#in an elevator politely wishes to go home

[onlyzhuyilong]

[kingkatsuki]

— when he catches you crying

Masterlist.

Warnings: none (although not proofread soz.)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.8k.

There were some days where being Dynamight’s secretary weren’t always perfect. Thousands of people online wished they could be where you are right now, a position that had you working closely with the number two hero, and of course you were thankful. But some days you just wished time would speed up and you could go home and climb into bed. Daydreaming about having some sort of time-changing quirk so you wouldn’t have to put up with those terrible work days, and instead speed through them.

Being the number two hero meant that he was constantly in demand. Whether it was companies trying to get ahold of him for collaborations, agencies hoping to get Dynamight to team up on missions, brand ambassadors trying to send him a slew of freebies from clothing to charcuterie boards or the media hoping to get the first scoop the phone was constantly ringing off the hook.

Luckily for you most of these calls were intercepted lower down, the Dynamight PR team were always quick to filter out the quality calls and give courteous, personalised responses each time. But that didn’t mean the ones that finally managed to reach your floor, his floor, were any kinder. Having a timed appointment call with the Pro didn’t actually mean you’d manage to get him on the line, as most people in the industry had now leaned Dynamight worked on his schedule, no one else’s. And most of the time callers were sympathetic to you, but not always.

You’d had to apologise to a brand for Dynamight being unavailable at the appointed time, a last minute meeting with Pro-Hero Hawks meant that he was now stuck inside his office for the foreseeable. Something that you knew irked Bakugou to no end, knowing he’d probably rather take this mundane call than spend more than five minutes alone with the feathered hero. But work was work, and while he was being supposedly tortured inside, you were now subject to a slew of insults on the phone with the head of the company.

Usually you’d just hang up at this point, the insults you faced not worth whatever price they were willing to pay for Dynamight’s face on their posters. But you were already having a bad day, and the words came hard and fast. No matter how polite you tried to be, they cut deep. Feeling your throat begin to tighten as pearly tears clung to your lash line, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You slammed the phone down in irritation as you pushed the chair back from your desk, leaving without another thought as you went to compose yourself in the bathroom.

It wasn’t long after that Bakugou stepped out of his office, noticing the disappointed look on Hawks face when he’d moved directly towards your desk to bid you a farewell (and probably flirt with you for the next fifteen minutes, Bakugou supposed), and noticed you were no longer there.

The phone sat ringing unanswered and you always told him when you were going on lunch or leaving the floor, even if it was just a sweet little email. Rolling his eyes at Hawks teasing when he noticed Bakugou’s expression diminish slightly too as he stepped into the elevator.

“That’s a shame, I was hoping to take her to lunch after our little meeting,” Hawks grinned, “Tell her I said goodbye, yeah?”

Fucking prick. Bakugou seethed as he went towards the end of the hall to ask one of your co-workers where you’d gone, hearing that you’d had a pretty shitty phone call and you’d made your way to the women’s bathrooms on the floor below.

Ignoring his schedule, he made his way towards the stairs. Retracing your footsteps as he found the door to the ladies restrooms and ignored the writing on the front as he shoved it open to step inside. Thankful that it seemed to be empty, aside from the muffled sobs coming from one of the stalls. A sound that seemingly quietened as the door opened, clearly trying to hide yourself away from anyone listening to you.

“Hey,” Bakugou knocked on the door lightly as he leaned against the door, his signature boots visible to you beneath as your eyes widened in surprise that your boss had found you like this, in the women’s bathroom no less.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” You sniffled, dabbing the paper tissue against your wet cheeks, “It’s the womens—”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended, the sound had fresh tears welling in your eyes as you thought you’d upset him even more by leaving your desk unmanned.

“I’ll be back up in a sec, I’m sorry for leaving the phone ringing I’ll—” Your throat was hoarse as you rambled your apologies to him, the guilt swirling in your abdomen as you tried to blink back the pearly wet tears.

“Stop it, that ain’t why I’m here.” He scoffed, “Just open the door.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes, I’ll see you back in the office.” You were certain you probably looked awful. Your mascara was definitely lined down your cheeks if the darkened tissue was anything to go by, and your eyes were surely red.

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He continued, “I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” You mumbled.

“Don’t lie to me,” He whispered, “I wanna know what’s got my secretary sobbin’ in the toilet before midday.”

“It’s nothing, honestly.” You didn’t even know how to tell him that a random stranger on the phone made you cry, especially when you should’ve been thicker skinned working below the number two.

“I could get forty grievances against me for this, you know. Dynamight in the fuckin’ ladies.” Bakugou smiled slightly as you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh on the other side, “So I think you can tell me what’s wrong.”

You were silent inside the stall as Bakugou lay the side of his head against the door, trying to listen to you as he tried one final time to get you to come out.

“Was it me?” He mumbled, and you felt your stomach drop that he could even think it was something he’d done.

“No!” You retorted swiftly.

“So what was it?” He continued.

You weren’t even sure what to tell him, you’d cried over a stupid clothing brand, or whatever it was he was trying to sell. You should be stronger as Dynamight’s secretary, have thicker skin, not cry over any random stranger that’s mean to you on the phone.

“Come on, sweetheart. Please?” He murmured gruffly, “I know people think I’m a fuckin’ asshole but I ain’t about to leave without checkin’ on you. Let me see that you’re alright and I’ll leave you alone, yeah?”

You hated the way your body reacted to him, even like this he had your heart pounding against your ribcage as you sniffled, wiping your cheeks a final time as you moved to open the door.

Bakugou was leaning against the doorframe casually as worried crimson eyes looked down at you, his brows were still furrowed deeply as though he was irritated at you and this made fresh tears well in your eyes as you tried to look to the ground.

“‘m sorry.” Your bottom lip trembled as you felt the hot tears begin to stream down your face again, but what happened next shocked you even more.

“C’mere, shitty woman.” Bakugou’s forearm reached up to circle around your neck, bringing your entire frame against his as he pressed your face into his chest. The comforting touch had your tears freely flowing as you soaked the soft, probably expensive, fabric of his shirt. But he didn’t seem to care, his other hand still buried inside his pants pocket as he held you steady against him, eventually resting his chin on the top of your head as he let you cry.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He hummed, “Let it all out.”

Bakugou knew what it was like to cry alone, the isolation and the ache it caused as his chest heaved and throat tightened. The sheer number of times he’d wished someone was there for him, to pat his back and tell him it would be okay, and seeing the woman he was so desperately in love with the same way, hurt.

And you let yourself cry, the tears immediately soaking into him as the damp material of his shirt stuck to your cheeks, the scent of him comforting as you sniffed to try and inhale every part of it. Letting yourself melt into him as he swayed slightly while you cried into his chest in the bathroom.

Once the tears stopped falling you pulled back with bleary eyes, your head throbbing slightly from the length of time you’d been crying as he gave you a lazy, close lipped smile.

“There she is,” He murmured, resisting the urge to reach up with calloused thumbs and wipe the final few tears away, “Can’t believe you got me in the girls bathroom.”

You felt guilty at that, knowing that he was supposed to be taking a phonecall from Pro-Hero Deku right now before he went into his afternoon patrol.

“Take the rest of the day,” He cut you off before you’d even had a moment to utter your first objection, your mouth still agape as you readied to speak, “I ain’t taking no for an answer, grab your shit and get out.”

He sounded harsh, but you could hear the softness to his voice as he stepped away from you, grimacing when you noticed your makeup staining his shirt as he moved to leave the bathrooms.

“And you get me personally if that fucker ever calls back again, yeah?”

What he’d really wanted to say was, he’d take every single grievance he got for this just to make sure that you were okay, because you were more important than any of that.

“Thanks, Dynamight.” You mumbled, watching him leave the ladies restroom as you stepped towards the sinks to clean your face. Grimacing when you caught sight of just how awful you looked when you met your reflection in the mirror.

What you didn’t know was that same afternoon, Bakugou got a call from the same company that had berated you and made you cry. Leaning back in his chair as he listened to the man ramble on the phone about how excited they’d be to work with a Hero such as Dynamight, and the plans they had in mind. But Bakugou told them he’d never work for them, and he would ensure every hero in the top twenty would do the same. Because no amount of money was worth it after he’d seen you cry.

[wp-blaze]

“The Fragmented Elegance of Life”

Introduction In the kaleidoscopic realm of Cubist artistry, we encounter an extraordinary array of fragmented beauty and emotional depth. Through the prism of Cubism, these three artistic masterpieces offer us a glimpse into the complexities of human experience and perception. Each painting, resplendent in 4K HDR, reveals a unique narrative, inviting us to explore the […]

[kscheibles]

let me come home (illicit affairs part i)

content warnings: f! reader, angst, fluff, smut, sex toys, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex m receiving, oral sex f receiving, drug mentions (weed and ecstasy)

word count: 3.7k

Your sneakers squeak on the pristine tile floor of the hotel lobby as you hurry to the elevator. With your hoodie over your head, you look down at your phone.

“1221” says the most recent text. You whip your head up long enough to smile at the elevator attendant and tell him where you’re headed. Inside the small box, you feel flustered; claustrophobic with excitement and anxiety and anticipation. When you reach the twelfth floor, you dart out quicker than is polite and look behind you as you scan the room numbers in front of you. 17, 19, 21. You look to both sides again before knocking twice. Finally, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a jogger-clad Matty. He looks soft around the edges, worn-out. It’s probably the jet lag. He beams at the sight of you and you push past him into the room.

“Did you get the pigs in a blanket?” you ask him once you’ve left your shoes at the door. His face falls and his brows furrow.

“What kind of greeting is that?” he returns. You look at him blankly in a stalemate.

“They said it will be 45 minutes,” he relents. Your face lights up and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek. And the neck. Matty wraps his arms around you and leans down to kiss the top of your head. The sweet floral scent of your hair fills his lungs, intoxicating him more than any joint or drink could.

“Not to get you all riled up, but I sprung for some orange juice as well,” he says into your hair. You chuckle good-naturedly and lean up to meet his lips in a homecoming kiss. Your skin begins to sing as he kisses you back insistently, parting your lips with his tongue. You whimper softly at the euphoric feeling, already beginning to spread to your head and limbs.

“Think we can go for a round before they come up with it?” you ask conspiratorially.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he replies. You’re smiling as he picks you up by your bum and carries you to the king sized bed, plopping you down unceremoniously in the middle. You move towards the top of it and shrug your hoodie off, revealing a red lace bra. Matty moves to cover you with his body as you get comfortable, your head against the plush, cold pillows.

One of his hands moves to trace the outline of your bra, flesh strains against the delicate fabric, practically begging to be released. He licks his bottom lip absentmindedly and his hand fully envelops your breast.

“Fuck, all this for me?” he asks. You roll your eyes.

“Obviously,” you smile back at him.

“You spoil me sweetheart. So fucking gorgeous,” his words are like syrup, sticky and sweet. They coat your tongue with sugar and go to straight your head. They linger in your mind when he's gone. You wish you could bottle them or press them into vinyl. Play them for your family and friends. Look, this is real. I’m his. A pang of hurt hits you right behind the eyes.

Matty is pressing soft, chase kisses to the exposed flesh on your chest. He looks so content– at home. Are you each others' homes?

“You okay baby?” he looks up at you, all pink lips and flushed skin and blown-out pupils, “you’re not taking the piss out of me for being sentimental.” His words make you chuckle, and snap from your melancholia. Your hands find his soft brown hair in answer to his question.

“I’m perfect. Fuck, keep going please,” his hands are around your back in no time, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You arch your back to grant him more access and he groans at the feeling of you pressed into him. The euphoria clouds his mind and his fingers move uselessly behind you. You move your hand to cover them.

“Here, I got it,” you chuckle.

“No. Fuck, please let me. You went to all this effort, I wanna unwrap you myself,” he finally undoes the clasp and you lift your arms as he peels the garment off of you, brushing his lips down your arm as he does. Your breasts, once held up perfectly by the lingerie, flatten on your chest, you look down at them. Matty catches you looking.

“Don’t worry, they’re perfect,” he kisses the valley between your tits, right next to your heart. “Perfect, perfect,” the movements of his mouth massage the soft flesh of your right breast as he moves further in. “Perfect,” he says and captures your right nipple in his mouth, immediately swirling his tongue around it, wetting you completely. His teeth close softly around the bud and just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he replaces them with his lips, sucking devotedly at you. Your skin is on fire and he’s the only one who can extinguish it. You know he’ll bring you right to the edge of burning down before he does.

You arch up into the feeling of his warm mouth and have a moment of clarity long enough to realize he’s still in his t-shirt. Your hands move to the hem and push it up his rigid stomach.

“Off, off, off,” you say deliriously. It’s meant to be sexy, but it comes out whiney, needy. Why are you always so needy?

Your thoughts are cut off by the sight of his fair skin littered with tattoos, passing thoughts he’s memorialized on his body. Your lusty eyes devour him and all of the sudden you need more control.

“Switch with me,” you demand. He obliges without a word and you take your leggings off as he shuffles around on his back. You move back over him, now clad only in a red thong that barely functions as underwear. Matty notices it at the same time you do: you’ve left a wet mark on his gray sweatpants where you straddled him. He reaches down to touch the damp fabric between your thighs, warm and inviting. He plays with the lace, pulling it up so it rubs deliciously between your folds and roughly on your clit. Your head falls back and you begin to grind against his hand as he moves the fabric back and forth, finally gathering the friction you came here for. His fingers wander down to your hole and push tentatively into you. He’s only halfway in when he pulls them out. Your eyes snap up to him annoyed. He offers you a conciliatory glance.

“Can I eat you out?”

You’re appeased. You dismount him to shuck your last stitch of clothing off. As you crawl back up his body, his eyes catch yours.

“You thought I was gonna be mean? What on earth would make you think that?” Your mind’s eye flashes back to a reunion a month ago, your hands tied beautifully above your head as Matty edged you cruelly with a vibrator. Come and get it, greedy girl. The obscenities echo in your head. You blush at the thought and at his taunts.

