips. He practically tore his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere to reveal that body. To say you were taken aback was the understatement of the century.

“ That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you?” he smirked as you stared him down “ Look up at me like I’m your god” he quoted the exact words from the entry you had written just 5 days ago.

“Oh, you read the whole thing.” you squeaked. “I am so fucked.” you whimpered.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve been needing a good way to unleash my stress.” he shrugged. “This is perfect..” he motioned, tugging the hem of your shirt, playing with and unfastening each button. “I can take out my stress and you get to feel the real thing instead of writing shameless fan fiction.” he laughed. “Don’t make any mistakes,” he drank in your body. “I want this to be more than sex.”

Before you could say another word, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist again. He leaned down and softly kissed your lips. You just prayed he didn’t taste the bacon, egg, and, cream cheese bagel you ate this morning. You didn’t know what to do, so you shyly returned his affections.

“Come on, act like how you write about. Moan for me, grab my hair-” he mumbled through kisses. “Kiss me like you hate me.” he grunted. “Unless-...”

He abruptly yanked down your skirt along with your panties. “Maybe we should do this right. Spread em, secretary.”

He wasted no time in hooking your legs around his shoulders.

“Mr. M-min.” you whimpered, feeling something wet trailed up your slit.

“Shit...you taste so fucking good.” he moaned. “Damnit Y/N, you coulda told me you wanted me earlier.” he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Maybe if you had a good fuck, your reports would be more punctual.”

“That report wasn’t due and you know it.” you found it in you to reply. You tilted your head back, feeling his fingers be introduced into your tightness. “F-fuh”

“Come on, you love this shit.” he laughed, lashing his tongue against you. “Beg for me, beg for my mouth, beg for me to make you cum.” he moaned into your heat. “I said FUCKING BEG! ” he thrust his fingers even deeper. “Come on, scream my name.”

“M. Min, I- we- you....”

“Not that...my first name...fucking say it I wanna hear it. I wanna hear if its as cute in my mind when I read how I made you squirt all over my fucking desk.” he kept moving his mouth and fingers against you.

“Y-yoongi.” you obeyed. This only encouraged him.

“I’m gonna corrupt your mind. I love to play with you like you’re a fucking violin.” he giggled.

(3 days later... )

You were sitting at your desk when a stack of papers was thrown on your desk.

“There are 8 typos, fix them.” was all he said before he walked off.

“Not again.” your work friend, seethed “what is it this time.“ She didn’t look up from her computer as you flipped through the pages.

My office, now secretary ;). Followed by a whole bunch of gibberish that lasted several pages.

“I’ll go talk to him” you rolled your eyes, taking the pile with you. You walked into his office. “Okay sir-” you began, walking through the door. You closed it behind you. “What seems to be the-”

Before you could talk any more, you felt his hand trail under your skirt. You felt his breathy laugh on the back of your neck.

“I was hoping...we could go over your reports last week. I don’t think we got enough done, do you?”

(I was on a deadline....BUT I DID IT, my head is POUNDING)

224 notes · View notes

sundaysundaes · 4 years

Text

Jealousy

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Drama | NC-17 | College AU Summary: It comes as a nice surprise when you saw your ex-boyfriend at your workplace and you thought everything was going to be fine. You both have moved on, right? Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, thinks otherwise.

Warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral sex, slight choking, slight dirty talk, this is just pure filth you guys I’m so sorry I had too much feels

It’s the continuation of Before Our Story Began but can still be read separately if you want.

It has been months since you first dated Lee Donghyuck, also popularly known as Lee Haechan, and things were great—more than great, even, but all good things have come to an end at one point. Your relationship with Haechan is still going pretty strong, but now that you have passed the Honeymoon Phase—where it’s all just sex and raw passion—things can sometimes get a little tense.

While he’s been certainly fun and charming for the most times you’ve been together, not to mention adventurous when it comes to sex, Haechan can be really stubborn and selfish that you often start to bicker with him over the simplest of things.

Like yesterday, for example.

“Look, I said I’m sorry!” He whined and you held yourself back from rolling your eyes because that was so him and it wasn’t really cute anymore. Especially after he arrived an hour late at the cafe that he’d asked you to meet a day before.

“I’m not angry,” you stated, emptying the rest of your coffee. On the other side, Haechan’s ice americano was still pretty much full considering he just got there and you had ordered the drink for him an hour before, thinking that he was going to be on time for your date. But no, he was so into the new online game Jaemin had told him about a week ago that he began to lose track of time. It seemed to you that was all he’d been doing for the last few days, and you were fine with giving him some personal space but clearly not if he was wasting your precious time instead. Not everybody is as smart as him when it comes to keeping good grades. Maybe he doesn’t have to study much, but you do.

“You are! You’re totally angry!” He pointed out and you sighed because of course, I’m angry, you idiot, I had to spend an hour by myself doing literally nothing because you asked me to go out when I’m supposed to be working on my papers that’s due tomorrow but you kept yourself in silence. You had to be the adult in the relationship, especially when you’re dating a goddamn brat.

“Whatever.” You placed back your phone—which had been your only companion—into your purse and wore back your coat. “I have to go.”

His eyebrows—his thick, beautiful eyebrows that you love so much (though not that day) were knitted in both desperation and annoyance from how you acted. “Noona!” He wailed, grabbing your hand when you stood up from your seat. “What do you want me to do? If I could go back to the past, I would, but I can’t and you being unreasonably angry like this isn’t—”

“Unreasonably?”

Haechan’s jaw hung slackly on his face when he noticed the anger radiating off your body. You were angry before but not this angry. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, pulling your hand out of his grip. “I’ll see you later, Donghyuck.” It was cold, the way you said it, and Haechan sensed that. But being the whiny brat that he was, he just kept on shouting back, gathering people’s attention.

“Can’t we be adults and talk about this—Yah!” When you didn’t answer—or even glanced back at him—he threw his hands in the air, yelling, “You know what? Fine! I don’t really want to hang out with you anyway! In fact, it’s actually better for me if we don’t hang, ever!”

But you already had your feet out of the door.

On the next day, he came by to your dorm at four in the morning, making your roommate groan with a hellish fire burning in her eyes. “If that’s your boyfriend, I am going to kill him.”

“Don’t bother, I will,” you muttered in response before you stepped down from your bed, turned on the lighting (which earned another loud groan from your friend), and reached for the door. Haechan stood there with his hair looking like a bird’s nest, his cheeks reddening from the morning cold, and his eyes bleary from lacking sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he softly said in all of the sincerity he could emit. “I’ve been an asshole.”

“It’s four in the morning, Haechan-ah.”

“I know, but I can’t sleep thinking about what happened before and I don’t think I can before you forgive me.” He did his best pout. It was cute, but not cute enough to wash your vexation away. “Also, it’s raining heavily outside, if you haven’t noticed, so I thought it would add some dramatic effects to my apology.”

“You’re not wet though.”

“Neither were you before you met me,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows but when he noticed you glaring at him in reticence—oh if looks could kill—he flinched and hastily added, “Sorry, bad timing. I don’t know why I said that. Well, umm, it was kinda cold when I stepped under the rain so I decided to just bring an umbrella with me.” He suddenly seemed like he remembered something. “Oh yeah, can I leave it here? I’ve got an early class today and I don’t really want to carry it with me everywhere.”

That earned another flat stare from you. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, are you?”

“I am! I swear!” He squeaked, shuffling inside his bag before he took out a white box with a red bow wrapped around it. “Look, I brought you some chocolates.”

“I’m on a diet.”

“Well, now, how am I supposed to know?”

“I literally told you that yesterday.” To say he was testing your patience would be an understatement at that point. “Remember? When you arrived late on our date and you asked why aren’t you ordering anything and I said I’m on a fucking diet!”

“Yo, chill, I was just trying to be nice.” Haechan grabbed you by the shoulders, massaging the sore spots and it would probably feel good if you weren’t so pissed-off over his antics. “Also, Noona, don’t you know? Men have a harder time remembering things than women do. And that’s just scientifically speaking, not me.”

You exhaled so loudly into the air, slapping his hands away. “Look, it’s literally four in the morning. Can we talk again when the sun is up? Like normal people?”

“Noona, pleaseeeeee.” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I said I’m sorry! What else do you wa—”

“JUST FORGIVE HIM FOR FUCK’S SAKE! YOU GUYS ARE TAKING FOREVER AND YOU’RE GIVING ME HEADACHES!” Maybe you and Haechan were getting a bit loud, but your roommate was just shouting like she was about to march on a war so you didn’t really have the choice. It was either take your boyfriend’s apology or have your roommate kill both you and your boyfriend at the same time.

Haechan sheepishly and annoyingly smiled at you. “She’s got a point, you know.”

But, of course, he does learn his lesson from time-to-time so things don’t always end up in fights. And Haechan can be considerate, if he wants, noticing the little things that you do. Like when you’re wearing a new skirt (or new underwear, for that matter), giving you his jacket when you sniffle from the cold (as cheesy as that sounds, it does make your heart flutter a bit), or intertwining your fingers together when you’re nervous before your presentation.

Hopefully today this considerate version of his comes out to play again because there’s something you want to talk about with him.

“I think I need to start looking for a part-time job,” you say, sighing contently as he has his lips on your neck, suckling on the soft skin. Your fingers are playing with the soft strands of his hair, unconsciously tugging at them when he brings his tongue into the game. You know it’s not really the best time to have this conversation—especially not when he has his hand under your shirt as you sit on his lap at the back of his car—but with Haechan, it’s almost always like this whenever you’re alone with him so you don’t really have that many options. “I’m running out of money.”

“From dumping too many dead bodies in the swamp?” He chuckles next to your ear, unbuttoning more of your shirt and pushing the fabric off your shoulder. “Babe, I’ve told you,” he mouths against your skin. “You gotta search for a new swamp that’s free of charge—”

“Shut up.” But you’re laughing anyway. This inside joke you two have has become somewhat of a routine—a topic that pops out anytime in any conversation.