“Shut up,” you say timidly, and cover his face with your wet cunt. He’s got his arms around your thighs and his tongue slicing up between your folds, treating you to a variety of sensations as he pays attention to each sensitive part of you. Your hands come up to brace yourself against the headboard as he begins to work on your clit, licking in sweet sideways strokes before sucking it into his mouth. As the pressure in your body increases, you begin to ride his face, furiously chasing your release.

“Mmmmph fuck, good girl,” the vibrations from his moans go straight into your pussy and increase your pleasure tenfold.

“Please, please stay like that. I’m gonna cum,” you warn. He releases a lengthy moan into you as you continue to chase your peak. He knows he’s the only person to have ever made you cum, and he still gets off on it every time. He moves his mouth away from you long enough for you to hear what he’s saying.

“Cum for me, please. Need you all over my face baby,” and with that he’s back in you everywhere. Hands coming to cover your backside and reach into your wetness, his tongue licking up into your hole, filling you. His nose bumps into your clit at intervals that drive you crazy. But what tips you over the edge is when he moves his hand to the bottom of your entrance, pushing gently against your back wall. You feel so full and euphoric as your orgasm washes over you, starting at the space between your legs and spreading to your chest, your fingers, your nose. You ride him through it and stop when you can’t take it anymore, breathing heavily. His fingers are still pressed inside you. He’s obsessed with knowing it’s real, feeling your heartbeat against his fingers and face. You know you can never fake it with him, and what’s more you don’t have to.

You move off of him and lay on your back. He ducks to the side to clean himself a bit and then leans over to kiss you. You put your hand on his head and move him away gently.

“My face is numb. Can’t feel you,” you say bashfully.

“Yeah?” he’s proud and smiling, eyes squinted so tight you can’t make out his irises.

“Sorry,” you say.

“Please, that’s the best reason I’ve ever heard not to kiss someone,” he grins and pulls you into his chest to come down. Your hands come up to the space below his ribs, trace his top abdominals, get lost in the sweet smattering of chest hair that covers his tattoos.

A knock at your door snaps you from your reverie. You hurry under the duvet as Matty gets up, stretching his muscular arms gratuitously before heading to the door.

The hotel worker has a table he’s wheeling around and he begins to push it into the room. Matty is quick to stop the table and wink at the guy.

“I’ll take it from here, mate thanks,” he says and hands him a $20 note. With the door finally closed, Matty rolls your midnight snack over to your side of the bed. He pours you orange juice from the carafe before crossing the room to faff about with his luggage. You watch him curiously as you sip on your orange juice, slowly feeling the weight return to your body as you replenish your blood sugar. He produces a beautifully wrapped box from his duffel.

“What’s this?” you ask. It’s not uncommon for Matty to give you gifts, but he’s always finding some way to surprise you. He’s sweet, impossibly sweet. Though you suppose it must be easy to be nice when you’re rich. You push the thought away. Nothing exists outside of these four walls. Nothing exists except us.

He gets into bed and slots himself behind you. He kisses your shoulder as he places the parcel on the covers.

“Open it,” he insists. You rip the wrapping paper eagerly and see the box of a beautiful — that’s really the only word you could use to describe it — vibrator. It’s the fanciest you’ve ever seen: pink and white and gold. You want to laugh, of course he’d make an investment when it comes to this.

“You’re crazy, this is a fancy fucking vibrator,” you chuckle and lean your head against him. He reaches over to the table and uncovers the pigs in a blanket. He feeds one to you tenderly before enveloping you in his arms.

“You know our sex is too good for second rate toys,” he states, smiling into your neck. You finish chewing and turn around in his lap before hugging him around his neck.

“All this and room service?” you tease, opening the box excitedly.

“What can I say, I’m a generous guy,” he smiles slyly, taking the box from your struggling hands, “Now hurry up and eat, I wanna use it on you.” Your heart jumps into your throat.

“I don’t need to eat, I’m ready now,” you tell him, defiant. He loves it, loves how eager you are, how badly you want him, how you treat him like he’s the only person you’ve ever had. He traces his pointer finger over your cupid's bow.

“I’m ready too, darlin’ but I need you to eat something. After that I’ll keep you up all night long. I promise,” he coos. He grabs two more bites of food and gives one to you, cheersing you before eating his whole.

—

Matty gently removes the vibrator from your swollen, red clit and gets up off the bed as he quickly rids himself of his boxers. He leans back over your face and kisses you, admiring your blissed out expression.

“Do I need to get a condom?” he knows that, with you guys, it’s not always safe to go without. He wouldn’t pressure you, but he knows you’d rather feel him wholly, if you can. Obviously, he feels the same way. You blush a little.

“I’m actually good this time. I’ve not been with anyone else,” you don’t know why you’re shy about it. Surely, he wouldn’t find that lame, would he? No, he would like it, you think. He would like that he’s the only person to have been with you recently. Maybe you’re kidding yourself. He touches your face and snaps you out of it.

“I haven’t either,” he says calmly, “don’t trust anyone like I trust you.” He climbs back over top of you and kisses you deeply, “turn over for me, yeah?”

You oblige, settling comfortably on your stomach. He moves a pillow under your hips and hikes your right leg up at an angle on the bed. You hear buzzing again behind you as Matty positions the vibrator on your clit.

“You feel good?” he asks.

“Yes,” you’re a little out of breath, dumb with anticipation, “Need you though. Need it harder.”

You feel him running up and down through your folds, almost dipping into you. You moan obnoxiously, too proud to tell him again how much you need him. It’s enough for him, he pushes into you unhurriedly, savoring the moment, relishing in every inch he stretches you. When he bottoms out, he moves his hands up beside your shoulders and whispers in your ear.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Can I move?” You nod frantically into the pillow and he begins to snap his hips into yours. You feel your heartbeat everywhere as your pleasure begins to build. Matty covers your hands in his and stretches them out in front of you, keeping you in place as he fucks you precisely. Each time he bottoms out, he presses your clit perfectly against the vibrator.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he pants in your ear. He’s dominant, but it’s sweet and the perfect mixture of submission and pride swirls around your foggy brain as you begin to float. You try to focus on one feeling at a time, his cock sliding in and out of you, his hands on yours, his warm breath on your ear, the vibrations on the tortured nub between your legs. It’s too much all together. You let yourself go, brain wiping completely as you buck senselessly against the pillow, trying to meet his hips. You cum without realizing that the feeling was creeping up on you, attacked with pleasure as you collapse on the bed in total bliss. Matty’s not far behind, watching you unravel beneath him makes his ego swell and he fucks into you even harder than before.

“I need a second,” you say. It catches Matty off-guard and he stills above you, pulling out slowly. He turns you on your back so he can see your eyes.

“You okay?” he searches your face for any discomfort.

“I’m fucking great. Just sensitive. Were you close?” you ask, suddenly concerned you’ve ruined it for him.

“Yeah, I was,” he seems unbothered. He smiles down at you. You take his hard cock in your hand and begin to pump him over your stomach. “Fuuuuuuuck,” his head rolls back, “can I come in your mouth?”

You kneel in response and push him down onto his back and take him in your mouth, bobbing up and down, wetting him completely and keeping the pressure on him. He reaches out to grab your hand as he begins to spurt into your mouth. The salty tang of him tastes like victory. You smile at him; a content, fucked out grin and then swallow. He wipes a bit left over by the side of your mouth.

“C’mere,” he whines and pulls you into him again. “Goddamn you’re so good to me.”

“Aw don’t go soft on me now, Healy,” you taunt. He groans.

“Don’t be cute. I just came, I don’t have my wits well enough about me to go toe-to-toe with you,” he responds.

“Now if only you’d admit the same about the rest of the time,” you muse.

“Cheeky,” he bops your nose. You let silence fill the room for a moment.

“How long are you here for?” you question, looking up at him. A word from him could change the course of your life, it seems. No, you’re not in love with him. You wouldn’t let yourself do that. But god it feels right with him. It makes sense that you’d want to prolong your time with him for as long as possible. You’re not you when you’re with him. Well yes, you’re you, but a freer, less encumbered you. Like you’re on vacation, or on ecstasy…or something. He makes all the hurt go away. All of the hurt is outside, and inside is a protective fort of your own making. Your shelter.

“Five days. ‘Til Sunday,” he says, “can’t stand the heat longer than that.” You know Matty hates Los Angeles. You don’t blame him, really. It doesn’t seem anything like home to him.

But it still makes you sad. That he might spend bits of his free time in other places just because he likes the atmosphere better. That he would choose to be away from you even though you feel more like home to him than any city could.

“Okay,” you say. It didn’t really need an answer. You can’t see him every day anyways. You have a job and housemates that will wonder where you are, and a mother who’s always begging you to come by for dinner. You don’t tell them about him: your booty call, the rockstar. That would go over well. Anyways, you two are the only ones who get you. Everything goes bad once it leaves the safe-haven you’ve carefully built for yourselves. Rumors and questions and judgements. You’d rather keep it all here. Where it can be perfect.

“Will you tell me about Spain?” you query as you nestle yourself back into him, pushing away the future and snuggling back into the present.

“It was fucking unreal, darlin’. You would have loved it. All these breathtaking old churches and mosques. People dancing, playing guitar, and cheering in the streets. And the food, god. I know you too well to take you there, you would eat yourself silly and then tell me you’re too full to make love to me,” he chuckles.

“That seems like an appropriate behavior on vacation,” you push back.

“It is, but I want you all to myself,” he flips the two of you onto your sides and buries his head in your chest as he squeezes you impossibly closer. “Does that make me selfish?”

His voice sounds so small when it’s coming from under the covers.

“Maybe,” you say. He looks up at you like he might be hurt, “but I’m selfish when it comes to you, too.” You consider your next words, scared to be too candid. No, you think, If anyone would want me to be honest, it’s Matty.

“I get a little rush when you tell me that you haven’t been with anyone since you last saw me,” you say tentatively.

“Me too, sweetheart. It’s different with you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. You sit up and grab the glasses off the side table and go to the restroom. You relieve yourself quickly and fill the water cups, bringing them back to bed.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say. Matty raises his eyebrows in answer as he takes a sip of water. “What does it really feel like for guys when you have sex with girls? You guys always act like it feels so good when you first put it in. Is it really like that every time?”

Matty smiles softly at your earnestness. “I thought you were gonna ask me something serious,” he teases.

“I am being serious,” you insist.

He considers you, your expression, your posture. Deciding what you want from him. The truth, he thinks. All she ever wants is the truth. He takes you in his arms.

“You know when you get back from a holiday and you get to sleep in your bed on your pillow again for the first time in weeks?” you nod along. “It’s like that, but a thousand, no— a million times better. Especially if it’s with someone you know. It’s a relief. It’s safe. It feels like coming home.” You look at him, searching for any little bit of artifice. You find none, you should know by now that you won’t find any with him. Why can’t you trust that?

“You feel like coming home, darlin’.”

You believe him. You agree. So why does it still hurt? You put your head on his chest and close your eyes.

“So do you. Thanks for taking me home.”

“Anytime.”

You know he doesn’t quite mean it—any time he’s in town, yes. Anytime he’s not with a groupie in Japan. Anytime he’s not dealing with some work obligation or visiting his family in England. But as sleep begins to crowd your brain, you let yourself take his words at face value. Anytime. Anytime. He’ll come home anytime.

a/n: please tell me your thoughts etc. I hope this brightens your day! see you all at satvb this fall <3

[icequeenbae]

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net  @k-vanity  @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

[dyaz-stories]

found an island in your arms || Eun Hyuk x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: angst, eun hyuk deserves a hug and he gets one, eun hyuk is a little controlling towards the reader

previous one-shot

A/N: my entry for day two of @neohumanmonster's Turning a New Leaft event! Prompt: Change in Nature. While this is in relation with yesterday's entry, there is no need to have read it to understand this one, it just provides a little more context.

Eun Hyuk is more tense lately, more irritable. Everyone can feel it, though most people chalk it up to the dwindling rations and the growing fear that the army simply isn’t coming to save you. You can tell that Eun Yu doesn’t believe in that, though, and neither do you.

Eun Yu doesn’t seem to have an actual explanation for her brother’s out of character behavior. She pokes and probes and throws out cutting remarks to see what sticks, but she doesn’t seem all that worried either.

“He does that sometimes,” she answers you bluntly when you ask if she thinks Eun Hyuk is doing alright. “There’s probably something he wants to fix. I’m sure he’ll get there. He just needs a little push.”

That doesn’t satisfy you. You don’t like to sit idle while people are in pain, don’t like to sit idle at all, actually, even if someone is hammering that you’re doing it ‘for the greater good”. But the thing is, you and Eun Hyuk… don’t get along that well. You clashed a bunch in the beginning, before you were outvoted by the people who thought Eun Hyuk would bring them safety, at least. It was a short-term solution, what he was offering, you’d argued — to which he had replied that yours was a death sentence.

You still admired him. The decisions he had to make on a daily basis couldn’t be easy ones to make, nor were the sacrifices. Of course, you still often believed he chose wrong, but you had to admit that he had kept most of the group alive until now, and considering the circumstances, that was truly impressive.

You just wish that he would let you do more. Instead, he’s constantly getting in your way, particularly when it comes to helping the infected. ‘Your abilities could help the whole group’, he’d say. ‘We can’t afford to lose them because you trusted someone you shouldn’t have.’ It drove you insane, how easily he’d interfere, always with these pseudo rational arguments that you never really bought were genuine ones.

It felt as if they were just for show, and as such you never felt all that guilty for going against his orders.

You weren’t dumb. You wouldn’t put others in danger unless they were willing to risk themselves for something. But you also refused to let others get hurt through your own inaction. So if you had to sneak around to see Hyun-Su’s in order to treat his wounds and bring him food, then you’d do as you damn pleased, and neither Eun Hyuk nor anyone else had any say in that. It was your life, and it was your decision.

Still, you can’t say you’re thrilled when you find Eun Hyuk waiting for you when you exit Hyun-Su’s so-called room. He’s leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and he gives you an annoyed look when you come out.