You can feel his grin pressing against the sensitive skin below your ear. “Told ya this swamp thing could be our thing.”

“No, I’m serious.” But despite that, you have to hold back a moan when you feel his hand roaming around your chest, his fingers slipping underneath your bra. You can’t tell him exactly why you need this job because you don’t want him to feel sorry for you. But the truth is, your parents back home have been having financial problems and you know how costly your college tuition can get. You just want to help out, even if it’s not much, and try to survive on your own without using your parents’ money. “I need some pocket money.”

Haechan has your earlobe between his teeth, his breathing feels warm and extremely sexy in your ears. “Mmm, for what?”

“To buy personal things.”

“What personal things?”

“Like…” You bite your lower lip, having the hardest time concentrating when he starts to play with your nipple, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bud. “I don’t know, like girl things.”

Haechan suddenly pulls away, looking you straight in the eyes with his own gleaming in excitement. “You mean like a customized dildo?”

“Make-up, Donghyuck.” You flatly stare back. All your sexual excitement from before? Gone. “I mean, make-up.”

“Sure, that too. But,” he insists and you roll your eyes, knowing where this is going. “Have you ever considered playing with a dildo in your spare time? Because I have. I mean, picturing you using it. Not me using it in my ass, oh God, no.”

“Are you done?”

“No, seriously.” It turns out, he’s not finished. And he still has a long way to go, judging by the enthusiastic look in his eyes. “Because I would totally buy it for you if it’s a dildo you need. Or any sex toys, for that matter. No matter how expensive it is, I’ll pay! I’ll save up some money and buy some so we can use them together in the future!”

He’s making it look like he’s talking about buying a house for your future marriage and it’s cute and disgusting at the same time so you stop him by pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s pathetic, the way he whines, but as long as it can stop him from sputtering nonsense, you’ll do it again.

“Why do you need make-up anyway?” He eventually gives up, rubbing his red nose, still wincing from the pain. “You’re already pretty without it.” And it really does sound sincere, the way he says it. Haechan flirts a lot, even when you’ve been together for months, he still does it pretty often. But he does have his sincerity from time to time, just like now, and you can’t help but blush a little because of it.

“Well, I’m more confident with it.”

“Well, of course, you do look smoking hot with your make-up on, don’t get me wrong,” he adds, lazily circling his arms around your waist as he leans his back to the car’s seat. “But you’re beautiful the way you are too. Like, you literally can wear that I woke up like this shirt every morning and you won’t find me complaining.”

“You complained about my morning breath this morning.”

“That you should work on.”

“Asshole.” You push a palm against his face, which he licks playfully like a dog. This is your favorite Haechan, if you have to be honest, with his lips pulled back showcasing a boyish grin, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you, and his voice sounding light and airy with a hint of teasing in his words. And of course, also with the way he has his hair slightly pushed back, his forehead shown and his eyebrows raised whenever he throws flirty lines at you.

You really should consider yourself lucky to be able to call someone like him, who has the perfect balance of cute and sexy, as your boyfriend.

“I really like you,” you say, abruptly out of nowhere that it surprises you too. Haechan’s laughter stops almost immediately, his eyes searching yours. There’s silence hanging in the air, slowly suffocating you, and you’re about to beg him to say something when he smiles, so gentle and soft, with his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb.

“I really like you too,” he says, almost like he’s sighing. His eyes go up-and-down your face, switching from your eyes and your lips. “I like you so much that it drives me crazy sometimes.”

It’s insane how fast he can turn your steady heart rate into something that beats too loudly for your ears. “Okay, stop right there. I can’t with all this cheesiness you’re throwing at me. Let’s just make-out.”

And that sexy smirk of his grows back almost immediately. “I won’t argue with that.”

***

It’s not easy getting a job these days, especially when you don’t really have a set of skills you can be proud of but luckily enough, you’ve found a part-time job as a waiter at a family restaurant nearby. The salary is slightly below your expectation so maybe you have to recalculate your budgeting again but beggars can’t be choosers. You thought it should be enough for now. And the most important thing is, you only have to work three days a week so you can fit in well with your campus’ schedule.

The only remaining problem is your boyfriend because, believe it or not, he demands more time than all of your classes and assignments combined.

“I can’t believe we have our Netflix account renewed like two months ago and yet we haven’t watched anything on it,” Haechan complains, a bag of popcorn on his lap. He’s in his black sweat pants, hair all tousled from lying around on the bed all day. He’s already munching more than he should, even way before you can log in to your Netflix account. “At this point, we’re just throwing our money away.”

“Don’t blame me,” you retort, taking the bowl into your arms so you can climb into his lap, snuggling close to his chest. “I’m not the one who got my dick hard during the first half of literally every movie we decided to watch together.”

“You literally rubbed your ass against my crotch every single time. What a man gotta do in that situation?”

A smile creeps up your face. That you certainly did. It’s just so funny to have him flinch every now and then whenever you move slightly in his arms so you often just exaggerate your movements a bit, sometimes leaning forward in a suggestive way whenever you tried to change the brightness of your MacBook screen—so Haechan could take a good look of your ass—before settling back between his legs, making sure to give him enough friction as you slid down. Or sometimes you just laid your head on his shoulder, pressing a random kiss to his neck, and just went back to watching the screen as if you didn’t do anything. It really didn’t take long before Haechan groaned in exasperation, threw the bowl away, tackled you down to the bed, and pulled your shorts down your legs.

“Should I move away then?” You offer. “We can stay, like, five feet apart from each other as we watch this.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, pulling you closer again to his chest. “I like to snuggle. You’re warm and you smell really good, it comforts me. Besides, having sex with you is so much better than watching every movie out there.”

“Even better than watching The Kissing Booth?”

“Yah!” The way his cheeks turn scarlet almost immediately is too cute for you to handle. “You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me! See, this is why I—”

You cut him off with a chaste kiss, letting your lips linger on his the way he likes it before you pull away and pat him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Forgive me?”

Haechan unconsciously juts his lower lip out, just a little. “Fine,” he mutters, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist before he skims his nose along the nape of your neck. “Only because you’re cute,” he whispers.

“Oh right, that reminds me,” you say, closing your eyes as you listen to his breathing. It’s somewhat calming your nerves, after a long day of doing… well, nothing, actually. “I’ll be busy every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday from now on so we won’t be able to hang out during those days.”

“What?!” He shrieks, almost turning you deaf. “Why?!”

“Because I have my part-time job, didn’t I tell you that before?” You can honestly hear your ears ringing from the loudness of his voice. “Or did you not listen to me again?”

“I can handle it if you work during the weekdays, but on the weekends too?” He’s actually looking pretty upset, though not that you haven’t expected him to be. “That’s our time! How can you do that to me? To us?! This is so not fair!”

You roll your eyes. “Stop being a drama queen. You literally spent the last weekend playing Overwatch at Jaemin’s place.”

“Whoa, hey,” he crows, pulling away from you with both hands raised in the air and forcing you to turn and look at him in the eyes. You do it as you nonchalantly munch on your popcorn, enjoying how dramatic your boyfriend can be at times like this. “Once again, lady,” he stresses on the word, narrowing his eyes at you. “They were holding a very, very important Anniversary Event and that does not happen every day. It’s not like I have any other choice! They were giving out new skins and other rewards!”

“Your choice was to spend your Saturday night with your fingers on your keyboard or in me. That was your choice.”

Haechan opens his mouth to say something, already holding out one finger in the air as if he’s about to make a good excuse but he fails almost immediately when your point begins to sink in his head. “You’re right,” he admits, “I’m sorry. What was I thinking? I should’ve been wiser.”

You pat his hair as you would do to a child. “Look, we can still hang out. I only work during the day, you know. You can always pick me up after work and we can get dinner together or something.”

He pouts, lowering his head as he murmurs, “It’s still not the same, though. I like spending time with you.”

You can feel your heart flutter from the way he says his line so genuinely. “Me too, Haechannie. Let’s just promise to always meet up on the weekends after I’m done with my work.”

The pout still does not falter away but it’s nothing a kiss can’t fix.

***

“Haechannie, I really need to go.” You struggle to slip yourself away from his long arms, holding back a laugh as you do it, and you almost reach the end of his bed but your boyfriend easily hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest.

After not seeing each other for five days, you could finally see your boyfriend with his dazzling bright smile in person when he picked you up after work on a Saturday evening. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed him until he snatched you back into his embrace, intoxicating you with his amazing scent and airy laughter that sounds like music to your ears. It was a good thing being separated for a few days like that because Haechan became much more clingy in the most adorable way, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Even during sex, he was all giggly and soft, gently asking you how you feel, whether he was being too fast, or simply just telling you how beautiful you look even when you were pretty much exhausted from work. It was a nice change.

Both of you are still pretty much naked from the morning shower you just took together—or rather, the morning shower you took when suddenly your boyfriend came barging in, greasily saying, “My, my, there’s a naked lady in my shower. This must be my lucky day,” and ended up moaning against your mouth instead of washing the soap off your body.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, smiling into the kiss just like you do and you let him part your lips with his, slowly slipping his tongue in and tasting the roof of your mouth. “Oh man, I must be a freak for being so turned on from the fact that you’re wearing my shampoo.”

“You’ve always been a freak,” you snicker, pushing his face away with your palm. “Now, get off me. Jaemin can come back any second.”

“Jaemin’s too busy sucking Jeno’s morning wood, I’m sure. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

“Well, my shift is starting in thirty minutes.”

“Which leaves us twenty-nine minutes and fifty seconds to get each other off and ten seconds for you to get ready.” He lowly chuckles, his voice still sounding quite deep from sleep as he nips against the column of your neck.

“I’m serious…” You can tell that your voice becomes way less convincing. It’s just Haechan feels so warm and he smells so good, you have to literally offer your best effort to deny him and his touches. You’re still in the middle of putting in that so-called effort when you notice he’s sucking on the supple skin, to the point it begins to hurt a little bit. “Don’t suck too hard! You’ll leave bruises and I am not gonna wear a scarf again.”