“What did I tell you?” he asks you coldly.

You grimace. The two of you are almost the same age, and you hate that patronizing tone he insists on taking with you.

“Hyun-Su needed help,” you say. “There is a limit to what even you can ask of me.”

He’s silent for a while. You notice him clenching his fists, and something unusually dark passes in his eyes. His jaw tenses, a vein bulges on his forehead. You think you’ve done it now, that you’re going to get an earful — even if you still don’t quite understand why. There’s simply no reason for him to care that much, and the lack of control is blatantly unlike him.

You’d run into him often, before this whole— thing— started. He was always quiet but sweet, would smile politely when you got in the elevator, maybe exchange niceties with you when you met in the lobby. He’d leave early and come home late, with the look of someone who hadn’t taken a breather all day, but it never appeared to have any effect on his temper.

That’s what’s throwing you off right now. How angry he seems to be.

After what feels like an eternity, he exhales, relaxes his hand.

“I guess you’re right,” he says, but his voice sounds too even now, like it’s forced. “I can’t force you to do anything. I just wish you’d consider that—” He cuts himself off the second his voice becomes strained again, looks away from you.

None of that is normal for him.

“Eun Hyuk,” you say, taking a step towards him. “Is there something wrong?”

He stares in your eyes for a second, and for that second, you think that maybe he’ll give you an honest answer.

“Everything is wrong,” he says in the end, and again, you know it’s nothing more than a half-truth. Then again, you can’t blame him for not telling you. “Can you even remember the last time thing went right for us?”

It’s not that he’s lying, it’s just that you know he’s not being genuine, and so you don’t bother continuing that line of discussion. It unnerves the other residents when you drop a conversation that is clearly going nowhere, makes them think you’re avoidant, but you think Eun Hyuk understands it. Close enough, anyway.

“You should still tell someone,” you tell him.

“I— What?”

“I get why you wouldn’t want to tell me,” you say with a shrug. “I still think you should tell your sister. Or Jae-Heon, I guess, if you’re more comfortable with that, but I get why it can’t be me.” You take a step towards him, put a hand on his shoulder. You do it slowly, as if you were trying not to spook a skittish cat. Eun Hyuk glances down at your hand, but makes no movement to get rid of it. “I’m here if you need me.”

He scoffs, looks away from you, pushes his glasses higher on his nose. But you don’t let go, and he doesn’t actually move away from you.

“I mean it,” you say softly. “If you want to talk, or if there’s any other way to help you. Just let me know.”

He closes his eyes. You wait for it to sink in, then take your hand off, hoping you haven’t pushed a boundary already. As you break contact with him, though, he grabs your wrist without warning, and pulls you into him. Your chest collides with him as he wraps both arms around and his chin comes rest on your shoulder.

You’re surprised by how strong his embrace is, how he clearly doesn’t want to let go.

“Eun Hyuk?” you squeak.

“Just— Just give me a second,” he says, voice so low you barely hear it. “Please. Just let me have that.”

You feel your heart almost breaking at the desperate plea. Slowly, you close your arms around him, start rubbing his back. You’re not sure what’s happening, not completely, but you know he’s warm against you, and you know you need that contact, too.

Seconds go by, until he takes a step back, clearing his throat. He refuses to meet your eyes, but you don’t miss that his cheekbones are dusted pink now.

“Sorry, I—” Then he lets out a long exhale, and appears to get himself back under control. “You offered.”

You’re not fooled in any way by that, but you still nod.

“And the offer still stands. If you need any help, you know where to find me.”

Another long exhale.

“You— Why— Why would you—”

“Because you need help,” you answer. “You’re the one who’s looking after everyone, and I want to make sure there’s someone looking after you, too.” Eun Yu does, sure, but Eun Yu’s a kid, and that’s a lot of responsibility to put on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Eun Hyuk mumbles, still not looking at you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then he gives you a vague nod and leaves the hallway without once looking back.

Your eyes follow him, worried. You’re afraid he’s reaching his breaking point. This situation is revealing things about people, about yourself, too, even if you don’t like looking at it. Clearly, it’s changing you.

You can only hope that Eun Hyuk will withstand that change — and be by his side for as long as he needs you to.

hope you're enjoying this! tomorrow's entry will be for hyun-su ^-^ as always, reblogs and comments are strongly appreciated and keep me motivated and writing :)

more writing for sweet home

[kdogreads]

Gibbs birthday imagine please my birthday is September 1st

Happy birthday my sweet friend!! I’m so sorry to be late 😭 I hope a little Gibbs fluff brightens your day! 🥳🎉

“One, uh, iced matcha latte with brown sugar?” Jethro questioned himself as he tried his best to order your favorite Starbucks drink to surprise you with.

The barista noticed the crumpled sticky note in his hand and smiled.

“Ordering for someone else?” She asked in a friendly tone.

“My wife. She wrote it down for me months ago,” He shrugged a little in defeat, “It’s her birthday.”

The barista held her hand out gently to ask for the note, hoping she could decipher the order better than he could.

“Oh! Easy enough. One venti iced matcha latte with 3 pumps of brown sugar syrup,” She confidently announced and Jethro breathed a sigh of relief, “We do have the apple brown sugar syrup out now, do you think she’d like that?”

“Your guess is better than mine,” Jethro gave her a slightly smile.

The barista simply nodded and pressed some buttons on her screen. He had to try not to groan when the total popped up on the card reader.

She gets this crap everyday? He wondered to himself.

He waited quietly for a moment before his name was called out in the busy coffee shop. When he stepped up to grab the green drink, the barista handed him a small bag, too.

“Oh, I don’t think this is mine,” Jethro politely informs the barista.

“It’s on the house. Have a grande!”

He smiled and nodded in thanks, the Starbucks pun going completely over his head.

It had been a good day. Your coworkers all went together to get a cake from a local bakery, decorated in flowered vines and birthday wishes spelled out in delicate lettering.

You stepped out of the elevator, the last corner of cake tucked neatly under your arm in a to-go box and nerves firing in anticipation at seeing your Jethro.

Scanning the lobby in front of you, you spotted him. Dressed in a classic Jethro combination of a solid blue polo covered by a soft gray suit jacket and matching slacks, he smiled your way.

Your eyes slid down and spotted the icy green drink in one hand and a bouquet of colorful wildflower in the other. A soft white spotlight shone down on him and he looked like your own little slice of heaven right in front of your eyes.

“Hi,” You whispered with a smile spread across your cheeks and giddy butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

“Hi sweetheart,” He leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, “Have a good day?”

You looked down to the cake in the crook of your elbow and back to him in all his sweet glory, “Even better now.”

He handed you your icy green goodness and slid the leftover cake slice out of your grasp in on swift motion. You took a sip and closed your eyes in bliss at how delicious it tasted.

“How did you know?” You begged of him, racking your brain trying to figure out how he even knew what matcha was.

Jethro simply shrugged and lifted one corner of his mouth in a smirk.

“Oh,” He grabbed for a small Starbucks bag tucked in his grasp behind the flowers, “The lady at the coffee shop said you’d like this.”

You pulled your favorite sprinkled cake pop out of the bag and gasped, always amazed by just how Jethro can pull off the sweetest surprises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” You might literally have hearts in your eyes at this point.

Jethro wrapped a strong arm around your waist and kissed your temple, “Just wait ‘til we get home.”

You shot him a questioning glare as you dug into your cake pop and headed for the door. He just smiled and leaned in to whisper into your ear.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

[bunny-eats-fox]

about first times

miyamura izumi warnings: jealous reader ; sex/18+/SMUT; ends in fluff wc: 3,2k an: this was a request! and while I am rather "meh" regarding them, like i do them when i like them sort of thing, i couldn't say not to his prompt! thank u 🫶 request: "Hey, okay? I don't know if you accept requests.... if so, could you write something for Miyamura, where the reader is jealous of him with Hori? (If you can write some hot stuff too... )Thanks!!"

----------------

"I'm here"

When this notification popped up, you couldn't stop your lips from curving into a smile.

"I'll quickly finish up, I'll be down in 10! O((>ω< ))o" That's what you hastily typed before you turned back to your laptop screen.

After another 5 minutes, you had finally finished draft number three of the new contract your firm was about to conclude. It was a big responsibility for you, your biggest yet, but you were thankful for the chance, hence overtime was sometimes inevitable. Since it was 100% compensated and, thankfully, not too often you had to stay late, you didn't mind that much. Especially because your boyfriend of three years was ever so kind to pick you up then. That way you were home just a little bit earlier.

When you finally packed your bag, you hurried out of your office into the elevator. Excited for that Thursday to have ended, and thus the weekend being only one more day away, you rushed out of the elevator once it hit ground floor. 

However, the swift clicking of your heels against the tile flooring suddenly fell silent once you stopped abruptly in your track. Through the big glass windows of the lobby you saw Izumi… and his ex. 

It wasn't like you hated Hori or anything; especially since she hadn't been in contact with Miyamura for over 4 years (according to him). There was no reason for you to hide, rather the opposite. You would go out there and confidently greet her.

However, as you wanted to start walking again, you stopped when you saw your boyfriend and Hori laughing. A sting in your heart made you gulp and clutch your bag a tad bit tighter. It wasn't even the polite little laugh one did to not make such a meeting awkward, no - it was a tummy clutching hearty laughter that had Miyamura and Hori bend forwards. 

The twinge of jealousy you suddenly felt stopped you completely for a moment. You knew there wasn't a reason for you to get jealous. It was admirable to be on good terms with your ex-lover. Plus, you trusted Izumi. 

Yet, when she finally waved and left, you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Hopefully, you can quickly get over that weird tenseness that had now filled your body after you had witnessed that. 

As you finally wanted to get out of your office, you stopped once more. 

"(Y/n)-san, good work today."

"Tachibana-san!", you bowed lightly and then smiled at him, "Good work today, Tachibana-san."

Your boss, a handsome 27-year old, held you back from leaving for just a little longer. Though, as you happily told him about the progress you had made regarding the new contract, you were oblivious to the fact that the young man had put his hand on your back. Too engrossed in the conversation, you didn't realize and only when he excused himself after wishing you a good evening, you thought you had felt something slide down your back to your hips. Though, as it was gone, you didn't think about it further. 

Instead, you finally left the building after your boss and rushed to your lover.

"I'm so sorry you had to wait, Izumi!" You openly hugged him and your boyfriend immediately put his arms around you as well. 

"No, don't worry about it. You've worked hard.", he smiled and then kissed your forehead.

Everything was okay. You hoped you quickly forgot what you had seen today as you got into the car and drove back to your shared apartment.

#

After dinner and your usual night routine, you sat on your bed together with him as you moisturized your legs. Even though you were a little… miffed he didn't tell you about Hori, you hoped you didn't show it. There was no reason to get emotional about that. They just had a good laugh together, nothing more.

Though, everything went wrong when he suddenly started, "So… who was the man you were talking to?" 

"Hm?" You were honestly surprised as you looked at him in confusion.

"You know, the dark haired, good looking one before you came out.", he specified. 

"Ohh…", somehow you didn't like his tone, "That was my boss."

"Pretty young for someone leading such a big firm." Izumi didn't look at you as he rummaged through his nightstand.

"Yeah… his father died last year so he unexpectedly had to take over. He is really nice though and hard working."

The mood was, for whatever reason, a little tense.

"Hah yeah I can see he is really working hard to flirt with his subordinates."

"Excuse me?", you raised an eyebrow. 

"(Y/n), I saw you and him." Izumi finally turned to you. "His hand was on your back and he was super close, too."

You scoffed speechlessly and just looked at him as if he was the crazy one. 

"He was being friendly?" Why did you defend your boss? It was true that you had felt something, so it was Tachibana's hand? 

"Friendly?? Right, because when I am friendly I touch someone like that.", Izumi clicked his tongue and then turned around to lay down, "Whatever."

When he turned his back to you, you couldn't hold back any longer, "No, I know. When you are being friendly, you just laugh hysterically with your ex, right? Must have been a reeeally fun conversation you had with her."

Finally, Miyamura turned around again and looked at you utterly surprised.

"That's right. I saw you too. And you didn't even tell me you met Hori today." After you had desperately tried to keep your cool, it was finally over as tears sprung to your eyes. Goodness, when will you learn not to cry in conversations like these?

"So don't get all huffy now telling me my boss is flirting with me when you have the greatest fucking time with your ex just outside my damn office.", you choked on the last words a little and then threw a pillow into his face.

"Ah, (Y/n)-"

"Shut up! I'm going to sleep!", you yelled before you turned around and slipped under your warm blanket, your back facing your boyfriend.

And all Izumi could do was listen to the light sniffles and watch your trembling form underneath the blanket as he lay back himself, wondering why he was such an idiot. 

#

The next day, you and him didn't talk. Still miffed, you put on your heels before you grabbed your bag. Honestly, you would have just left without saying anything, but Izumi had something different in mind when he came to the front door. At first, you ignored him, though he didn't really care about that as he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. For just a few seconds, you felt his soft lips on yours, leaving you speechless for a moment.

"See you later. Come home safely.", he said like all the days prior as he pushed your lunch bag into your hands.. 

"Mh…thanks, you too… Love you.", you then mumbled loud enough and quickly walked out the door, though you still heard his "Love you too" before it closed fully.

With a loudly thumping heart, you walked to the bus station, undoubtedly happy about what he did. It certainly made you realize that you would have made a grand mistake walking out the house like that. Life truly was unpredictable and leaving the house without a single goodbye or loving word was not right. Despite your little fight, Izumi still knew that.

You were so embarrassed right now for acting that childish that you were glad the bus came quickly just so could hide in a corner and truly reflect on your little quarrel.

#

When you finally were able to eat your lunch, you just wanted a quiet moment to yourself, however…

"(Y/n)-san!)", a cheerful voice called out to you and you watched your boss approaching you.

"(Y/n)-san, you didn't eat your lunch yet?", though he didn't give you a chance to answer, "So, I thought I'd ask if you'd like to join today?" Tachibana reached out his hand and squeezed your shoulder.

That's when it finally clicked: Izumi was right. Your boss was shamelessly flirting with you - and that in front of everyone too!

"I'm so sorry, Tachibana-san thank you for the invitation, but I've been looking forward to eating my boyfriend's bento since he gave it to me this morning.", you politely said with a smile, but deliberately mentioned Miyamura, hoping he would get the hint as you also politely, but firmly, pushed his hand away from your shoulder.

Tachibana's face slightly derailed, but he swiftly had his composure back as he forced a smile and nodded. 

"Of course… Then, if you'll excuse me.", he still smiled before he walked off.

Sighing, you turned back to your desk. Thankfully, your coworkers didn't say anything (to your face at least) as you opened your lunch bag. Every day, even though he had to work himself, he got up and made you a bento.

You felt the tears already, but you didn't want to cry while you stuffed your face with Miyamura's cooking.  

You felt even more horrible about what had happened. Especially because he was totally right, your boss did flirt with you and you just showed him your nasty side by being jealous. Even though you did trust Izumi, you really did. It was just… whenever you saw Hori, you got reminded of the fact that she got all of Izumi's first times. Because for you, Izumi was your first everything. You met when you were 20 and while he had experienced all those "first times" already, you hadn't even romantically held hands with someone before that. So sometimes you wondered if he didn't regret splitting with his "first love", especially because you had heard from a young age that “the first love was like no other love, it can never be forgotten” and stuff like that. Hence why it made you insecure sometimes that he would want to go back to his first love where he got to experienced all those other firsts as well…

"I have to apologize… no matter what…that was childish of me.", you mumbled to yourself once you finished your delicious lunch.

With new motivation and determination, you went back to work.

#

With a deep sigh, you got ready to finally leave the office. Even though you got off on time, the thought of using public transportation made you grumble. Usually, you might have ended up calling Izumi to pick you up, since he usually closed the shop for the day at that point, however, that wasn't an option now. Not after you left like that this morning.

Though, when you stepped out of the elevator and walked to the big front entrance, you saw a familiar silhouette through the glasses of the door and windows. Even though Tachibana came around the corner just in that moment and called for you, you didn't even realize. Too fixated, you rushed past him, your heels frantically clicking on the tile flooring as you pushed the doors open and…

Indeed, Izumi leaned against the car and waited for you. Once he looked up, a smile adorned his face and that's when you ran the last few meters just to throw yourself at him.

"I'm sorry. I was a jealous idiot and you were right about Tachib-" However, Izumi interrupted you when his hands gently tilted back your head so he could silence you with a kiss.

"I’m sorry too. I should have brought it up differently. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about-" It was your time to silence him with a kiss, before you shook your head.

"It's fine. Really."

Then you hugged each other tightly. Izumi, nor you cared about the fact that you stood right in front of your office building and in the middle of the streets. Rather…when Miyamura just glanced into the building's direction, he saw your boss; he stood at the front windows, watching you two. It took everything in Izumi to not do anything inappropriate, so he just resumed to hugging you tighter and kissing your cute little side profile. If your boss ever touched you again, he might not have been so tame though.

#

With tangled mouths, Izumi somehow managed to open your shared apartment door so he could pull you inside in a haste. Clumsily, you both stumbled through the entrance, mouths never apart as he swiftly kicked the door close. A muffled moan escaped your lips when your boyfriend pushed you against the now closed door. Though, you didn't resist, rather, you pulled him in even closer, your tongues entwined as his hands roamed your body. 

Izumi didn't even bother to open your blazer or blouse, instead, he opened the zipper of your pencil skirt and in one motion, he pulled it down so it pooled around your ankles.  You didn't even have time to take off your pumps had he already grabbed your leg and pulled it up.

"Is it okay?", he asked breathlessly, which only elicited a small giggle from you.

"Mmn." You nodded and hummed approvingly, your hands already working on the zipper of his jeans.

That was all Izumi needed. Once his own pants and boxers pooled somewhere around his knees, he needily pushed your underwear to the side (because he really couldn't be bothered to pull it down). 

With your help, he guided his aching cock into your dripping core, eliciting moans and grunts from you both. Miyamura filled you just the right way that it made you tremble. 

"Fuck… you're so wet. It's so good.", your boyfriend grunted between gritted teeth. And you could just whimper in agreement as he started thrusting relentlessly without letting you catch your breath for a moment. 

All you could do was grab onto him as Izumi moved his hips desperately and hard, grinding against that deepest spot inside you. Your back hit the apartment door and you were pretty sure neighbors could hear your moaning, despite your efforts to muffle it by burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"Izumi!! Izum- nghhgg, d-don't…I…", you tried to get through to your boyfriend and he did stop relentlessly attacking your g-spot for a second.

"Does it hurt?", he asked in between heavy gasps holding you firmly pushed against the door. Yet, he gently kissed the side of head, his voice full of concern when he whispered, "Want me to stop?"

Though you just shook your head and hugged him even tighter (if that was even possible), "N-no it just…feels too good…my voice…will- MNGHG!", you harshly bit your lip when Izumi angled his hips a certain way to thrust deeply into you.

"You're so cute.", he whispered, though a small smirk played around his lips which made you pout. And then, he was back to burying himself over and over into your dripping pussy. The noises from your needy and desperate love-making were loud and so erotic.

Even though you were embarrassed that you stood at the front door, going at it like rabbits, there was also something inside you that didn't care if anyone would hear. Right now, all you were capable of doing was to hang onto him and let that bliss sweep you both away.

#

"Haaahhh~", you let out a blissful sigh while you relaxed against him. Even though it was pretty crammed in the small bathtub, neither of you cared.

Compared to yesterday, it was a comfortable silence as you cuddled together. As Izumi littered kisses all over your shoulder and neck, your thoughts once again drifted back to how you felt yesterday and how unnecessary that stupid fight was.

"Izumi?"

"Mmn?"

"About yesterday…I really am sorry. You know, it's not that I don't trust you. It's just.. ", you fiddled with your fingers trying to find the right words. Thankfully, he waited for you and just squeezed your thigh gently.

"It's just, uhhmm, you know, sometimes I…I get kinda jealous thinking about how Hori was your first everything and…  that she got to have that all. I just wish I could have gotten to know you sooner and experience that with you …Ahhh just saying it out loud, it sounds so stupid. I'm really sorry." You shyly moaned at the end and buried your face in your hands.

For a moment, Miyamura didn't say anything, before a gentle laugh was heard. Squeezing you just a tad bit tighter, he nuzzled his head against your own before he said, "You're seriously adorable, (Y/n)."

"Mmmnnn don't say that… I'm really stupid.", you mumbled, though Izumi shook his head with a little chuckle.

"There is really nothing to worry about, (Y/n). She might have had a few of my first times, but definitely not all of them. The first time I'm living together with someone besides my parents, is with you. I’ve also never made a bento for someone before, but I couldn’t help myself when I saw how hard you were working and I love that you always compliment my cooking, it’s my little treasure.", he giggled and kissed the back of your hands until you finally lowered them so his beautiful blue eyes could stare directly into your soul, "And there are still many firsts to come…even now…”

"Eh? Wha-?" 

Though before you could even say anything else, his hand touched your cheek and pulled you in really close before he whispered in your ear, "Aishiteru."

When Izumi rose again, the look on your face was priceless. Your beautiful eyes opened wide, mouth opened in disbelief and the sudden heat from your cheek transmitted onto the palm of his hand made his heart jump in response.

You were truly speechless for a moment, but also so incredibly happy. Hence why you just couldn’t stop the tears from blurring your vision. Without hesitation, you hugged him tightly and so suddenly that the water in the tub overflowed, though you both didn’t care when you held each other close.

And then, you returned those words.

Just like that, Izumi’s cheeks also turned a cute shade of red as he quickly buried his face in the crook of your neck. Even though he just said it himself, hearing it back from the one he loved the most was truly… exhilarating and even Izumi had to fight back those tears of happiness.

That surely was a “first time” you didn’t even think about receiving any time soon, but it only made your heart melt more, knowing that you were the first in his life to hear those special words. And it wasn’t any different for Miyamura himself, because he had felt the urge to tell you for quite a while now, but never knew when and he didn’t just want to randomly say it one day. Though, it couldn’t have been a better timing than this. Because even if there were some bad days, at the end of it, you could be sure that the love you had for each other was like no other and there were still many first he wanted to experience together with you.

__________________________

all characters canonically under 18 are always aged up in nsfw scenarios ; english is not my native language so i apologize for any mistakes ;

[petalsscribbles]

16. unexpected turn of events

Jay enters the bar, spotting his friend waving at him almost right away. He approaches the table with long strides and after a few polite bows to Yn's friends, he gently shakes his husband's shoulder.

"Jay... Where is he?" Yn mumbles before opening his eyes. "It's you." He says, lips curling into a smile.

"Yeah, it's me." He confirms and helps Yn on his feet. "Come on, let's go home. You've had enough alcohol for one day."

Yn nods and waves to his friends, hanging onto Jay with his other arm.

The ride home is peaceful, Yn just stares out of the window and hums a melody Jay doesn't recognize.

"Did you have fun today?" Jay asks, eyes on the road.

"Mhm. So much."

"I'm glad. Maybe next time don't drink so much."

"I'm not that drunk." Yn defends, words coming out a bit slurry.

"You were calling my name. You're positively wasted." Jay retorts as they pull up to the apartment complex's garage. Yn doesn't respond.

Once they're out of the car and the vehicle is locked, Jay leads his husband to the elevator and eventually through the hallway to their apartment. After drinking ungodly amount of water, brushing teeth and changing clothes, all with Jay's help, Yn is finally comfortably laying in their bed, curled up to Jay's side.

Jay kisses his forehead, wishes him a good night's sleep and closes his eyes. He can sense the matress dip as Yn moves and feels his lips press on Jay's moments later. Jay doesn't question it.

They're an affectionate couple. They've shared dozens of kisses - greeting pecks, loving and innocent ones, some passionate and desperate in heated moments, but none like this one.

It's slow, somewhat sensual but without purpose or a goal.

"What was that for, huh?" Jay asks jokingly, supporting himself on his elbow as they pull apart. Usually, Yn would respond in the same manner, teasing or light-hearted sarcasm. But not tonight. His expression is still, lips unmoving, eyes unreadable.

"I love you." He breathes and Jay's whole body tenses in response.

"Wha-what did you say?" Jay's voice is pathetically meek as he punches the question out of his chest with great difficulty.

"I love you." Yn repeats, clearly and slowly.

"I love you." He says one more time, before exhaustion and the alcohol in his system take their toll and Yn blacks out, leaving a shocked Jay behind.

The man is frozen in his previous position, dealing with several emotions at once, trying his best to make sense of the situation and failing miserably. He comes to the conclusion that all he can do right now is pray that Yn doesn't forget.

A/n: guys I finally saw Dune part 2 and Lady Jessica still owns my entire existence. I would also gladly let Chani shove her blade into my neck but that's a story for another time.

taglist OPEN comment/ send ask to be added

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[screamdream3828]

im so obsessed with the way you portray sam if u dont mind can u do one where sam isnt ready to be public with r and chad likes and keeps flirting with r so sam just gets stressed and jealous while r finds it funny n teases her and reminds her she’s who wanted to be private

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying them, and this was such a fun idea

Warnings - light smut/references

At first you think of it like a game, how many times can you sneak into the apartment - and Sam’s room without being caught.

You enjoy the thrill of running through unlocked doors, ducking around counters and pressing yourself flat to the ground under her bed.

Sam doesn’t entirely the find the process amusing the way you do, and argues it’s a necessity. You’re more hesitant, but understand why she wants to keep your relationship a secret.

You know everything that happened in Woodsborough, how Richie messed up Sam’s ability to trust. 

You also understood why she became so protective of Tara, and a new face in the situation wouldn’t help their adjustment to life in New York. 

It still hurt regardless when you crossed your girlfriend in the lobby with her sister, and she’d barely give you a look. 

As you start to become closer to the group, it becomes harder to pretend Sam is nothing but your friend’s big sister.

You don’t intend on befriending Tara. It happens randomly. The elevator breaks down with the pair of you in it, and an hour conversation means you’re definitely more than acquaintances.

Its bittersweet in a way, because you wish that Sam was comfortable enough for you to introduce yourself properly. 

But you don’t want to push her, make her uncomfortable so you continue your secret relationship.

After the elevator incident, you and Tara exchange phone numbers and sporadically text. 

She even invites you around to hang out with her friends once, and Sam almost collapses at the sight when she returns home from work. 

You hang out a few more times at the apartment, and feel Sam watching you. 

The arrangement initially works. You like getting to know more about Sam, to hear funny stories from Tara and teasing remarks from Mindy.

And you know Sam enjoys having you around. She pretends sometimes it’s to keep you safe - that she likes having eyes on you. 

But it’s easier to use the excuse that you’ll sleep on the couch, and sneak into her room that night. 

Then things start to go wrong.

You're all making dinner around at her apartment - you, Sam, Tara, Mindy, her girlfriend Anika and Chad. 

As usual, the couple are being all touchy feely and you return to the living room - part jealously, part frustration that you can’t touch your girlfriend with the same carefree ease. 

“Hey” a voice greets, and you hope it’s Sam - strong arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling your body against hers.

But it’s too deep to be Sam and you sigh a little when you notice it’s Chad.

It’s not that you dislike the guy. He’s fun to be around, especially at parties. His social standing also means you get invited to various hangouts.

One thing he is not - is subtle. You’re pretty vocal about your sexuality, openly pansexual. Ever since you told the group, Chad is becoming increasingly more clear with his flirting towards you.

He started with compliments, your dress at a party, your hair at dinner. Basic stuff that you’d shrug off with a polite thank you and small smile.

Sam was never around to notice, so you assumed it would stop soon.

”What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?” He asks, smiling at you genuinely. You can’t bring yourself to be mad though, he isn’t being sleazy or creepy - just flirty.