“Good,” he murmurs against your skin. “So everyone will know you’re mine.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You sigh, tangling your fingers around his hair, arching your back to press your body closer to him. “You can be too possessive sometimes, do you know that?”

“Any man would if their girlfriend is as pretty as you,” he replies, pulling away from you a little so he can bore his eyes into yours. “Stay with me today.”

As much as you want to, especially with that hooded eyes looking at you with so much passion and desire, you have to be the responsible adult for today. “I can’t, Haechannie.”

“Noona~” His serious demeanor falters, and the whiny brat that he is comes back to the surface again. “Pleaseeee~ I’m lonely and I’m hard, can’t you just be kind to me for just one day?”

“Are you using your aegyo on me to get a quickie? Seriously?”

“What, it’s not working?” He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with that sexy smirk and his eyebrow raised seductively. “I thought aegyo was your thing.”

No, but your goddamn smirk and eyebrow raise surely are. “Fuck, okay, ten minutes. Can we finish in ten minutes?”

“I can guarantee that you will.” His smirk grows wider, licking his lower lip. “But I’m not sure if you can make me.”

“Is that a challenge?” You push him with both hands until he falls back to the bed, with you straddling his lap. “I’m going to make you take your words back, Lee Donghyuck, you better be prepared.”

***

You’ve broken two plates so far, and you’re sure you’re about to be fired if you even do a tiny mistake in the next hour but you try to keep yourself calm and composed and promise yourself to do better. It’s not that you’re a lousy waiter—okay, maybe a bit from the lack of experience—but the restaurant you’re working in can be surprisingly packed during lunch hours and it’s really taking all that you have to carry three porcelain plates on a tray as you walk on high heels that are killing you in every step you take. You often complain about the blisters at the back of your heels when you sit next to Haechan in his car, which usually ends up with him massaging your feet, while mumbling, “See, this is why you should’ve agreed with me when I told you about buying dildos. I would work my ass off to pay for that, and you can just lie around in my room all day.”

You’re getting better at your job the more days go by, and you’re much confident now in talking with customers. You’re already standing pretty in your uniform with a menu book in your arms, ready to greet the next customer but when the front door opens, all of your professionalism just goes straight out of the window.

“No way…” Your jaw hangs loosely on your face, eyes blinking twice in surprise. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. There, walking through the entrance door of the restaurant, is your ex-boyfriend from high school, Jeong Jaehyun. Dressed perfectly in a light blue buttoned-up shirt and a pair of black khaki pants, Jaehyun looks much, much better than how you remembered him to be. His dark hair stands in contrast to his pale skin, his veins appearing along his wrists and you have to remind yourself to stop staring and proceed with your work.

You take hesitant steps to meet him, swallowing your nervous breath and hoping that you don’t look as awkward as you think. You almost trip on your own feet when you notice Jaehyun looking back at you, his eyes widening in surprise before his lips turn upward into that gentle smile that reminds you of how he used to be back in high school. Maybe some things never change.

“Hi,” you greet with an awkward smile on your face.

“Hey.” The way his eyes droop slightly when he sees you feels nostalgic, and perhaps he’s much taller now because you have to look up to meet his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you. It’s been a while.”

“You’re right,” you reply, chuckling a little to mask how tense you really are. “Would you like me to take you to your seat?”

“Oh no, I won’t be long,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to talk to the manager for a sec.”

You furrow your eyebrows, trying your best not to get distracted with the way his hair ruffles almost perfectly under his touch. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, just wanted to see the latest financial report.” He smiles, showcasing his teeth. “My grandfather owns this place, and I’m helping him take care of the business while he’s overseas.”

Fuck. “A-ah, is that so?” Meeting him once as a customer is already painfully awkward enough for you to bear, but actually working for him?!

“I won’t bother you, I promise,” Jaehyun immediately adds, “I wasn’t aware that you work here, actually. Has it been long since you started?”

“About two weeks.” You fidget on your feet, having the hardest time making eye contact with him. “And I’m not very good at this.”

“Wait, are you the one who keeps breaking plates?”

You wince. “Yes. Can you please not fire me? I’ll pay for them, I promise.”

And Jaehyun laughs, his deep voice booming into the air. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for them myself if that’s what it takes to keep you around.” He says his lines so naturally that it surprises you both when the words finally sink in. “I—I mean,” he clears his throat, “It’s just really been a while since I last saw you so I thought we should really catch up on things. How are you?”

“I’m—”

“Boss,” your manager suddenly comes to interrupt, carrying some paper sheets in her arms. “These are the reports you wanted. I can e-mail you the rest if you need more details.” And when she sees you standing next to Jaehyun with the worst looking smile you’ve ever had on your face, she squints her eyes menacingly at you, “What did you do this time?”

“She didn’t do anything,” Jaehyun hastily answers before you can even form a word of protest. “She’s a dear friend of mine. It’s been a while since we talked, so do you mind if I borrow her for a while?”

Your manager seems utterly shocked and you kind of dance happily in your mind because she’s been kind of mean to you—though you were the one who gave her the reasons to be—and seeing her speechless, only able to mumble out a small, “S-sure,” before she trails away back to her office like this becomes the highlight of your day.

“Thank you,” you say to him, not sure why but it feels right.

“Let me know if she bullies you again,” he says, gently patting you on the head and you can feel his fingers slowly brush your bangs off your temple. It seems like he’s unaware of what he’s doing and you can understand why because that’s just his habit, even from the time when you hadn’t started dating yet. You remember the time when he said he liked your eyes—he thought they were beautiful, and hiding them under your bangs like that was a shame.

You take a step back, looking anywhere but his eyes. “Umm…”

“Right, sorry,” he fumbles with his hands, the tip of his ears growing red. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Can we just sit and talk?”

You smile, genuinely this time. He really hasn’t changed despite his appearance. “Sure.”

***

Jaehyun doesn’t visit the restaurant every day and you don’t really expect him to, but when he does, he always spares some time to talk to you privately—usually during your break time so your manager can stop throwing ice daggers from her eyes at you.

“I’ve tried to call you after graduation,” he confesses as he takes you out for some coffee at the nearest cafe. Your shift is over and you’re waiting for Haechan to pick you up but he’s running late because he has to take a quiz that he missed from skipping the class the previous week—you guess it had something to do with him pulling an all-nighter playing Overwatch again—and you told him to take his time.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Several times, actually, but I couldn’t get connected.”

“Maybe you called after I lost my phone,” you reply, taking a sip of your hot latte and wincing when it nearly scalds your tongue. “I had to change my number. I lost my contacts and everything.”

“That makes sense. Would it be okay if I ask for your numbers now?”

“Only for business purposes,” you tease, and he grins back, almost boyishly.

“Only for business purposes,” he confirms, “Just so I can give you a heads-up when I’m about to fire you.”

You gasp, half-amused, half-terrified. “Please tell me you’re joking.” And he only responds with another laugh. Talking with Jaehyun is easy and comforting, and he really listens to what you’re saying like a loving older brother taking care of his sister. It’s a nice change considering it’s always you who have to act like the mature one when having a conversation with Haechan—not that it isn’t good. It just can get quite tiring after some time.

Jaehyun is in the middle of walking you back to your workplace when he tells you stories about the things he did after graduation, and how he’s planning to continue with his study overseas to get a master’s degree in business management as soon as he’s done with his work here. You’re so entranced with his story that you barely notice your boyfriend waiting with his back pressed against the side of his car, eyes busy staring at his phone screen.

“Haechannie, you’re here!” You run to his spot, a grin spreading wide on your face before you lean up and kiss his cheek.“When did you get here?”

“Noonaaaaa,” he pouts, voice becoming whiny as usual. Compared to how he acts, he’s dressed maturely in a white shirt and a black leather jacket, his silver necklace hanging low on his neck. It takes you a good five seconds to ogle at his amazing looks while telling your heart not to get too excited. At least not until you get back at the dorm so you can rip that shirt off him with your own hands. “I’ve been calling you three times already. Where have you been?”

“You have?” You immediately check on your phone, noticing that yes, in fact, he did call you three times. You didn’t notice before because your phone was on silent. “I’m sorry, I forgot to switch it back after work. Did you wait long?”

“A bit,” he pushes his bottom lip out but it soon turns into a cheeky grin. “But nothing a kiss can’t fix.”

“Haechannie.” You pat him softly on his cheek. “We’ve got company.” And at that, he begins to widen his line of sight—because he usually just focuses on you and forgets his surroundings—and spots Jaehyun standing a few meters behind you with his hands buried deep within the pockets of his pants.

“Oh,” he comments, acting nonchalant though you notice by the slight raise of his eyebrow that he’s already annoyed by his presence. “Who are you?”

It’s kind of rude to suddenly ask for his name, especially in the cold tone Haechan is using and Jaehyun’s lips twitch at his words. “Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Well, Jeong Jaehyun,” Haechan says with mockery on his tone, straightening his posture and you wonder whether it’s because he feels slightly inferior to Jaehyun’s height. “My girlfriend and I would like some privacy from now on, so if you can just run along now, that’d be great.”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder, gasping in disbelief before you turn around to face the other man. “I’m sorry, he can be quite rude sometimes but I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“Meant it with all my heart.”

“Be quiet.” And even Haechan can tell for his own good that he shouldn’t push your buttons further than that.

“It’s okay, I have to go anyway,” Jaehyun casually says, smiling angelically like how he always does though his eyes don’t really play along. “Your boyfriend is cute. How old are you? Does your mom know you’re still playing outside at this hour?”

Oh my God, not you too. You immediately grab Haechan’s hand to stop him before he flings himself forward and throws an arm toward the other man. You can see him clenching his jaw, almost baring his teeth when Jaehyun laughs quietly to himself, saying, “I’m just kidding. Have a good night, you two,” before he walks back to the restaurant, most likely to have another business talk with the manager.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Haechan blurts out, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. You stroke his arm, trying to soothe him down but what he does is relocating his glare on you instead, almost yelling, “Why were you with him? How many times have you guys seen each other? And why on earth did you take his side?!”