“Disgusting! Get a room” Mindy calls from the kitchen, and you hear her small whine as Anika slaps her shoulder.

You try to explain you aren’t alone, you just want some time to yourself.

Chad nods with a smile as though he understands your predicament entirely, and rests his hand on the skin of your bare shoulder.

You're about to change the subject when you notice someone at the door.

”Who needs to get a room?” Sam asks, brow furrowed and crossing her arms. You’re momentarily distracted by how good her arms look in the pale blue tank top to notice Chad staring at you.  

Sam notices though, and her eyes darken. You try to hold in your smirk. Chad means no harm, and he’s certainly not your type even if you were single. 

“Oh Mindy was just teasing us” he laughs good natured, offering Sam a drink, who declines - clenching her jaw so hard you watch the muscle flex.

The situation is amusing and you bite back a laugh behind the rim of your beer.

”Us?” Sam enquires, leaning against the door frame as she shoots Chad daggers. Ever oblivious, he nods. “Sure. We were just hanging out”

Its a wonder no one commented on how irritated Sam looked right now, more so than usual as she glared at Chad.

“Just chilling” you agree, innocently and Chad begins to explain the situation to Sam - who looks as if she couldn’t care less.

She’s watching you with a dark expression, something you only see in the bedroom where she lets herself go, holds you with tight hands and uses that voice. 

The same one that makes you tumble towards your peak in record breaking time. You swallow hard at the thought of it, and watch instead how a vein pulses across her pursed jaw.

”I see” She notes, voice venomous. She makes no attempt to join you both on the couch - or leave either.

The atmosphere would be more awkward if Chad wasn’t so oblivious, or if you didn’t find the whole situation so entertaining. 

“Can I speak to you Y/N?” She finally asks through gritted teeth, and you notice how white her knuckles are from clenching her fists.

Nodding innocently, you muster your biggest smile. “Sure Sam. Want to join me and Chad?”

Chad starts bumbling away, already shifting to make room but Sam’s eyes are furious. You can barely hold in your smirk as she seethes.

If looks could kill then poor Chad would be in flames by now. You’re sure that Sam wouldn’t be opposed to that idea as she clenches her jaw again and takes a deep breath.

”Alone Y/N” she affirms, and Chad’s attention is focused on whatever shitty sitcom plays on the tv. You fold your arms, enjoying the show.

”Can’t you tell me here Sam?” You whine, using that ridiculously high voice you only keep for her. The same voice you use to beg for her hands, her mouth. The same voice you know gets her undone.

Your eyes challenge her, barely able to keep the mischievous smile from your lips as she surveys you - like a predator with it’s prey.

If you would have tried these games without a crowd, you’d already be bent over a table by now - Sam’s first knuckle deep. 

But she can’t do that with her sister preparing a salad mere feet away. Her eyes tell another story, and with a flush you think about the night you’ll be in for. 

“Fine” you relent, having teased her enough. “I’ll be back soon” You call into the kitchen, and let Sam take your hand and drag you into her bedroom when out of view.

Immediately you’re pinned against the wall, her dark eyes locked onto yours. “You think that’s funny?” She hisses, and your clit throbs at the sound of her voice.

You whine, reaching for her - but she jerks her body out of touch. “I didn’t realise you were single” Her lips move to your neck, grazing at the skin slightly as she explains.

”I happen to remember from last night, how much you were begging to be mine”

You flush a deep red at the memory and try to press your legs together to alleviate the pressure. Sam noticed, because of course she does - and slides a firm thigh between them.

Its hard to resist the urge to grind down until you’re a wet, whimpering mess but the game works better when you listen. You’ve been a brat all night, and as fun as it is to see Sam’s reaction - you need a reprieve. 

“Imagine my surprise” she continues, mouthing at your neck sloppily. “To find you all cosied up with Chad”

You want to explain the truth. Tell her Chad is nothing more than a friend. But you like the way her teeth feel against the sensitive skin of your throat and all you can do is moan pathetically. 

“I don’t like to share, Y/N” she grumbles, sliding down your top to bite down hard on the skin above your breast. 

It’s a miracle Tara or anyone couldn’t hear you both, with Sam’s rough growls and your mewling whimpers, like a kitten. 

“Well maybe I want to be yours in public too” You bite back, groaning again at the feel of her mouth on your neck. “Not just your girlfriend in secret”

She softens at that, eyes loosing most of their fight. Her finger strokes your jaw. “I know. You’ve been so good. I’m sorry”

You tilt your face into her touch. “You know I don’t like Chad. Not like that” 

“I know baby” she soothes, cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth. You chase her lips and she obliges, sucking hard on your bottom lip as you groan for her.

She pulls away too soon, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’ll tell them soon. I promise baby. Give me time okay?”

Her eyes search yours and you read the honesty in them, nodding. She mirrors your nod and fixes your shirt, watching your reflection in the mirror.

”Ready?” She asked, and you nod - accepting one final peck before you both head out to the kitchen.

[kingofthering]

2021 Honda Valentino - mixed media AU (5/∞)

Marc has never been a fan of team launches (any event where you have to wear your leathers while not being allowed to ride the bike is rarely fun) but as he approaches the hangar in the Barcelona suburbs and finds a place to park himself, he tries to focus on the positives.

This was only a 20 minutes drive from his home. It's digital and he won't have to interact with a lot of people. In about three hours, he'll already be back to his dogs, just in time to go walk them out with Alex.

Well, and then there is the Valentino Rossi of it all. Something Marc's mind dutifully ignores until he's lead to the room he's supposed to use to change himself and he comes face to face with Valentino the second he opens the door.

Valentino is sitting on a small chair in a corner, long legs crossed at the ankle, his attention on his phone until Marc enters.

He's wearing the Honda leathers and it's bringing Marc two decades back, back when he was a little boy in front of the TV, watching Valentino zoom past everyone on track on top of an orange bike.

It's the leathers Marc has been wearing for the past decade, identical saved for the yellow of the boots, the yellow of the knee slides and the yellow of the gloves that Marc can catch a glimpse of on the table to the side.

The sight is more dizzying than Marc prepared himself for.

They shared a couple of Zoom calls over the last couple of weeks but Valentino looks different now, his beard shaven and his wild curls hidden under a cap.

The last time Marc saw Valentino in the flesh had been in Jerez, when Valentino ran into him on Friday night of the second week, exiting the elevator that Marc was waiting for.

Marc's left hand had immediately risen to his right arm and Marc could see the immediate panic in Valentino's eyes, his mask not able to conceive the evident grimace on his face.

"Sorry," Valentino had apologized. Marc hadn't missed the way his hand had almost tried to reach for Marc.

"It's fine," Marc had said, watching Valentino carefully. He'd expected another reaction, something ranging anywhere from "Are you okay?" to "You shouldn't be here".

What Valentino had gone for had been "They changed the location of the media room compared to last week, still on the second floor but you have to head right instead of left when you leave the elevator."

Marc had stared at him and Valentino had given him a quick nod before moving around Marc and leaving him there, the doors of the elevators closing before Marc could get in.

The next day, Marc rode in practice with so much pain that he had to quit for the weekend. The following week he was getting his second arm surgery and soon after, he was putting an end to his 2020 season.

Valentino’s announcement that he was joining Honda came. He never contacted Marc. Marc never expected him too.

"Ciao," Valentino says from the other side of the room, his eyes leaving the screen he was previously focused on but the phone staying in his hands.

Marc greets him back, a short hello and a polite nod before focusing on the side of the room where his stuff has been piled, his leathers hanging on a hanger and the rest of his equipment down in a bag.

JL must have been here earlier. Marc has no idea why he's no longer there. He's tempted to call for just a moment but quickly decides against it. He can dress up on his own. He can spend time alone with Valentino as well. It's fine.

The silence is a little disconcerting and Marc can't tell if Valentino is giving him privacy or if Marc just can't feel his eyes on him (and then, he has to try to not feel disappointed by the possibility that Valentino doesn't want to look, which is even worse, all things considered).

Putting the on the bottom part of his leathers is easy, mechanical, brain working on auto-pilot. Same thing for his long sleeves and his boots. When Marc gets up and starts going for the next step, he wishes JL was there.

His arm has no right feeling so stiff two months after his latest injury. Did he overdo it during his latest training session or is he just too tense from the program today? Both feel too ridiculous for his liking right then.

Marc doesn't hear Valentino moving.

"Let's start with your right, it'll be easier on your arm," Valentino says behind him. Marc can feel the pull on his leathers as Valentino now holds onto the top part of them.

"I don't need to go easy on my arm," Marc bites back. It's too defensive. He can't bring himself to care.

Valentino doesn't answer but Marc can still feel the tension on his leathers and he accepts the help, slipping his right arm first into the offered hole of his sleeve and then the left, feeling the back of Valentino's hands against his shoulder blades as he finishes pulling the suit up around Marc's shoulders.

Marc takes care of zipping up his leathers and when he turns around, Valentino is three steps back, his helmet held between his hands.

Marc stares. A whole bunch of seconds too long.

"You're welcome," Valentino says. "Do you need to fix your hair first or can we go?"

[orchid-mantis-petals]

WHEN HOME BECOMES YOU CHAPTER 8

/ Hello!! HI!! I am so excited to drop this chapter it was so scrumptious to write.

/ As per the Poll (Which is now deleted) you loves asked for this Chapter tonight, I am here to give.

/ I forewarn, I have not proofread it this time. I am far too tired to try that tonight. So I will likely proofread and edit tomorrow AM.

/ As always thank you to @maximumkillshot for guiding and giving me ideas. And @taeminsung who is always quick to text me their reacts. Love you both!!

/ Last notes for now, I have a work schedule change coming up. Saturday will become the posting date for this fic. Baring any health complications I will update if there is a delay or of we're on track for the drop. This week will only have this chapter (Unless I get ballsy but with my flare up probably not). So without further ado here we go!!

/ Genre: ANGST, fluff, comfort, cuddles

/ Warnings: Blood (Reader and Bin), PTSD, panic attack, Screaming, crying, injury (Axel, and reader), wound care, SWEARING BECAUSE IM A FEIND (If I miss any comment below I'm very tired..)

/ Summary:

Changbin sleepily rubbed at his eyes as he followed the rest down to the vehicles. It wasn’t as though he slept. Your constant presence at his side that night just eased the tiredness that took time to come. Now he was sure once he was home he would fall asleep like the dead. He was polite enough to bow to the concierge on his way out. Outside the main lobby he shivered, the short sleeve shirt he brought with him wasn’t enough to keep him warm against the chilled air. Winter would make her own debut in the coming months. 

“Changbin, where’s your jacket??” Chan asked as he watched the younger shiver beside him. 

“I must have left it upstairs in Y/N’s apartment,” the group groaned. Most just wanted to go home and to bed after their long day ended so peacefully. 

Changbin sleepily rubbed at his eyes as he followed the rest down to the vehicles. It wasn’t as though he slept. Your constant presence at his side that night just eased the tiredness that took time to come. Now he was sure once he was home he would fall asleep like the dead. He was polite enough to bow to the concierge on his way out. Outside the main lobby he shivered, the short sleeve shirt he brought with him wasn’t enough to keep him warm against the chilled air. Winter would make her own debut in the coming months. 

“Changbin, where’s your jacket??” Chan asked as he watched the younger shiver beside him. 

“I must have left it upstairs in Y/N’s apartment,” the group groaned. Most just wanted to go home and to bed after their long day ended so peacefully. 

“Well hurry up Bin we’ll warm up the car,” Chan tossed the key fob to him he was thankfully alert enough to catch it before it fell to the floor. 

“Thanks!!” He stepped back inside the lobby and made sure he was quick to head up to your apartment. It felt like hours in his tired brain as he watched the elevator climb higher and higher until it finally dinged on the 8th floor. When he stepped off his feet dragged him to the familiar blank door that belonged to your home. He knocked once, twice, thrice with no answer. He heard sounds beyond the wood so he was sure you were awake. They hadn’t even left your garage yet. Not even two minutes ago he was wishing you goodnight with a gentle hug on the way out. It wasn’t until he heard your scream that he leapt into action.

Changbin was thankful to find your front door had yet been locked. Though he was sure he could force it open if he had needed to. There was no time for manners, not when his blood ran cold at the idea of you in pain. The short hallway that was your entryway didn’t yield any results as to why you had cried out so desperately. It wasn’t until he rounded the corner that he caught sight of you. The space behind your couch, just in front of the stairs. Quickly he came to join you. He only stopped when his sneaker crunched on something. At a closer glance he saw a shattered picture frame. The picture that once lay within was cut apart by the glass. There was no time for him to figure out why the photo and frame had such significance. Not when he could see the blood trickle down your hands, it pooled into the cracks of the floor below you. The jacket he left behind was now used to push aside the glass that lay around you. His goal was to protect whatever part of you he could. The sound of the glass drew your attention upward toward him. But in the glassy light your eyes gave off he could tell you were not with him. Your mind elsewhere, not a registered part of this world. 

“Y/n??” He called as he stood above you, not far off to your left he saw your cell phone. A call still counting up the time at which you were on with that person. He didn’t pay much mind to it any further, not when he felt your hand clasped around his wrist. He winced as the glass embedded in your palms scratched at his skin. His blood now mingled with yours as it dropped to the floor. 

“I promise, I promise to be good,” he was confused, what had you meant when you said you would be good. Had you been bad?? Had he done something to make you think you weren’t good or kind?? Your hand dragged his forward until it settled into your hair. You forced his fingers into a fist your hair caught in his palm. “See, I’m good..I’m so good. Please..I’ll be good if you stop hurting them..please..stop hurting them. I’m here..I’ll be good,” his breath left him fast at the sight of you on your knees like that. You begged for harm to befall you at the expense of another. Tears pricked at his eyes as you continued to beg him for something he wouldn’t dare give you. It was then he realized yet again, you were not here with him. Your brain had cast you into a vast hellscape. One that made him a monster to you, a monster more than willing to usher in pain, to make an example out of your misery. 