You’re too tired to care, to be honest, let alone answering him. You’re also suffering from the cold of the night, wanting desperately to climb into Haechan’s car and put on the heater to warm yourself up. “I’ll explain on our way back,” you sniffle, squeezing his hand. “Can we get inside the car? Please? I’m freezing.”

You can tell he’s still very much upset but his gaze softens when he sees puffs of air flowing from your chapped lips and your nose turning red. He sighs into the air but opens the door for you. He doesn’t really talk until he has his engine started, and you can practically see steam coming out from his ears as he drives into the night.

“Have you had dinner yet?” You ask, trying to keep as casual as you can.

“No.”

“Should we order something—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“O… kay…” You hold yourself back from sighing too loud. He’s testing your patience again, but it’s fine, you’re the mature one. You can handle this. “We’ll just go straight back to my place then. I’m sure I can make you something. I think I still have some pasta with—”

“I think I’m just gonna go back to my room right after I drop you off.” His words don’t hurt as much as the tone he’s using. You’re trying to patch things up even though you’re sure you haven’t done anything wrong but he’s not even trying to apologize about how rude he acted earlier. You can’t help but snap, probably because your fatigue is taking its toll. You figure you can act mature any other time, but not today.

“Okay, what is wrong with you?” You can feel your voice rising and it forces him to sneaks a glance at you but only for a split second before he brings back his eyes on the road again. “I’ve been trying to be nice to you but you keep on acting like a brat—”

“Oh, of course, now you have a problem with me being a brat.” He grits his teeth, sinking his nails into the steering wheel. “I think we both know that’s pretty much how I act around you—around anyone, really—and if I remember it clearly, you said being a brat was part of my charm. That was, of course, before you met this oh-so-mature Jung fucking Jaehyun and suddenly, now, I’m fucking annoying.”

“I didn’t just meet him, Hyuck.” You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been friends with him since high school.”

He clicks his tongue in aggravation, quietly adding, “Friends that fucked each other whenever your parents weren’t around, I’m sure.” And he probably didn’t mean his words to be heard because he just said them out of spite, but you did hear him and it makes your blood sparks in fury.

“Actually, yes,” you jeer back, “We did. He was the one who took my virginity away, just so you know and—WHOA!”

The sudden turn of the wheels makes you yelp and scramble to wrap your fingers tightly around your seatbelt as if you were hanging for dear life, and Haechan suddenly stomps his feet on the brakes, messily parking his car on the side of the street and earning a lot of angry car honks from the drivers behind him in return.

“What?!” He shouts, eyes wide, completely ignoring the passerby or the fact that you’re still trying to catch your breath. “You had sex with him?!”

“Once, Donghyuck, Jesus Christ!” You almost yank every strand of your hair out of your head. “Just once! And I never did that with anyone else until I met you!”

“I can’t believe you never told me this! And now you just hang around with him behind my back?!”

“What’s there to tell?! It’s in the past, way back when I didn’t even know your name. It’s not like you tell me things like this too. I don’t have problems with you sleeping with hundreds of girls before you met me.”

The sudden silence that surrounds you snap you back to reality and you regret everything you just said because you know you didn’t mean it. Well, it certainly has been bugging you for quite some time whenever you think about how easy and casual he’s always been when it comes to sex—not to mention how experienced he is—so you can’t help but wonder. You do understand that it’s not fair blurting about it to him like this, though. Especially not in this situation.

And the way he just suddenly becomes mute almost makes you shudder.

“Hyuck, I didn’t mean—”

“So that’s how you think of me?” He asks, voice low and deep. “Is that the reason why you’re seeing him? Because you don’t trust me?”

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you almost scream from all this frustration you’re venting out. “This is getting out of hand. Okay, first, that was wrong of me to say that and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. And second, stop being so jealous—I was only out with him to get some coffee. We no longer have feelings for each other, I can assure you that.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “Sure. Whatever.”

“Hyuck, he’s my boss! I was just being polite—”

“Well, that’s just fucking great, isn’t it? No wonder you keep insisting on taking this job. It’s not even about the money now, is it?” He slams his hand against the steering wheel, groaning out, “I’m so fucking stupid,” before he throws his head to the side, glaring at the scenery outside his window instead of you.

There’s silence hanging in the air again and you take a deep breath to calm yourself as much as you can because you know where this is going. You just hope you’re wrong. “Why does it sound like you’re accusing me of cheating on you?”

“Because maybe deep down, that’s what you’re doing?” He’s not even looking at you when he says it, but the bitterness in his voice is clear and it’s loud enough to finally tweak the final string of patience you have left in you.

So you grab your purse, carry your jacket in one arm and step down from the car. “I’m taking a cab,” you say and when he still doesn’t look at you, you add, “Come talk to me when you’re mature enough to have this conversation.”

And not knowing your own strength, you slam the door until his ears begin to ring.

***

It’s the worst fight you’ve ever had, not just with him but with anyone else too. You’re more the type that avoids situations like this—one that says sorry even when you know you’re not doing anything wrong just to reduce the tension, so this fight you’re having with Haechan has been ruining your mood for a whole damn week since day one. And the fact that he doesn’t come to apologize or even send a text or two is driving you insane.

You can’t help but to dwell in his way of thinking, trying to see whether it’s really your fault that this is happening. Yes, maybe you should’ve explained better, but he wasn’t really giving you the chance to do it, was he? And yes, maybe you should’ve told him about you hanging out with Jaehyun every now and then or the fact that he’s your boss but you just couldn’t find the right timing before. Well, it’s certainly too late to start now.

Should I call him…?

Because you miss him. You miss Haechan so badly. You miss his bratty smile, you miss his annoying whine, you miss his stupid dazzling smile, you miss his scent, his kiss, his embrace—everything about him. You didn’t realize how close he was to you—already becoming a big part of your life—and you just really notice it now when he’s completely out of your sight.

“Fuck this.” You’re in the middle of searching his name in your contacts and about to press dial when suddenly you get his message.

Can we meet tomorrow?

It’s really weird that a simple text can make your heart race and almost send you jumping in delight. Trying to keep your heart rate back to normal, you type back.

Of course. What time? Where?

You wait for his reply and it seems like the time suddenly slows down where seconds feel like hours. You nibble at your bottom lip, hesitating at first but sending it anyway.

I miss you, Haechannie.

Your heart starts hammering against your ribcage again. A lot of thoughts begin entering your mind at the same time, making you worry about what if he wants to meet me because he wants to break up with me? What if he doesn’t miss me and he’s grossed out with my text? What if—

His reply arrives with a slight ding coming from your phone, and with shaky hands, you open his text.

I’ll text you the time and place tomorrow morning.

There’s a disappointment that bubbles up inside your chest but the next text from him erases all of that almost instantly.

I miss you too, Noona. Good night.

And you think that maybe tonight, you can finally have a good sleep.

***

“Can you fill in for tonight?”

It’s the first thing your manager said to you the second you stepped inside the restaurant. You haven’t even taken your jacket yet, and it’s really rare to see your manager walking around the place on a Sunday morning but here she is, and she’s already ordering things around.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry. “Pardon?”

“There will be a banquet tonight for the Jeong family and we need every waiter we can get. I know you’re lousy at your job but Jaehyun-Sajangnim seems to like you so I hope you can stick longer for a few hours.”

“I…” You wet your lower lip anxiously. “I can’t. I already promised someone—”

“Look, this is not a request. It’s an order.” She seems like she’s running out of patience. “But I’ll pay handsomely for your time. I think you need the money to pay for those two plates you broke anyway. You know how expensive they are.”

You wince. “Yes, Ma’am.” It’s not like she’s leaving you with any other option. You figure you can call Haechan later during your break time. It’s still not confirmed anyway, your date with him. You’ll think of a way to make it up to him.

It’s only for a few hours anyway, right?

I’ll just text him now. You dip your hand into your purse, trying to find your iPhone as fast as you can. You run your fingers along the screen, typing letters with your thumbs.

Haechannie, something came up and I have to stay longer at work. I’ll see you later tonight at your place and we can talk then.

“What are you doing standing around like that?” Your manager suddenly shouts and you almost drop your phone in surprise. “Go and change your uniform now, we’re opening the place in ten minutes!”

“Y-yes, Ma’am!” You fumble with your steps, throwing your phone back into your purse in a hurry. You inwardly sigh. Today is going to be a long day.

I’m sorry, Haechannie.

***

“Great work today,” Jaehyun says when most of his family members have left the restaurant. You didn’t realize how big and wealthy his family was so it amazed you that one family could occupy the whole seatings they have in this place. There were more than thirty people in the room before and you had to change your high heels into a pair of flat shoes so you can run from one table to another while carrying several plates at once.

“Not really, I almost broke another plate today,” you respond with a sigh, which earns a low chuckle in return. Jaehyun has his back leaning against the wall just an arms reach away from the front door, waiting for you to finish shoving all your belongings into your bag before he curls his fingers around the doorknob and twists it open.

“Thanks,” you say, almost sheepishly because it looks weird, no matter how you see it—your boss is opening the door for you. “Stop being so nice, Jae, you’re making other staff jealous.”

“But I do this to all my staff,” Jaehyun snickers, following after your trail.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hey,” he calls, placing his hand on your shoulder so you’ll stop on your track and turn around to face him. “Thank you.”

You raise your eyebrow questioningly. “For what?”

“For acting like how you normally do around me,” he explains, smiling a little bit bashfully. “For not being so awkward after our break-up.”

“Oh… Well…” You try to focus your gaze somewhere else, suddenly finding the silver watch you wear around your wrist entertaining. “It’s been years since then, I think we both have moved on by now, right?”

There’s a thick tension growing between the two of you and you almost beg him to say something before it starts to suffocate you.

“Sure,” he says, but the pressure in his tone speaks otherwise. You look up to meet his eyes, expecting him to smile and bring another topic into the conversation, but all he does is just gazing at you with these gentle, almost longing eyes that make your heart stops for a split second.

You know this can’t go any further.

“Well, uhh,” Jaehyun clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, perhaps feeling rather embarrassed himself. “It’s already late. Do you want me to escort you back to your place?”

And you find it hard to form a sentence, still somewhat baffled from the way he’s acting around you, and you’re so unfocused that when another voice enters your hearing, it shocks you down to your spine.

“I’ll be taking her from here,” Haechan says, startling you both and you turn around so fast on your heel to face him that you almost stumble forward. Your boyfriend is standing with one hand carrying a black suit and another one digging inside the pocket of his pants, dressed nicely in a white buttoned up with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has the top two buttons of his shirt loosened, showing a glimpse of his collar bones and the silver necklace he usually hangs around his neck. His short brown hair is parted to the side, slightly pushed back to showcase his temple. You’ve never seen him dressed so sharp and elegantly before since the first day you met him and you can’t help but feel a little bit starstruck from the way he looks. But you soon realize that there must be a reason why he’s so dressed up and you feel terrible because you don’t know what it is.

What day is it today?

“Haechan—”

The way he grabs your hand shows how agitated he actually is despite the calm facade he places on his face, and it’s glaringly possessive the way he drags you to match his step on the way to his car but you follow him without a word, not even sparing a glance at Jaehyun who’s looking at him as if he just stole something important from him. Haechan opens the door to the passenger seat, and you climb in with your heart thrumming loud against your chest.

Haechan walks to the other side without making eye contact with Jaehyun but even at that point, your ex-boyfriend doesn’t dare to say a word or make a move, probably because he knows he has no right to do so. Haechan does not look angry and neither does he act like it but the quietness that fills the space between you, even when his car engine is blaring noisily outside, speaks louder than everything that he does.

“Umm.” You suddenly feel parched, your throat burning with every word you try to form. “T-thank you for picking me up.” You’re about to flinch from how terrible you just sounded. “I thought you were waiting at the dorm. Didn’t you get my text?”

It takes a few seconds that feel like forever for him to answer. “I don’t know, did you send me one?” He simply asks, voice flat and nonchalant, as he switches the gears of his car.

Did I not? You gulp in horror and begin to frantically search for your phone in your purse. Your heart almost leaps out from your chest when you see your phone is dead, probably ran out of battery sometimes during your hectic hours. You didn’t check on it before because you thought that Haechan most likely had seen your text and was waiting for you at the dorm, so you decided to just run in a hurry without texting him that your shift had ended. You were also busy talking with Jaehyun and felt it wouldn’t be polite for you to check on your phone while he was around.

But, as you connect your phone to your power bank, turning it on, and run your thumbs along the screen, you notice one thing: you didn’t send him anything.

“I’m—” A shiver runs down your spine. “I’m sure I texted you before—why—” You remember how your manager suddenly interrupted you when you were about to send the text. You must have forgotten to press send, and seeing how there are suddenly a lot of messages coming to your phone at once from him makes your heart drop to the floor.

I’ve made a reservation at Boccalino at 7 p.m. I know how you’ve always wanted to go there. Wear something nice.

Where are you now? Are you still at work? Do you want me to pick you up?

You’re probably busy at work. I’ll just see you at our table, okay? Don’t be late.

I haven’t heard from you. Where are you? I’m on my way to the restaurant to make sure our reservation is still on.

All my calls are going straight to voicemails. Where are you?

You’re an hour late. Where are you?!

You can feel the tremble in your fingertips as you hold your phone, your eyes running back and forth in horror. Haechan still doesn’t speak a word, focusing his eyes entirely on the road that lays in front of him.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Even though you know you’re already so out of line and probably won’t be forgiven anytime soon, you still apologize because what else can you say? “I didn’t realize my phone was dead. And I was sure I’d texted you but—”

“It’s fine,” he says as he props his elbow against his window, rubbing the side of his temple with his fingertips. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And with that, the conversation ends. Your thoughts are running fast, trying to come up with a better apology or find a way to patch things up but you can’t. The more plans you make, the more you hate yourself for being so stupid and ruin this whole thing for him. The drive back to your dorm is filled with nothing but silence, and you spend the entire time counting the street light that glows faintly on the side of the road.

You do notice something, though. Haechan’s phone keeps on making little sounds, notifying him that he’s receiving text messages and chats. There was also a phone call which he ignored even when the street light was red, only saying, “I’ll just call back later,” when you nervously ask him about it.

It’s when he walks you back to your dorm, that you begin to gain the courage to ask about it. “You’re getting awfully a lot of texts today.”

“They just want to congratulate me,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets so you can’t take a hold of any of them as you walk beside him.

“On what?”

“My birthday.”

You wish the earth could just swallow you whole because how fucking ignorantly stupid can you be? It’s the sixth of June today, and you were so busy dealing with the fight and minding your own business that you forgot the birthday of the most important person in your life right now. You can feel how your legs almost give out under your weight, your head’s spinning.

And apparently, you’re doing it again, so lost in your own thoughts that Haechan has to say, “We’re here,” to snap you back to reality. You’re now standing gawkily in front of the door to your room, palms getting sweaty from how nervous you are. Haechan murmurs something about seeing you later and you’re about to burst into tears from how terrible you feel for him so you hastily grab him by his wrist, fingers almost sinking into his skin from how desperate you’re being.

“Stay with me,” you beg with quivers in your voice. “Please, just—I need to talk to you.”

Haechan stares at you with cold eyes, his jaw clenching slightly. But he doesn’t pull back his arm and follows your trail with heavy steps as you step inside your room. He closes the door behind him and leans his back against it, still not saying anything.

You’re so occupied with trying to form a coherent sentence that you forget to be thankful about how your roommate is away for the weekend again, providing you the opportunity to have the entire room for yourself. You decide to not make any excuses and apologize for every little dumb thing you’ve been doing for the whole day—no, for a whole week even, since the time your fight started. But no matter what you say, Haechan is staring at you with lifeless eyes, as if he’s just too tired to listen—as if he just no longer cares.

And that scares the life out of you.

“Hyuck, please,” you whisper, closing the distance between you until you can feel his warm breath caressing your cheek. You have your palm pressing against the side of his face, “Say something.” You know it’s not right, but you lean in for a kiss. It’s not just because you’re desperate to pull an emotion out of him; it’s more because you miss him so terribly so, it’s driving you crazy.

Haechan has his eyes closed by instinct but he doesn’t kiss back, only letting your lips linger on him, sharing his breath. And though it feels like there’s a javelin slowly sinking into your chest, you try again, kissing him with more passion, hooking your arm around his neck to pull him closer. Haechan tears himself away, his gaze turning dark as he stares at you and you look at him back with desperation in your eyes.

“Haecha—”

It’s like something snaps inside him and he suddenly no longer has control over his own free will, because Haechan is now pushing your body against the door, slamming your spine against the surface none too gently with his hands on each side of your head, lips chasing after yours. You let out a gasp, both from the shock and the pain that stings from the back of your head, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue delving in to explore the inside of your mouth. His fingers trail down from your cheeks to your jaw, before they rest on the sides of your neck, his fingertips probing against your veins. You’re not sure whether he does it unconsciously from the sheer excitement or something else but the way his hand is holding you by the neck, his fingers low key choking you make your adrenaline runs faster.

He doesn’t give you the chance to process every single thing that’s happening, or even breathe, for that matter. The next thing you know, he already has his hands running down to your thighs, pulling them up so you have no other choice but to tangle your legs around his waist and groan when he presses your hips together. Hearing the sound of his name tumbling down your lips in a desperate, needy moan, Haechan groans at the back of his throat, his hands moving up to palm your breasts before they start to struggle with your shirt.

You’re doing the same thing, just as eager to get him out of his white shirt so you can latch your lips on his smooth sun-kissed skin. But unlike you who struggle to unbutton his shirt one by one, Haechan’s patience is wearing thin so he ends up just ripping your uniform, buttons clattering down to the floor.

“Wait, Hyuck—” You’re forced to swallow whatever it is you’re trying to say when Haechan sinks his teeth down to the skin that connects your neck to your shoulder, pushing the fabric of your shirt down to expose more of your bare skin. Your whole body shudders, clutching to him with every strength you have. It hurts, the way he bites and nibbles along your sensitive skin, but at the same time, it sends electricity down to every inch of your body.

“Do you have any idea how fucking pissed I am right now?” He says in a low, dangerous voice as he gnaws around your earlobe. “Turn around.”

With his nails sinking into your hips, he forces you to turn on your heel, pressing the side of your face against the door and tears your shirt away from your body. He doesn’t immediately take off your bra like he usually does, and instead focusing first on slipping his fingers underneath the band, thumbs glossing over your hardened nipples as he applies wet kisses on your nape. You almost let out a sob when his hand travels south, raking his fingers against your stomach before he takes off your skirt in such a hurry, leaving you in nothing but your black stockings and your laced panties.

Your entire body jolts when he slips a hand between your legs, rubbing you over your underwear before he suddenly pushes the fabric down and runs his fingertips along your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he whispers in your ear, his breath fanning your neck. “I’m surprised you like being treated like this.” But when you cry out his name, begging for him to stop teasing you already, he chuckles lowly. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

You’re sure that you’re just reacting this way because it’s him and not anybody else and you want to tell him that but you can barely form a word with him rubbing his fingertips along your clit. “You’re actually quite dirty, aren’t you?” He brings two of his fingers to your lips, forcing you to suck them into your mouth and you oblige, knowing what he’s intending to do. You coat them with as much saliva as you can before he brings his hand down to your heat again, this time inserting one finger into your entrance with another one following soon after.

You hiss his name under your breath, becoming a little lightheaded from all this sensation you’re having at once. “What do you want me to do?” He asks tauntingly, knowing he’s in charge of everything.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, eyes tightly shut at the feeling of him finger fucking you to oblivion. “I want you inside me, Hyuck, fuck.”

“Maybe in a few minutes.” His teasing tone is back but it’s different. It’s almost menacing this time, somewhat heartless. He picks up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you until you find yourself biting your lip to contain your sob. “Do you know what I want?” He carves his words against your skin, taking a handful of your hair with his other free hand and yanking it back so you can’t help but face the ceiling. His lips are hovering dangerously close against your ear. “I want to fuck you raw. We’ve never done that before, have we? I want to come inside you—want to see my cum dripping down your thighs when I’m finished with you.”