“Changbin, what’s taking-“ from the doorway he heard Felix but paid him no mind as he knelt in front of you with his hand letting go of your hair. He didn’t face the Australian, not when you needed him more. Felix called to you, but you didn’t respond. Your eyes locked with Changbin as the battle behind them turned into a war. 

“Felix, figure out who’s on the phone,” the young blonde nodded as he scooped up your device and moved to the kitchen to speak with whoever was on the other side. Changbin studied your face once more, small cuts across your cheeks had him worried glass had settled into more than just your hands. The streaks of blood wet with your tears as they continued to wash over the scratches on your skin. There was no spark in your eyes. No fire. Not in the ways he had come so used to seeing, not in the ways he’d slowly begun to love. Gently his hand soothed over your tangled hair, his aim to fix what his hand had messed up. Though he was careful to not add to the blood that was all over you. “My sweet Whimsy, it’s me. Changbin. Can you hear me??” His voice was so light so soft all he wanted was for you to come back to the world around them. 

“I'll never do it again. I’ll never leave you, just don’t hurt them. Don’t hurt anyone else,” Changbin stayed calm as you continued to beg for something that he’d never give. Something someone else had taken from you. 

“It’s okay Whimsy. Look me in the eyes. I am not who you are thinking of. I am not here to hurt you. Come back to me Whimsy,” his motions slow, delicate in regards to you. After a few minutes he could see some light come back to your eyes. “Sweet Whimsy, are you with me??”  There was a pause as you looked around the room, then down at your hands. 

“Yes..” your voice croaked with the effort to speak through the soreness he was sure you had in your throat. 

“Good, can I help clean you up??” When you nodded he slowly lifted you off the floor by your elbow and walked toward your bathroom. He looked to Felix, then to the mess on the floor in hopes the younger would understand what he was trying to ask. Your bathroom was small, but Changbin didn’t care. Not when you needed someone to help you. Not when you let him help you. Something all the boys had wanted to do for a very long time.. He settled you on the toilet with gentle hands before he set a towel on your lap to catch the blood that dropped from your hands. “Where’s your first aid kit??” 

“Under the sink,” he made sure you kept your hands still over the towel as he reached for the familiar white box that contained all first aid needs. He rummaged quietly as he sat on the edge of your bathtub. The tweezers were first. He apologized gently as he pulled each and every piece of glass from your palms and fingers. It startled him that you didn’t flinch, you barely registered each glass he pulled free from your hands. Occasionally he noticed a nerve pull the muscles, an involuntary reaction to what he was doing. Your control was scary. He began to wonder how many times harm had come to you?? How many times had you experienced pain at the hands of another?? “Bin??” He had stopped moving. Tweezers poised over your palms as he got lost in his thoughts. 

“Just seeing if any needed stitches,” he smiled kindly at you before he put away the tweezers. “This will hurt, I'm sorry,” he didn’t want to add more to your pain, but he knew the next part needed to happen if you were going to heal. Changbin decided to grab a towel close by and soak it in the alcohol rather than dumbing it into your open cuts. This way he had more control over the situation. One by one he cleaned the cuts on your hands and face. The only noise that was heard in the room was the soft rustling of Changbin as he began the process of bandaging your wounds and the soft sniffles you let out every so often. “Want to tell me about it??” Whatever this was, whatever had you, his kind and stoic Whimsy sobbing on the floor in terror was something Changbin wanted to protect you from. 

“I’m not ready. I am too afraid,” that was all you needed to say. Changbin understood, maybe not to the full extent. But he did understand the desire to process, gather and heal from it all before you spoke about it. He would give you time. As much time and desire as you needed. So long as you understood he was someone you could come to. 

“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” there was a knock on the bathroom door, Changbin didn’t miss the way you flinched and cowered away as it swung open. “It’s only Felix Whimsy,” he relaxed when you settled at the sight of the young blonde. 

“Hey there Starlight. Are you feeling better??” Changbin’s heart sunk when you shrugged your shoulders. He reached out to you and gathered you in his arms. 

“Let’s get you on the couch,” he laughed softly at your squeak when he lifted you with ease into his arms. When you tried to protest he only held you closer as he took the short walk from your bathroom to the couch. He was sad you didn’t cling to him like he saw women do in the movies. But he didn’t blame you either. Your hands had been cut apart, the delicate soft skin was sure to scar as they healed. He was gentle as he settled you onto the couch. Felix was right there with a blanket and your stuffed bear. 

“Starlight, I talked to Ivory,” there was panic that settled over your features. Changbin watched as your eyes darted between both of them. Your waterline turned pink as tears welled up in them. In one quick motion your knees came up to your chest as you looked down, your hair now blocked them from view. 

“Did she tell you??” 

“No, she said she had wanted to. But you would have been upset. I agreed with her,” both males relaxed when you did, your legs flattened out over the couch, the blanket wrapped tight over your body. “She did, however, recommend a detective here in Korea. She said he is an old friend of hers. She wants you to go see him. Begin the process of ‘finally filing that shit’ her words not mine,” Changbin felt his heart swell when you chuckled softly. Silence filled the room as both men made moves to get ready and go. Though Changbin hesitated with every single step. He didn’t want to leave you. In fact his entire body revolted at the idea of you here alone. He’d rather stay, rather keep you safe beyond just the care of your wounds. He was so unsure, so helpless in the idea of how to ask. He feared you would reject him if he had. That you would shut him out once more.. Just as they stood you snagged both their pant legs. 

“I-I don’t want to go alone,” you had reached out to them..Changbin would not turn you away. Not when you so clearly asked for his help. At one glance he realized his personal schedule was so full tomorrow. His help would have to wait. “But I want it done,” 

“I can go with you Starlight. Come to the Danceracha house tomorrow morning. I’ll go with you. Binnie has a big schedule,” 

“I’ll move it, all of it. For you Whimsy,” 

“Don’t you dare Bin. You’ve done more than enough for me tonight,” 

‘I will do so much more if only you’d let me,’ he thought. 

“You have NIZI tomorrow, Chan will need you more than I will. Lixie will be perfect company,” Changbin chewed on his lip but nodded as he let you win, this time. 

“I’ll keep my schedule if you promise to call me..” 

“I can live with that,” you smiled softly to them both, but he saw how it didn’t meet your eyes. He saw you fiddle with the frayed ends of your bandage. He’d stop you if he weren’t afraid he’d hurt you in the process. For now he settled with resting his hand over your knee. His hands were so calm as he drew your attention back to him. 

“I will be here if you need me,” the uncut pads of your fingers came to rest over his hand on your knee. He was thrilled you felt comfortable enough to reach out to them. To finally let them in, even just a little. “I am going to walk Lixie to the cars. If you’ll let me, I'd like to stay. Just to make sure you’re okay through the night. I can drive you to Lix’s dorm in the morning,” he watched your eyes dart around once more, he was sure you’d protest to the idea. But deep in his heart he hoped you’d let him stay. Whatever you wanted he would do. He would respect every choice you made.

“Please stay,” Changbin could tell it was hard for you to make this choice. Hard to let people in. In his head he celebrated, but outwardly he simply nodded and soothed over your hair once more.

“I will be right back Whimsy. Can I tell Chan what happened??”

“Yeah, I trust him,” that was all you needed to say. He let Felix say goodnight to you once more before he followed the young male out of the apartment. 

“Lix, are you doing okay??” he was gentle as he asked, they all knew the empath Felix was. While he could handle any situation with remarkable depth and strength, Changbin also knew how much of a toll it took on him. Softly he chuckled as the aussie sagged against his side. His own arm wrapped around the younger to keep him close as they watched the elevator tick down.

“I’m okay, tired, but okay. I just don’t want Starlight to suffer alone anymore,”

“Me either Lix. We just have to keep trying. Keep being there for her,” Changbin felt the younger nod into his side as the elevator opened. When it had he scooped Felix onto his back as he walked to the front entry. The effect was immediate, from his back the blonde laughed as he kicked his legs in time with Changbin’s steps. It was only when he was beside the cars did he set Felix back on his feet. From there the younger found refuge in Hyunjin. Changbin made eye contact with Chan as the rest began to pile into the car; he motioned the leader to come out and speak to him. 

“What’s up Bin, everything alright??” Once clear of the prying ears the other members had Changbin nodded.

“Y/N had a panic attack. She didn’t really share what was going on. But she was pretty upset. I asked to stay over, to make sure she sleeps okay,” Chan nodded, and Changbin didn’t miss the worry that flashed behind his eyes before he settled back into the calm collected look he always had when he was deep in thought. “I won’t be late to schedule tomorrow,”

“That wasn’t even a thought Bin. If Sandy needs you then we will make it work,” Chan looked back at the vehicles before he nodded. “I’ll leave one of the cars here for you to drive tomorrow. Just give Y/N a hug for me,” Changbin nodded, he didn’t comment on the nickname Chan let slip for you. He himself was far too tired and preoccupied with your well being to tease his leader. He’d save it for tomorrow, while they got ready for NIZI. He waited on the lobby stoop while Chan rearranged the cars. After it was all settled Chan handed over a set of keys before he gave Changbin a squeeze to the arm. “See you in the morning,” Changbin waved the others goodnight from where he stood before he wandered back inside and up to you. When he returned he wasn’t surprised to have found you had fallen asleep where he put you on the couch not even ten minutes earlier. As gentle as possible he scooped you up. Blanket, stuffy and all tucked neatly into his arms as he walked up to your bed. He was happy that you didn’t wake at all as he settled you into your bed for the night. Changbin gently tucked you in before he wandered away from your side. He wasn’t sure he would sleep at all the night, not when there was an obvious threat that loomed over your safety. Still, he knew you’d be upset if he didn’t try. Beside your front door he spotted a baseball bat, he wasn’t sure the purpose you used it for. But tonight it would stay by his side as he slept on your couch. The blanket Felix had originally wrapped you up in was left behind on the couch. With one last glance up at your loft Changbin settled in for the night. That said blanket now wrapped around himself, the familiar scent of your shampoo wrapped him in warmth as he drifted off into a listless slumber. 

“PLEASE!! STOP!!” Changbin was up on his feet before he could even register what had happened, the bat in his hand he checked the front door. Still locked and bolted. “I’M HERE DON’T HURT THEM!! TAKE ME!!” when he heard you cry out again he took off from the front door to your room. At the foot of your bed he watched you thrash under the blankets he so calmly wrapped around you mere hours before. In seconds he was at your side his hand soothed into your tousled hair.

“Whimsy, darling it's a dream,” he called to you as he waited patiently to wake up from the nightmare. It didn’t take long for you to shoot up out of bed and latch onto the front of Changbin’s shirt. “Hey, hey it's me, Changbin,” his voice was low, gentle, and calm as he spoke to you. He waited for you to figure out where you were. Your eyes darted around the room then came to meet his as you began to calm. “Hey there Whimsy,” 

“Hey,” you sighed as you let your hands drop from his shirt. His eyes never left your body, tonight had done enough to you. Yet all it wanted to do was take more from you with every given second. Changbin settled on the bed beside you, not too close yet close enough that if you needed him he was there. Silence fell over the both of you. It was comfortable, and clear as though it was meant to be. He waited until he felt you were calm enough before he stood up to go back down stairs. “Wait,” he stopped as you snagged the hem of his shirt. “Please don’t go,” 

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with me here?? I don’t want to overstep,”

“I am. I’m afraid to be alone. Please,”  he hadn’t meant for you to beg. Because he would give you anything you wanted when you wanted it. No questions asked. 

“Okay Whimsy,” after you settled down beneath your blankets he joined you on the other side of the bed. He tried to not take up too much space, it was hard with his size sometimes. Yet he still tried his best to not crowd you on the bed. Changbin wanted you to come to him, he didn’t want to push your boundaries. So he settled down beside you, his back rested against the silken sheets, he felt awkward and stiff. It was when you reached out to take his hand that he finally relaxed against your bed. His fingers wrapped in your as he turned to face you. “Sleep well Whimsy. I will be here by your side when you wake,” 

“Thank you Changbin. For everything,” he watched you sink into your blankets, your eyes half lidded as sleep dragged you under once more. The soft sound of your breaths evened out with your slumber is what eased Changbin to fall asleep beside you. His hand in yours, he knew from that moment on he’d protect you at all costs.

****  ****  ****  ****

New message: Ivory: Please go see Himora, I know he can help. Axel made it through surgery. 

TAG LIST:

@taeminsung @maximumkillshot @feybin @alex--awesome--22 @liknws @palindrome969 @newbbystay @highlydestiny

[envy-of-the-apple]

Idk maybe a yandere Connor "retires" by becoming a security/guard? Or maybe you're his new neighbor and he gets super attached

I see your security guard connor and i raise you bodyguard connor????? i don’t like the way this ended but im gonna kick this out before i spent like three years on a 500 word piece 

non deviant connor but he’s slowly becoming deviant

(Yandere, obsession, manipulation, creepy connor, implied non con) 

You wouldn’t really count yourself important. You were just lucky. Not everyone could say they were a child to some big head of Cyberlife. It gave you a lot of perks, as well as a lot of headaches, especially when your parent decided you were too unguarded. 

At least, you think that’s how the RK800 prototype found his way into your home. 

Connor, if you wanted to use his human name. He was a nice guy. Harmless. Mainly, he milled about your house, occasionally accompanying you on shopping trips whenever you obliged. 

He was nice, as nice as an emotionless android could be. 

You just wished he’d stop being so diligent. 

“You’re 49 minutes tardy from your approximated arrival time.” 

You resist the urge to sigh, knowing he’ll probably use whatever sensors he had to analyze it. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You say, as you take off your shoes, still not looking at him. 

Footsteps approach you, and you huff when Connor leans down, effortlessly taking your heels and neatly placing them next to the rest of your footwear. 

“You don’t have to do that,” You remind him, moving towards the kitchen. 

“You aren’t a household android.” 

“Your shoes are slightly damaged,” You can hear him say behind you, “They weren’t like that before.” 

“Oh,” You purposely tried to make yourself looking busy with a cabinet, “I went off the road for a bit.” 