Fuck. You almost cry from the temptation. “Then do it. I don’t care just—” You arch your back, sinking yourself down to his fingers, moaning against the side of his neck. “Please, just fuck me, Hyuck.”

“Good girl,” he replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice but you don’t care. He can be as cocky as he wants for the night because you secretly like it. You like how confident he is during sex, how passionate and sexy he can get, and how desperate and uncontrolled he becomes at the end. You can feel your stomach flip at the anticipation, especially when you hear him working on his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down only low enough for him to free himself.

“Let me fuck your mouth first,” he demands and you find yourself succumbing to his orders, turning around to face him before you drop to your knees, the tip of his cock protruding against your lips.

Haechan is still holding himself back, you’re sure, because he lets you take your own pace at first but his dominating persona comes back almost immediately when you only give him tentative licks against his slit. “Open up,” he orders, his fingers finding home in your hair and you loosen up your jaw to take him deeper.

Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes from how hard he’s hitting the back of your throat but you try to keep up. He moves his hips, enjoying the warmth of your mouth. When you feel him twisting his fingers around the strands of your hair, you look up to see his expression. Haechan has his head thrown back in pleasure, his lips parted in a silent moan and you hum proudly to yourself when he brings his eyes down to meet yours. They’re glazed with lust and he’s so sexy like this with his breathing ragged, soft moans flowing like music to your ears. And he’s probably feeling the same about you, from the way he pushes the bangs out of your eyes, taking every detail of your face as you hollow your cheeks, swallowing when his taste falls upon your tongue.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, “You look so perfect like this. You’re so fucking sexy, do you know that?” You hum, running your tongue along the prominent vein, giving kitten licks around the tip. Something gleams in his eyes and suddenly he commands you to stand up and pushes your body against the wall again, face first.

“Do you know how excited I was for today?” He grabs you by the waist, pushing his palm against your shoulder blades so you’ll bend lower, and positions himself against your entrance from behind. “I wanted to celebrate my birthday with you—just with you, Noona—even after our fight, I still wanted to spend it with you—”

“I know,” you gasp, thighs trembling when he rubs his tip against your folds. “I’m sorry—I was too busy with—“

“With work?” He taunts, “Or with that guy you’ve been seeing?”

“No—” A sudden yelp flows out of your mouth when he abruptly pushes himself entirely inside of you in one quick motion, his nails digging into the skin of your hips. Haechan moans a tad louder, much breathier, with his eyebrows knitted together in ecstasy. He’s more sensitive now since he’s not using a condom, directly feeling how wet and hot you are around him, how every clench makes him lose his mind and you can feel him twitching inside you. “Haechan—wait—”

He thrusts forward with such brute force, you find yourself pressed against the door. The dorm is quiet and with the way he’s slamming his hips against yours, the door making rhythmic banging noises against its frames, you’re sure you’re going to be noticed sooner or later.

“The bed—” You gasp, searching for the hands he has on your hips. “Let’s move to the bed—”

“Later,” he groans, his mind sinking in the way your heat is enveloping him.

“People can—” You have your eyes tightly shut when his thrusts get stronger. “They can hear us, Hyuck—”

He tangles his hand around your locks, making a messy ponytail out of them so he can yank on your hair as he rocks his hips faster. “I don’t fucking care,” he growls, “Let everyone know you’re mine.”

It feels fucking amazing the way he’s all breathless and rough, fucking you senselessly as if the world is ending, and it’s not long before your legs start to give up on you, quivering under the sensation.

“Fuck,” Haechan takes a sharp intake of breath, pulling you back against him when you’re about to fall. “Tired already, babe?” His chuckles are unfamiliar to your ears, as if he was mocking instead of teasing but you can’t really comment on it because he’s now pushing you down to the floor, forcing you to stay on all fours. “Now, now, what do we do?” He asks, spreading your thighs but holds your ass firmly in the air. “I’m just getting started.”

Every thrust of his hip feels like fire running all over your body and you can’t believe how good he is at hitting that particular spot deep inside you. You bite your lower lip to keep your voice down and Haechan notices it so he leans close, his chest pressing against your spine and you feel his lips and teeth caressing the crook of your neck as he speaks.

“Stop holding back your voice.” His voice sounds sultry, almost sinful to your ears. “I’ve told you before, right? I like hearing you say my name when we do this. Let me hear you moan.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want anyone to hear—“

“Well,” he doesn’t even let you finish. “I guess I’ll just have to force it out of you then.”

He slows down his pace, and instead of giving you fast, shallow thrusts, he focuses his strength on making each thrust hard and deep. You can feel your breathing being knocked out of your lungs, your toes curling in pleasure and if he keeps doing this, you know you’re not gonna last long. Your orgasm hits you so hard, a whimper falling from your mouth the way he likes it, and your body begins to shake.

Haechan laughs quietly against your ear. “You came, didn’t you? It feels so good—you feel so good around my cock.” He grabs you by the chin and roughly angles your head to face him. He kisses you hard, leaving you even more breathless than you already are before he says, “It’s my turn now.”

Haechan flips you to your back, spreading your legs wide as he sits on his knees, holding your ankles in the air like how he did the first time you had sex with him. Maybe it’s his favorite position, almost splitting your body in half, and seeing your face and your breasts bouncing up and down with every movement of his hips. You’re still dazed, reeling in the afterglow when Haechan pushes back into you again without warning, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, his lips parted forming your name between his breathy moans.

“I’ll never get tired of how you look when I fuck you like this,” he says, smirking in the sexiest way you’ve ever seen him do. “You’re so goddamn irresistible, you know that?”

It’s frightening how different and rough he’s being right now, and you’re about to cry out because you miss him—you miss the way he used to be. The adorable, annoying little tease that he was. How can you bring him back?

“Haechannie,” you call out, voice soft and quiet almost in a whisper. “I love you.”

His movement stops almost immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. He locks his gaze back with yours, his grip on your legs becoming loose. “What?”

“I love you,” you repeat, placing your legs down so you can sit up from your position. Your back feels sore, screaming in pain but you try not to wince. You reach out to grab his face, running your thumb along his lower lip. “I love you, Lee Donghyuck.” You kiss him gently, merely pressing your lips against his and you can feel how his body stiffen under your touch. “So calm down, because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you, as long as you let me.”

Haechan is still very much speechless and you decide to take control. You carefully push him down so he can sit back on the floor before you climb into his lap. You kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair before you slide down, enveloping him once again. There’s a small moan escaping his lips, which you immediately capture with your own and his hands find their way back to your hips again.

“That’s not fair,” he says, his cheeks reddening slightly though he’s still scowling at you. “You’re just saying that so I won’t be angry with you anymore.”

“That too, but,” you’re interrupted by a moan that departs from your lips, can barely handle the way he twitches inside you. “I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time now. Especially when we fight. I just missed you so much, I couldn’t stand it.”

His pout is growing back on his face, though not as apparent. “Well, whose fault do you think is that?” It’s perfect, the way he moves inside you and it’s driving him crazy whenever you clench your walls around him.

“There’s nothing between me and Jaehyun, I promise you,” you softly murmur as you place open-mouthed kisses down his neck. “I’d never cheat on you, Hyuck. You know that, right?”

He shivers slightly under your touch, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Still,” he breathes out, “It doesn’t mean I’m fine with you meeting him behind my back.”

“He’s my boss, I wouldn’t be able to avoid him even if I wanted—” You have to end your sentence short when he rubs his thumb against your clit, reeling in the sensation. “Hyuck, you’re going to make me come again at this rate.”

“Good, because I intend to make you come at least three times tonight.” He snickers against your lips. “So you won’t be able to forget who owns you.”

His movements become sloppy, going out of rhythm, even more desperate with each thrust and when you whisper with his earlobe between your teeth, “Happy birthday, baby,” he comes undone almost immediately with his face hiding between the slope of your neck.

He lays you down to the floor again, gently this time, before he hovers above you, his arms shaking slightly. “Holy shit,” he exhales, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming on his temple. “I think I came a lot inside you.”

“Glad I’m taking some pills then,” you reply, smiling a little as you cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the mole under his left eye. “You okay?”

“Are you okay?” He asks instead. “Was I too rough? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“Why is it that whenever we have sex, you end up asking me these questions?” You chuckle. “Yes, you were. And yes, I am hurt. My back is killing me.”

“I’m…” There’s a slight panic flitting across his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was kinda hot seeing you all riled up like that. It’s like you turned into a completely different person.” You pull him down by his necklace, murmuring against his lips, “I won’t mind if you fuck me like that again sometimes.”

It’s funny that after all of this that just happened, he actually blushes over your words. Quietly cursing under his breath, he leans back on his heels, slowly pulling out of you and stare intently at how his cum starts to seep out of you.

“Goddamn…” he mumbles, eyes unblinking as if he’s in a trance. “I really did come a lot inside you.”

“Consider that your birthday gift. Also, can you stop looking at me like that—it’s embarrassing.” You don’t usually get embarrassed about sexual stuff, especially now that your boyfriend’s shamelessness kind of rubs off on you, but Haechan really knows how to push your buttons.

Seeing you fidget out of shame, Haechan’s eyes twinkle, his lips forming a teasing grin. “No, wait, let me clean you up.” Despite what he says, he slowly pushes one finger into you, with another one following right after and you part your lips in a gasp but loss for words when you see him playing with his cum that’s mixed with yours, smearing it on the inside parts of your thigh.

“Haechannie,” you gasp, feeling his fingers inside you once again, with his thumb rubbing over your clit. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grins, showcasing his perfect teeth. “I’m going to make you come again. And then you’re going to make me come again.” His face hovers above yours, wetting his bottom lip as he stares lustfully at you. “Since it’s my birthday and you’re obliged to do whatever I want.”

You gulp. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow.