He’s in front of you, and this time, you can’t avoid his eyes, scanning you. 

Fuck. 

“Elevated heartbeat, enlarged pupils.” He grabs your forearm. “Lingering signs of oxytocin.” 

His eyes narrow. 

“You had sex with someone.” 

The bluntness of his words make you advert your eyes. You wring your hand out of his grasp. 

“Could-Could you not say it like that?” You sigh, annoyance creeping into your voice, “Also, you don’t have to point it out like that. It’s social etiquette to not mention one night stands.” 

Still, your face feels hot, and you hope he doesn’t notice your flustered appearance. He does anyway. What kind of prototype would he be if he hadn’t. 

“Who?” He suddenly demands. 

 “Excuse me?” Your whirl around to face him. 

The android, of course, not understanding your words as a dare, repeats himself. 

“Who was it?” 

“I-okay.” You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I’m not answering that.” 

“You have to,” He insists, “I need to know who you’ve mingled with.” 

“Why?” You scowl, “It was no one important. Fucking drop it already.” 

“It’s very important,” Connor’s saying, “You could have been put in danger.” 

“Connor,” You sigh, tired, “I’m fine. I’m not some fucking teenager, I’m a grown adult. I can handle myself.” 

He’s shaking his head, “You can’t.” He’s saying, “You’re human. Weak. That’s why I’m here. To protect you.” 

You gap at him, not expected the blunt answer. There was no secret that androids and humans were a ways different, but this was the first time you’d heard a machine acknowledge it. They weren’t supposed to. And they sure as hell weren’t supposed to speak like that. 

“I’m tired,” You quickly ended the conversation, “I’m heading to bed.” 

He calls after you, but you don’t respond. You’re not running, not scurrying away, but your footsteps towards your room are with urgency. The door shuts behind you.

You’d call your parent tomorrow, tell them there’s no way in fuck you were keeping that thing in your house. Not when Connor was fucking malfunctioning like that. 

~

There’s a polite knock on your door. 

“May I come in?” Connor asks. 

“Are you going to apologize?” You respond. 

There’s a pause. 

“Yes, among other things.” 

You wait for a moment, but in the end, you relent. Connor is quick to slide inside, shutting the door behind him. 

You’re sitting on your bed, crossing your arms. 

“Well?” 

“I’m sorry,” Conner finally says. He’s, for once, not eager to look at you. Instead, his brown eyes are pacing around the bedroom, your walls, the ceiling. If he didn’t have the LED, a pulsing yellow, you would have thought he was human. 

“I realize, some things I stated were out of line. I apologize for that.” 

You nod, running fingers through your hair. Truthfully, you weren’t mad at him, you couldn’t be. Annoyed at most. Connor was probably malfunctioning. Some water must have gotten stuck between his wires. 

There was no other possibility of him of saying some of those things. 

“Yeah, I figured,” You say, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll probably have to take you to the shop someday.” 

He hasn’t left yet. Still standing. Still gawking. You’re about to asking him if he needed to ask something, when he’s cutting in for you. 

“I should have worded it better. It’s clear that you take offense to your fragileness.” 

You stare at him, shocked. 

Then anger-true anger-starts to boil. 

“Connor you-” 

“And I also realized that you have needs that you think I can’t satisfy.” 

You take a minute, trying to process what he just said. 

“What?” You say, void of anger. Your voice is quiet now. Muted. 

He’s smiling, looking at you. It isn’t the kind of smile you’re used to seeing on him. It’s not awkward, a mere replication he’s trying to mimic. No this time it’s real. Feral and filled with intent. 

He’s nodding, once again not realizing your question is rhetorical. Or maybe this time he does. And he’s mocking you with it. 

“Yes, I can.” 

He isn’t taking his eyes off you as he reaches behind him. 

The door clicks behind him. 

“You’re right. I’m not a household android,” Connor says, taking his first aggressive step towards you. 

“I’m better.” 

[pjisskullourful]

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 23 of ??? [parts 1-22]

NSFW🔥 for sluts only, nasty, kinky fuckery

° Damiano David/female reader insert  

wordcount::::  7,914 ° request ×3, anon& @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic wanted a bratty kitty getting punished, another anon wanted:  lots of aftercare and cuddles and cuteness 💋 thankyou for awesome/inspiring requests [requests are open! but commissions get priority, secure the 7th spot in my cue here!]

You removed your high heeled shoes during the elevator ride up to your floor - unable to stand their punishment for another second. Your night out with Max had lasted much longer than you had anticipated and the fatigue you were starting to feel was inevitable. You were more than ready to peel off your false eyelashes and stop feeling the pressure from the underwire of your bra.

It had been Max’s idea for the two of you to go out, because a gay club that she loved was closing down. This was being marked with a drag show, a huge amount of local performers coming out for their last time on this stage.

Prior to the show starting, you had taken a break from dancing with Max (and some new friends you were making) to message Damiano. He was currently home in Italy and you wanted to let him know not to wait up for you to come home, you were in party mode, you intended to have a damn good time.

Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. He had responded. I’ll just keep it to myself that I miss you.

Aw. I miss you too Daddy. You had enough time to send this message before you were grabbed by Max, taken to do some bright-coloured shots, with names that had gotten increasingly funnier as the night had gone on.

Then the show had begun - the music blasting as different acts took to the stage in varying styles. One drag queen performed Björk, another had six outfit reveals during the course of a single song. A Pokémon-themed number had made you lose your shit. There were drag kings in the mix. Some performers knew their lyrics better than others. You lost count of all of the times you saw someone do the splits.

With regular intervals, Max had made sure you had a glass of wine in hand for most of the night. During one of these times that she was gone at the bar, some of the friendly people you had met struck up a conversation, wanting to know how much of the show you planned to watch. When you had said that you weren’t sure (you and Max were just taking the night as it came), there was a scramble from all of them jumping in to give recommendations of which acts you had to see. They had given you close to the same line - ‘you can’t leave without seeing…’, each completing this statement with a different performer's name. You had agreed with all of their enthusiastic suggestions, ready to keep the night going.

Not long after that, you had received a new message from Damiano. I think I’m gonna go to bed, he had told you. You had exchanged ‘I love you’s and wished him sweet dreams. You checked the time before slipping your phone back into your handbag - 1AM.

About an hour later, another message came in: isn’t it past your bedtime? You hadn’t hesitated with your response: since when do I have a bedtime? He had soon sent something back: silly kitten, you don’t make or control the rules.

Before you could begin to work on your reply, Max had leaned in, getting your attention. “Should we head off soon?”

One of your new companions had heard this over the music and they jumped in to answer for you. “You can’t go yet. You’ve gotta see Glue.”

“Glue?” Max repeated, her brow in a deep crease.

They had elaborated, talking about how Glue was an amazing and unique drag queen. As you listened, you had returned your phone to the darkness of your bag. You made the decision to leave Damiano on read. It wasn’t polite, but you hadn’t felt bad about doing it. He was very keen on having you home with him, but if you made him wait, you could make him want you even more, getting you a more exciting reaction to your return.

Thinking about him calling you a brat due to this behaviour didn’t intimidate you or make you feel like you should change your tactic. If you were being a brat, it was because you could.

You had become thoroughly distracted when the show had started up again.

It had turned out that Glue was worth sticking around to watch. In a sparkly robe, with skull makeup painted on, she had been channelling a witch. There had been a lot of props on stage as she spent the duration of the heavy metal song theatrically concocting a potion, along with lip-syncing each lyric. The audience was brought into the act as she dusted her glittery potion upon spectators, as well as throwing toy frogs into the crowd.

But once she was finished, you hadn’t felt the motivation to head in the direction of the exit. You were still having a good time with Max and with no work responsibilities on the books for tomorrow, you wanted to keep soaking up this wonderful atmosphere.

“We’ll stay for one more song.” She had said to you.

At the end of the next performance, you had said the same thing to her. And it became a trend, the two of you sharing the phrase back-and-forth without showing any real interest in leaving the club.

It wasn’t until almost four o’clock that you followed through, both of you agreeing it felt like the right time to call it a night. Your ears were ringing when you had emerged onto the street, laughing at something she had said.

Then you parted, getting into different Ubers, with the promise to message one another once you were safely at home.

Sitting in the back of the car, you had opened your text conversation with Damiano again. When you hadn’t responded to the last message, he had sent a passive aggressive question mark. You didn’t acknowledge this, typing as if you were oblivious to the fact that you would be in trouble when you got home.

On the way home.

You hadn’t been surprised when his response came to you quickly, of course he hadn’t gone to sleep. You wondered if he had spent all of that time stewing while you had been dancing, cheering and laughing.

So you remembered how to get back here?

Some ways to respond had quickly come to mind as you looked at the screen of your phone. But you didn’t type out any words, you didn’t send him a single letter.

You had smiled to yourself, trying to guess at how many more spanks you had earned. Ignoring him would surely add more strikes to your overall punishment. Or maybe he wouldn’t get physical at all. You had considered this might be the time when he brought back writing lines, it felt like it had been a long time since he had taught you a lesson that way.

You unlocked the door to your home, certain that you still smelled like the club as you stepped inside. You had plans of fetching yourself a glass of water from the kitchen before seeking him out to face your consequences.

Immediately this was derailed. Because from your spot at the doorway, you could see straight into the lounge room, seeing that it was currently occupied. He was seated in the armchair, turning to look as you entered. Was he pleased to see you, relieved that you had made it home safely? You couldn’t tell, the only fitting word to describe his look was icy. He was already in character and it was time for you to catch up, to figure out how you were going to play it from here.

“Hey Daddy.” You greeted, approaching him.

“Hey yourself.” He said. He appeared mostly calm and collected, all of his simmering happening just beneath the surface. It was also the exact opposite of the energy that you had been surrounded by for so many hours.

“I thought you would be in bed.” You said. You stepped in front of the chair, it was close enough that you could have touched him, pushing his hair back from his face if you wanted to. But it felt like it would be incorrect for you to initiate the first touch.

“I couldn’t go to sleep while I’ve got something that needs to be dealt with.” He told you.

“Me?” 

“That’s right.” He said. “So you think that you can get away with ignoring me? No, you silly kitty, it definitely doesn’t work like that. Go and get your ass on the bed.”

You didn’t wait, at once following along with what he said. You quickly walked out of the living room, you weren’t drunk enough to stumble any of your steps. But you had had enough to drink that you were already feeling warm and giddy.

You dropped your shoes by the door and placed your handbag on the chair that faced your vanity table. You didn’t take any of your clothes off because you hadn’t been instructed to do so. You sat down on the unmade bed, facing the doorway.

He was soon coming in to join you. He walked in to stand at the foot of the bed, instantly enforcing his authority by looming over you. You looked up at him, feeling the titillating intimidation now.

He lifted his hand to your hairline, beginning to stroke his fingers through your hair, brushing nicely against your scalp. It was soothing and if not for the stony look on his face, you might have reacted with a smile.

“I hope your night out was worth it.” He said. “Honestly, I hope you had lots of fun, because from here on out, it’s gonna be…” His hand curled into a fist around your hair, tugging hard enough to sting as your head was forced further back. “...rough.” You clearly saw the fire in his eyes when he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “What’s your safe word?”

“Pumpkin.” You supplied instantly.

“Good girl. Don’t get too used to hearing that tonight.”

Your hunger was brought to the surface, allowed to be acted upon when his lips crashed against yours. His hand released your hair, moving to hold the back of your head as he sought a deeper kiss. Your hands went to his bare biceps, gripping onto him while his tongue was gliding into your mouth.

He pushed his body weight into you, resulting in you moving backwards until your back landed on the mattress. Without hesitation, and without breaking the kiss, he climbed on top of you. He massaged your tongue with his and you could feel how short of breath you were getting.

His arm reached around you, his hand going to the centre of your back. His fingers explored, refusing to settle in one spot. He ran his hand up-and-down your spine, his fingers grabbing at the material of your dress.

“Where’s the fuckin’ zipper on this?” He asked.

You took your hands off of him. “It’s on the side, here.” You found the tab and started to pull it down, loosening the dress.

“Oh.” He recovered from this fumble, getting the zipper the rest of the way down so that he could get the velvet dress off of you. He tugged it off of your hips and then you pulled your legs free. The next thing to go were your fishnet stockings. He made quick work of removing your bra and underwear. Now, in his cotton shorts, he had the most clothes on. You knew better than to try to get these off of him at the moment - you weren’t about to rebel against the dynamic he was establishing, you had done enough rebelling for one night.

He resumed his position on top of you, his forehead resting against yours as he came in close enough for a kiss. But this didn’t come. His eyes were fixed on yours while his hands explored your nakedness. It felt like your skin scorched in response to his touch, matched by the smoulder in his look.

“I’m gonna give you something that you absolutely cannot ignore. That’s how I’m gonna correct my kitten’s behaviour.” He told you.

You nodded as you licked your lips. But he continued to pass up the opportunity to kiss you, this time he moved off of you. He instructed you to go to the head of the bed, to lie as you typically would while he left the bed.

You watched him go over to the wardrobe, opening the door and looking to the spot where the box full of sex toys sat. The item that he wanted was seemingly at the very top, because mere seconds after looking inside, he was approaching the bed with a bundle of speciality rope. You saw the beginnings of a smile on his face, showing you how much he wanted to get started on this punishment - you doubted there was a single other thought currently occupying his mind. You felt like the centre of his world.

“Hands up to the headboard.” He said, he was unwinding the length of black rope as he got closer.

You lifted your arms up above your head, lining your wrists up with one of the metal rungs of the headboard. You could see the boner developing inside of his shorts as he kneeled on the bed next to you, spotting this was just another drop to add to the hot pool of desire between your legs.

He fed one end of the rope around the rung, the approximate middle of the rope’s length rested against the metal bar. With each half of the rope, he created loops around both of your wrists. His hands were soft, as was the rope as he worked. He brought your bound wrists together, securing them in position with a couple of knots.

“How is that, it’s not too tight?” He asked, checking the look on your face.