***

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Laundry Wars

Pairing: college!Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: enemies to lovers! you can’t stand the boy who keeps stealing your dryer

Masterlist

Peter walked into the laundry room once his timer had gone off, signaling that his wash was ready. After emptying his wet clothes into his hamper, he stood in front of the dryers and sighed. Surprisingly, 10 dryers were not enough for the 800 students in the dorm building to use. And with three always broken, it was nearly impossible to get a dryer. That led to air drying, which led to a fun little mildew smell, which drove Peter crazy.

This time, Peter noticed a dryer was done, but still full of clothes. He looked around the laundry room and found no one, and that’s when he decided to be a bit of a dick. He knew it wasn’t nice to take people’s clothes out of the dryer, but he was desperate. He had a class in 10 minutes and didn’t have time to wait for a dryer. He gave the room one last look around before crouching down in front of the dryer and taking out the clothes. They were girl clothes, from the looks of it, and he blushed a little when pulling a bra out of the dryer. He left the clothes in a pile on top of a washing machine before putting his own clothes inside and leaving.

The laundry room was empty when Peter returned two hours later. He noticed that the pile of clothes he had taken out was missing, and felt a pang of guilt for that. Knowing there was nothing he could do about that now, he set his hamper down and bent down in front of his dryer. He was greeted with a sticky note that he could only assume was left by the last user of the dryer that read:

“Fuck you :)”

Peter chuckled at the note and tucked it into his pocket before gathering his warm clothes.

The next week, the same thing happened. The dryer was done but the owner of the clothes was nowhere to be found. As Peter was emptying the clothes out of the dryer, he recognized the same pillow case from the last time he took out the clothes. He chuckled slightly as he remembered the note that had been left for him, assuming the person who’s dryer he was taking would be leaving a similar one once they came down to collect their things.

Just as Peter was adjusting the settings on the dryer, he heard a hamper drop on the ground behind him.

“So you’re the one who’s been taking my dryer.”

Peter turned around slowly, caught red handed in stealing your dryer. When he caught sight of you and your unamused smirk, his face heated up in embarrassment. You had your arms crossed and your hip cocked to the side, and your face told him that you were pissed off. Angry girls were scary enough, but angry pretty girls made the hair on the back on Peters neck stand up.

He wasn’t expected to be caught taking your dryer, but he definitely wasn’t expecting you to be the most gorgeous girl he had ever seem.

“I only took it because you didn’t get your stuff out in time.” Peter said calmly. “People are waiting, you know.”

“My timer just went off and it took me less than a minute it get down here.” You held up your phone to show him your timer. “You didn’t need to take out my stuff.”

“I’ve been waiting for over 15 minutes and this stuff can’t air dry.” Peter shrugged. “Your dryer was done and I needed it, so I took your stuff out.”

“Aw, could the little baby not wait his turn?” You pouted as you mocked him. Peter’s jaw dropped a little when your lashed your sharp tongue at him.

“I did wait my turn.” He insisted. “You were late.”

“By less than a minute.” You snapped.

“Sucks to suck.” Peter shrugged, gulping nervously when your face shifted to a look of shock.

“I bet you wouldn’t know.” You shot back, letting your eyes flicker to his crotch to drive your point.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter squinted at you as you insulted his manhood.

“It means stop taking my dryer.” You snapped before sashaying out of the laundry room. Peter stood there for a moment, shellshocked from the interaction. One the one hand, the prettiest girl in his college hated him. On the other hand, the prettiest girl in his college hated him. Peter knew engaging in a battle of the dryers with you wouldn’t end well, but he also knew the middle part was going to be super fun.

You took the elevator down to the laundry room the following Wednesday after your alarm had gone off. You had managed to get a lot of homework done while you waited for your dryer, so you were in a relatively good mood. That mood quickly faded as you entered the room and saw a familiar brown haired boy crouching in front of your dryer. Your eyes shifted to the right, where you saw a pile of your clothes sitting on a washing machine.

“Don’t even tell me.”

“Hey.” Peter turned around and waved weakly at you. “Nice to see you again.”

“You seriously took my stuff out of my dryer again?” You grunted as you went over to your pile of clothes. You began to put the clothes into your hamper and immediately felt something you didn’t like.

“Oh my God.” He heard you groan from behind him.

“What?” He looked over his shoulder to ask you.

“My underwear is wet thanks to you, that’s what.” You spat as you angrily dropped your underwear back into your hamper.

“Excuse me?” Peter sputtered.

“My clothes aren’t fully dry.” You repeated as you threw your underwear at him at full speed. It hit him in the chest and he instinctively caught it, blushing a little when he realized what he was holding.

“You feel that? That’s wet. My stuff should still be in there.” You angrily pointed at your dryer, which was now full of Peters clothes.

“Well your cycle was done.” Peter defended himself. “I didn’t know it was still wet.”

“You would have known had you waited the 40 seconds it took me to get down here.” You grumbled.

“Maybe you should’ve gotten down here before your cycle was up so you could check if it was done or not.” Peter matched your angry tone and you let out a sharp laugh.

“I’m sorry, did I miss the town hall meeting on when to check your fucking dryer?” You shot back.

“Ooo. Potty mouth. Real classy.” Peter taunted you. You raised your eyebrows and grabbed your hamper, never breaking eye contact with him as you walked up to him.

“Choke.” You whispered in his face as you grabbed your panties from him. Peter shivered as your fingers brushed, making you smirk at him before you waltzed out of the room.

“Bye.” Peter squeaked out, but you were already gone.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You groaned as you entered the laundry room the following week and saw your clothes in a pile on top of a washing machine.

“Your cycle was-“

“Don’t you talk to me about my cycle.” You cut Peter off as you stormed over to your clothes.

“I needed a dryer.” Peter shrugged. “Your dryer was done.”

“yOuR dRyEr wAs dOne.” You mimicked his voice as you put your clothes in your hamper.

“Wow.” Peter nodded. “Real mature.”

“I’ll show you mature.” You chuckled angrily. “Next time you take my stuff out of the dryer, I’m gonna come down here and shit in your laundry.”

Peters jaw dropped a little and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m kidding, Jesus Christ.” You scoffed at him. “Just don’t do it again or I’ll tell the RA you have a microwave in your room. No heat products or you’re kicked out.”

“If you came down on time, I wouldn’t have to take your stuff out.” Peter reminded you, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement when you looked at him.

“I did come down on time.” You grouched. “The elevators take a little longer to come down sometimes. I get here when I get here. You can wait.”

“Not if I have a zoom class.” He said.

“Not if I have a zoom class.” You mimicked him again in a high pitched voice.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Peter told you. “You could try treating people with kindness. We might be friends if you did.”

Your jaw dropped and Peters chest tightened as you walked up to him.

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I was dying and your friendship was the antidote.” You grumbled.

“That’s a bit dramatic.” Peter said with a smug smirk, only making you angrier.

“You want dramatic?” You smiled sweetly at him. “How about this? The next time I see you, it better be because I opened a newspaper and saw your obituary.”

“You want me dead because I stole your dryer a few times?” Peter forced a laugh. “That’s a little extreme.”

“Not as extreme as me shitting in your laundry.” You patted his cheek before walking towards the exit. Peter was once again frozen from the physical contact and stood there like a statue as he watched you leave.

“That’s a weird threat.” Peter called out once he regained composure, but you were too far away to hear.

“Look who set a timer.” Peter smiled as he came into the laundry room one week to find you taking your clothes out of a dryer.

“Look who could not be more obnoxious if he tried.” You said sarcastically as you stood up.

“Aw, there’s that attitude.” Peter teased you. “Did you miss me?”

“The only time I miss a boy is when I swing at him and he ducks.” You snapped, finally turning around to face him.

“That’s not very nice.” Peter pouted as he began to transfer his clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. “Do you ever wonder how we always end up doing laundry on the same day?”

“No. I don’t think about you.” You scoffed as you set your hamper down and began to fold your clothes. You normally didn’t fold your clothes in the laundry room, but you wanted to continue talking to Peter. You jumped a little when you felt Peter come up behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“Don’t you?” He mumbled, lips almost touching the skin of your shoulder.

“Fuck off.” You whipped around you pushed him slightly. “You can dry your untouched little boy boxers in a minute.”

“Do you have a problem with me?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Have I offended you somehow?”

“Your existence offends me.” You retorted.

“Aw, why is that?” Peter tilted his head.

“Because you took my stuff out of the dryer and made it smell like mildew.”

“Wow.” Peter pretended to wipe tears form his eyes. “Sad for you.”

“Take your damn dryer and leave me alone.” You hissed at him as you collected your hamper. “Get a life while you’re at it.”

“I’ll get a life once you get a-“

“Don’t say it.” You barked. Peter shrugged, deciding to really push your buttons today.

“Get a-“

“Don’t.” You warned him.

“A-“

“Shut up.”

“Get a timer.” Peter whispered before dashing out of the room.

The next week, things were a little different. Instead of engaging in a battle over the dryers, you and Peter found yourselves doing laundry at the same time. You saw him pouring his detergent into a cup to measure it and scoffed as you took the washing machine across from him. He looked at you and gave you a pointed look and you just rolled your eyes at him. You kept your eyes down and focused on the task at hand, feeling Peters eyes staring you down the entire time.

“What are you looking at?” You sneered at Peter as you made eye contact across the washing machines for the fourth time.

“I’m just looking up.” Peter said innocently. “You happen to be in my eye line, is all.”

“Well start looking down before I come over there and make you.” You warned him.

“Make me what? Look down?” He questioned. “I don’t see how you could do that without physical force.”

“Oh there will definitely be physical force.” You promised him.

“Is that a threat? Do I need to call the RA?” Peter said just to annoyed you, which worked.

“God, you are so annoying!” You yelled at him. “Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, and don’t take my stuff out of the dryer.”

“I wouldn’t have to-“

“I get it.” You cut him off. “You want me to set a timer, and I want you to drop dead. We both have goals.”

“Are you this rude to everyone or just me?” Peter leaned on his washing machine to ask.

“Just you.” You smiled sarcastically at him before storming out of the room.

A few hours later, Peter returned to the laundry room to collect his now dried clothes. He still had a few minutes until his cycle was done, so he leaned his back against it and took out his phone. Within a few seconds, he heard footsteps, followed by a sigh.

“So we meet again.” Peter smiled cheekily at you as you entered the laundry room. You rolled your eyes at him and went directly to your dryer.

“We washed our loads at the same time.” You said dully. “Obviously they were going to finish at the same time. Don’t act so surprised.”

“Ew. Don’t call them loads.” Peter grimaced.

“You have a problem with loads?” You cocked your head. “Loads.”

“Stop saying loads.” Peter repeated.

“I’m talking about laundry.” You said innocently. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“You put it there.” Peter defended. “You knew what you were doing.”

“I always know what I’m doing.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Clearly you don’t, since you decided to engage in a war with me.”

“Oh yeah? What, am I on your bad side now? Do I not want to see you when you’re angry?” Peter laughed meanly as he teased you.

“I’m just saying, I know where your laundry is.” You folded your arms and shrugged. “I also know where the bleach is.”

“I thought you were going to shit in it.” Peter smirked.

“I knew you thought that was funny.” You cracked a smile at him, the first one he’d seem from you. “I live rent free in your brain, don’t I?”

“No.” Peter said quickly as his face turned red.

“Really? Because I think I do.” You stepped closer to him and walked your fingers up his chest. “I bet you think about the girl you keep running into in the laundry room when you’re trying to focus on class. I bet you hope I’m down here every time you come to wash your clothes. And I bet you take my stuff out just to have an excuse to talk to me. I bet you’re obsessed with me.” You smiled in his face, noses almost rubbing.

“I am not.” He stammered. “You just take too long to take your stuff out.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head. “So when you’re on Zoom, bored out of your mind because I know you’re not studying anything interesting, I don’t cross your mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.” You said in a sing song voice.

“You don’t believe me or you’re upset with my answer?” Peter took a step towards you, giving himself the upper hand.

“Why would I be upset that a little creep like you wasn’t thinking about me?” You scoffed. “I don’t want you to think about me.”

“I think you do.” Peter poked your chest, making you back up. You slowly walked backwards as Peter gained on you. “I think you’re hoping, begging, praying that you cross my mind every now and then. Since I obviously run around yours like it’s my day job.”

“You wish I thought about you.” You taunted as you back hit the wall.

“I know you do.” Peter whispered as he leaned over you.

“No, I don’t.” You gulped. “You wish I thought about you.”

“You do realize how childish this argument is, right?”

“It’s hard to have an intelligent conversation with an actual child.” You smiled innocently at him.

“I’m worlds more mature than you.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee it.”

“Oh, please.” You laughed. “You’re an impatient little baby who never learned to wait his turn. I bet you’ve never worked a day in your life.”

“Oh yes I have.” Peter back away from you and folded his arms. “I’ve had a job since I was 15. If you knew half the things I’ve done, you’d be falling at my feet, begging for forgiveness.”

“What have you done?” You scoffed. “Besides consistently piss me off.”

“I can’t tell you.” Peter chewed his lip, realizing he backed himself into a metaphorical corner.

“You can’t tell me?” You feigned a gasp. “Could it be because this job doesn’t exist?”

“It does exist.” Peter insisted. “It’s just not something you would understand.”

“Aw, my tiny woman brain can’t handle your really super important, manly man job? You should hear yourself.” You mocked him.

“That’s not what I meant.” Peter sighed. “I mean it’s hard to explain.”

“We have 8 minutes until our loads are done.” You gestured to the dryers. “Take all the time you need.”

“I-I can’t.” Peter stammered. He was growing more frustrated as he couldn’t explain to you what his job was, as if you’d ever believe him anyway.

“Uh huh.” You patted his chest and moved past him. “Well when you get a chance to Google it and come up with something, let me know.”

“I don’t have to Google it. I have a real job.” Peter called after you as you went back to your dryer. He was more than angry now with your dismissive attitude.

“I’m sure you do.” You said sarcastically as you took your clothes out early. “Being a dick head isn’t a job, you know. Not a paying one at least.”

You walked over to the garage to empty out your lint trap, and Peter decided he had enough. He shot a web at your hip and pulled it, making you twirl across the room and stumble into his arms.

“What in the holy fuck-“ You looked at the web in disbelief as Peter caught you by the waist.

“I have a job.” Peter repeated. “A really, super important, manly man job, or whatever you want to call it.”

To Peters surprised, you were less than impressed. In fact, you looked a little terrified. You slipped out of Peters embrace like he was made of thorns and pushed him away from you.

“Stay away from me.” Your voice shook as you grabbed your hamper. “I mean it.”

You ran out of the room like you were scared for your life, leaving Peter dumbfounded as his dryer went off.

“Well that didn’t go well.”

Peter didn’t see you in the laundry room for the next few weeks. He got the feeling you were avoided him, and that left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. The stress and anxiety of knowing you were scared of him, as well as knowing you knew his secret and were nowhere to be found manifested in a large pimple on his chin. It was the painful kind that was under the surface of the skin, and Peter felt like it was exactly what he deserved.

Three weeks since the incident in the laundry room, yours and Peters dorm building had an emergency evacuation late one night. Disgruntled students in their pajamas and blankets shuffled out of the building in huge masses as sirens went off. Peter heard rumors of a broken elevator as he desperately searched the crowd for you.

You ended up by the stairwell in a thin shirt and pajama shorts, deeply regretted your choice of pajamas as the cold New York air chilled you. You were rubbing your arms to keep yourself warm when you suddenly felt a blanket being draped over your shoulders. You looked up and saw Peter, who was looking away from you.

“Nice chin zit.” You commented as you pulled the blanket tightly around your shoulders. You had been hesitant to see him since the incident, but you were desperate to keep warm. Peter didn’t respond and continued looking off in the distance with a forlorn look on his face.

“So you’re just gonna wrap a blanket around me and say anything?” You scoffed. “Who are you, Boo Radley at the end of To Kill A Mockingbird?”

“You told me not to talk to you.” Peter said calmly. “Also, you didn’t have to specify what book Boo Radley is from. I’m pretty sure everyone had to read that book.”

“I wasn’t clarifying the book, I was clarifying what part of the book.” You narrowed your eyes at him and looked away. Once you had broken eye contact, you tugged the blanket tighter around yourself to keep warm.

“Wait, that wasn’t at the end.” Peter realized. “He put a blanket around Scout when the neighbors house burned down and they were all outside at night. The ending was when he killed a Bob Ewell.”

“I’m walking away now.” You began to walk away as he described the entire ending of To Kill A Mockingbird.

“Wait.” Peter gently grabbed your arm. “Can we talk about what happened between us?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said quickly and tried to leave again. Peter caught up to you and stood in front of you so you couldn’t leave.

“I think you do. And I need to know you won’t tell other people about what I’m talking about.” He said quietly, looking around for any witnesses.

“Why would I tell anyone?” You asked him. “I don’t even care.”

“You reacted like you care.” He pointed out and then quieted down. “Why did you react like that?”

“Like what?” You wondered why he was acting so strange.

“You ran away.” He stated, hurt evident in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and shrugged.

“I don’t know.” You said. “You’re a freak who can shoot webs from his wrist. What was I supposed to do?”

“Were you scared of me?” He asked softly, searching your eyes for answers.

“Look, I told you to stay away from me.” You spat. “Just respect what I asked.”

You walked away again but Peter followed.

“Wait.” Peter caught up to you. “I want to talk to you.”

“Why?” You whined. “You don’t even know my name. We’re not friends. We just see each other in the laundry room sometimes. Just leave me alone.”

“I’m Peter.” Peter blurted out, making any attempt he could to get you to stay.

“What?”

“Peter Parker.” He reiterated. “I’m a biomedical engineering major with a minor in chemistry.”

“Okay nerd.” You snorted. “What do you want me to do about that?”

“Tell me who you are.” He asked shyly.

“Why?” You asked him. “Why do you want to know?”

“So we can become friends.” He said like it was obvious. “I kinda told you my biggest secret and I’m starting to freak out a little.”

“That was your call.” You reminded him. “I didn’t make you tell me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but immediately shut it. His eyes glassed over and his face flushed, not from your presence, but from anxiety. You noticed the shift in his body language and felt a pang of guilt.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You admitted. “I’m a Human Services major. I’m trying to become a social worker and I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

“Are you scared of me, Y/n?” Peter used your name for the first time. He still needed his question from earlier to be answered so he could rest easy.

“No.” You said softly. “I’m not scared. I just don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Peter asked as he moved closer to you.

“How the superhero I’ve been crushing on for years is the obnoxious little brat I fight with in the laundry room.” You laughed a little in disbelief as your face heated up. Peter’s eyes widened at your confession and turned away so you wouldn’t see his excitement.

“You have a crush on me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Relax.” You snarked. “I have a crush on Spiderman. Spider-Man doesn’t steal my dryer.”

“I hate to break it to you, but he does.” Peter said sheepishly. He was making good progress with you and he didn’t want it to stop.

“I don’t like this plot twist.” You shook your head. “How can I hate you but love Spider-Man?”

“Maybe you can stop hating me.” Peter suggested.

“Nah.” You smiled tightly at him. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Maybe I can change your mind.” Peter smiled coyly. “And by the way, I’m not exactly in love with you either.”

“Aren’t you?” You tilted your head and gave him your best smile.

“We’re not doing this again.” Peter groaned and shook his head.

“Chicken.” You snorted.

“I have a feeling this is gonna be a while.” Peter said as he looked around. “We could go somewhere and continue this conversation. Do you want to grab coffee?”

“It’s 10:45 and I have an 8 am tomorrow. I’m not drinking coffee right now.” You said flatly.

“Oh, okay.” Peter nodded sadly as you rejected his invitation. You smiled softly at him and rolled your eyes before taking his hand.

“Come on.” You tugged him towards the sidewalk. “Let’s go get hot chocolate.”

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