“It’s good, Daddy.” You said.

Satisfied with his work, he moved onto the next step of his plan for punishment - this took him back to the toy box. With no time wasted searching or digging through the other objects, he plucked out the vibrating wand he had gifted to you so long ago. He carried it over to the bed, where he sat down facing you. You squirmed in your anticipation, unable to prepare yourself when you weren’t sure what he was going to do next. There was a pause before he turned the vibrator on, during which your mind raced, trying to fill in some of these blanks.

He pressed the power button and selected the speed he wanted (it sounded fast). Your legs had already been lying apart, but he grabbed your ankle with his available hand and moved it, creating a larger gap between your thighs. Then his hand went to your cunt and he used two fingers to push your labia majora back. You felt a shiver when your moist clitoris was exposed to the cool air.

He didn’t give you any kind of warm-up, just putting the toy’s vibrating head to your clitoris and all thoughts were ejected from your mind. Your heart launched into your throat as surprise flooded you. You were weak in response to the power of the toy, so many sensitivities were sparked to life in the same instant, it was too much for you to keep track of. Your jaw went slack as you struggled to adjust to the intensity.

“I have a question for you, babygirl.” He said. You forced your eyes open, looking at him through your daze as you tried to catch your breath. “How do good girls come?”

It was hard to think and it felt like your nerves were on fire. The words didn’t come immediately and you just stared at him, probably looking stupid right now. “Um, with their master?”

“No. Try again.”

You weren’t confident that you had the answer he was looking for. “Loudly?”

He sighed. “No again. You get one more guess.”

“Am I in trouble if I’m wrong?” You asked.

“No, this really doesn’t affect your punishment.”

“Good girls come, um…” Your eyes went up to the ceiling, as if the answer was written somewhere there. “Good girls come when they’re told to?”

“Yes.” He said, easing the vibrator off of you. “You’re right, they get given permission to come. And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, because you wanna be a good girl, don’t you?” You copied him and nodded your head. “So no matter how much fun you’re having, no matter how amazing Daddy is making you feel- you won’t come until you’ve got permission.”

“Uh-huh.” You said. “I would say that we could pinky swear on it, but that’s not the easiest thing for me to offer right now.”

“That’s okay, I can just take your word on it.” He said and you saw the movement as he started to bring the toy towards your cunt again. “Your wrong guesses didn’t affect your punishment, but coming without permission will definitely get you into more trouble. You understand?”

After you had nodded, he returned the vibrating wand to your clit, filling you with all of that intensity all at once. As everything inside of you swelled, you tried to maintain what remained of your composure so that you could consider what he had just said, what you had agreed to. He was hinting at another level of punishment, which meant that he had thought of doing more than just overstimulating your clitoral hood. He wanted to do more than use your wand against you.

But could you handle that? If you went to that next level, would you rise to the occasion, or would you fold pathetically? You couldn’t be certain, leading the intimidation to beating your curiosity, especially given how rattled you already were by the toy.

You squeezed your eyes shut when he began to wiggle the handle of the wand, prompting the head to rub against you so that you were feeling the intensity from all angles. He was making sure the head was reaching every inch of this area, bringing sensitivities into it all. This made your body twitch involuntarily a couple of times as you felt yourself on that invisible incline. You tilted your pelvis, taking the stimulations in deeper.

He moved the toy off of you and you let out a shaky sigh. But you weren’t without the vibrations for long. Before you had time to open your eyes, he was training the head of the wand to the area just beneath your navel. You couldn’t help squirming, unable to calm yourself down while you were feeling the vibrations down to your knees.

You steadily blinked your eyes open and found him carefully observing you. He was watching your building reactions with all of the interest that he would give a well-crafted TV show. He was keenly aware of what he was doing to you, and what he would need to do to get you to the state he desired.

“Can I say sorry?” You asked.

You had surprised him and the pressure from the vibrator eased off a little. “Because you want me to stop?”

“No.” You quickly said.

“Good.” He said with a smile and he pushed the toy into your skin again. Twirling the handle, he had the vibrator rolling side-to-side along the curve of the underside of your belly.

“‘Cause I am sorry, I wanna apologise for ignoring you.”

“It’s okay.” He told you. “I know you’re sorry, that’s why you’re letting me punish you. That’s why you’re gonna take it for me.”

Before you could say anything more, he was distracting you by moving the wand down. He soon had it back on your clit, at once redirecting your focus. Your chest swelled as the vibrations affected you on an immediate level.

He didn’t hold it still, letting you feel it all over your clit as he stroked you with it. He manipulated it in waves and the friction that this gave you had you craving more. You arched your back, very interested in gaining greater pressure.

You got invested in this feeling and you began to move your hips. You tried to match his rhythm as you sought to discover just how much he would let you get away with. He didn’t discourage your rocking and it felt so much better to be in motion.

Before you could get too settled into this, he was taking it away again. This time the vibrating head was going downwards, moving onto your inner-thigh to pulse against the muscle here. He kept it high on the leg, about an inch from your crotch, as if to hint at what the toy could be doing for you.

You continued to feel the tingling of your clitoris as the anticipation for more lingered. He rolled it up-and-down each of your thighs with you keeping your legs spread for him. Under different circumstances, this would have been a relaxing massage - but it did nothing to calm you down as you felt more blood pumping into your cunt.

You let more of your resolve crumble as he set the wand between your labia again. The desire was an ache inside of you and your hands were shaking. The wet noises from your cunt accompanied how he moved the wand, stroking it up-and-down between your folds, encouraging the sensitivities to spread even further. Your moisture was shared all over your cunt.

You loved how it felt when he moved the wand to its lowest point yet, letting it rest at your entrance. Your puffy lips parted, conforming to the bulb-shaped head. Your head slumped back, a choked sob coming from you as you indulged in this new sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy getting all worked up like this. You’re taking it like the perfect toy and it’s driving me a little crazy.” He said, giving you a burst of pride. “Keep taking it for me.”

“I will, Master.” You whispered.

You grinded yourself down harder on the toy, dazzled by how this accelerated the passion inside of you. You wondered if this would be enough to get you off, if he left it there long enough as your hips enthusiastically stuttered in the air. It was promising and you would happily explore more of how it felt.

You weren’t surprised when he left you wanting more, the wand taken away. You drew in a shaky breath, letting go of your frustration over not being allowed to access that next level of pleasure. You were still being kept from becoming complete.

You felt his arm wrap around you as he moved in closer. This was so that he could press the vibrator against the small of your back, which wasn’t enough to distract you from how wet you were.

Your eyes opened at the feeling of his breath warming your face. He was looking down at you,  very amused by your current state. You could feel how much you were blushing, unable to hide your neediness with him staring straight at you.

You gave an excited whimper as his lips met yours. You savoured the feeling of him so close, letting yourself get a little lost in his kisses. Your fingers burned to be running through his hair, to get to experience more of him.

You were ecstatic when his hips met yours and you expressed some of your neediness in your movements. You were happy to get to grind against him, lining your slit up with his covered cock. You didn’t spare a thought to getting into more trouble for spreading your cum on his shorts. Because you were hardly aware of the fabric, just concentrating on how good this felt to be almost going through the motions of fucking. His tongue gliding into your mouth felt like an invitation to carry on.

The wand’s vibrating head moved down lower, with him guiding it onto your butt. He followed the line of your asscrack with it, inviting you to feel the vibrations in a new way, from an angle you would have easily overlooked. All of this served to get you feeling even hotter, adding to the tension that would need to be worked out of your pussy.

He didn’t stop moving the wand until he was almost at your entrance. Less than an inch from the hole, in this hidden spot, he held it. You were soon whining against his mouth, teased by the enduring almost of this moment. It was almost in the right place and it was almost enough to take you higher.

“Does that feel good, kitten?” He asked, giving it a little wiggle without letting it get any closer to your cunt.

“Uh-huh.”

“I know it does. But you’re not about to come without permission, are you?” He asked. “You’re gonna be a good girl and keep taking it for me. ‘Cause I’m not done yet.” You whimpered in response to hearing that. “I’m really not.”

You had stopped trying to grind yourself on his cock, now you were wiggling back onto the vibrator, seeking to get more from it.

But before you could truly tap into this potential, he was taking it away. At the same time, he was peeling back from you, shifting his body weight away. You kept your eyes shut, trying to gather yourself amidst this feeling of so many frayed nerves.

He was startling you out of your daze when he brought the toy to one of your nipples. Your legs flinched and you briefly sobbed, your whole system given a start. He pressed it against the hardened peak and it was like a white hot poker right to the core of your being. Your throat clenched as you struggled to comprehend this intensity. 

“Kitten…” He whined, making those two syllables go on for much longer. “All these noises, you’re just…” He placed the vibrator on your other nipple. “I was gonna wait to fuck you, but you’re making it… I can’t wait.” You raised your head, daring to hope that he was about to put an end to this torture, that he was about to let you progress. “You are making it literally too hard.” He turned the vibrations off and took the wand away.

You opened your eyes to find he was in the middle of taking off his shorts and briefs. You took in the sight of his freed dick, looking forward to something new. Your eyes darted from his face to his cock and back again as you decided that you didn’t have a preference over what he did next, you were simply enthused by the prospect of him making another move.

He settled himself down again, sitting off to the side of your knee, instead of climbing on top of you. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, instead of laying a single finger upon you.

You watched him start to jerk himself off and you were feeling a little dumbfounded because it didn’t look like he was prepping himself for you. It looked like he was comfortable in his current position, oblivious to you as he settled into his ideal pace.

His breathing was coming in heavier as he looked up at you. “Do you see, babygirl? Do you see how ridiculously hard you’ve made me?”

“I do.” You responded in a small voice.

“You’re so sexy that you’ve disrupted my plan.” He said. “But we can adapt.” With his available hand, he picked up the vibrator again. He switched it back on. “You get to enjoy more of your vibe while you watch.”

“Watch?” You repeated unhappily.

“Yep.” He moved a little closer so that he could reach you with the toy. Its buzzing head was brought to your pubic mound, immediately creating a pressure that couldn’t be ignored. “You’re gonna ride that edge a little longer for me, okay? Not too much longer, don’t get so pouty. Just a fraction more edging, that way you’ll be nice and grateful when I get you off.” You bit into your bottom lip as you thought about how much gratitude you could show if he let you come right now. “I said don’t pout. Now, you don’t have to smile, but you do have to tell me that you’re still down for this and that you want to finish your punishment.”

You did your best to draw in a deep breath. “Please punish me more, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Hearing him say this was just as soothing as having him caress your forehead - it was a little inspiration to keep at it.

He had the wand steady, pressing it right up against your pubic bone. You squirmed through the building sensitivities, feeling the threats to your resolve from every possible angle. It seemed like all of your body was attuned, a desperate harmony that cried out for the climax.

You couldn’t help moaning as those consistent vibrations kept you so weak, kept promising more. And you watched as he chased for his own serving of more. His hand kept at his dick, starting to draw wet sounds. As he worked, his hips moved, with him going deeper into his tempo. His eyes were darting all over your body, not wasting a single piece of inspiration.

The clenching of your inner-walls felt pathetic, even though you couldn’t help it. You were stuck with just recalling the feeling of that cock driving into you as deeply as you needed it. You watched the motions of his strokes, imagining how it would be to have your pussy stroking him instead. Before too long you were lifting your hips, rocking into the relentless wand. You weren’t trying to match his speed, but you craved movement, you needed to get some of this energy out.

“Fuck…” He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he got faster in his rhythm.

Your eyes locked onto his tip as you saw how it started to leak. You put more power into your hips, feeling yourself getting closer as you bought more into the fantasy of fucking, getting caught up in the sensations that typically came with it.

“I’m close.” He said. “Can I have your mouth? Please let me shoot into that pretty mouth.”

“Yes, Master.” Having him in your mouth was the next best thing to having him in your cunt. You were craving his taste.

He stopped caring about the vibrator and you didn’t lament losing its pulsations. He took his hand off of his dick as he came toward you, figuring out his next move.

“I’m not gonna untie your hands.” His voice had lost most of the earlier harshness.

“Okay.”

“But I’ll hold this hand.” He said, placing one of his hands in yours now that he was close enough. “And you give me three squeezes if you need to breathe.” You were nodding as he got into position over your face, placing his knees on either side of your head. “Or you can just give me a kick if it gets too much.”

You didn’t refuse any aspects of his advances, just opening your mouth as you loosely wrapped your fingers around his hand. With him so close to your face, you were given the scent of his pure lust, a hint at what was to come. You extended your tongue over your row of bottom teeth, watching as he shifted and secured his balance.

He angled his hips and brought the head of his cock down to your tongue. He was looking into your eyes as he moved his shaft down your tongue, your saliva mixing with the moisture that was already coating him. He moved for the warmth of your mouth and you obediently wrapped your lips around him.

You could feel how he was throbbing as he eased more of his length into you, his eyelids beginning to flutter. He didn’t go all the way in, not striving to overwhelm you straight away.

His hand held yours a little tighter as he pumped forward, then back again. He worked himself back-and-forth, your slicked lips rubbing him as he established the tempo that suited his needs. You stayed with him, all of his reactions adding to the arousal that dominated your experience.

He was soon using your mouth almost as quickly as he had been moving his hand. You kept your cheeks drawn in as he locked into his goal. You weren’t craving your own stimulations, that had faded from importance, his climax clearly more significant. The pleasure that you derived came from being used, came from being exactly what he needed right now.

“Fuck…” He moaned.

His available hand reached down, collecting some of your hair between his fingers. You were feeling the extra warmth in your mouth as his dick started to leak more consistently.

“Make me come and I’ll give you the next load in your pussy. We’ll come together, okay babygirl?”

You had to find a way to agree that wouldn’t require you to take him out of your mouth. You sucked your cheeks in more, willing to sacrifice your ability to breathe easily for the moment. You also lifted your tongue to press against the underside of his shaft as he kept at this pacing.

The wet insides of your parted thighs twitched as you felt the burning desire to watch him fall apart. You could tell that he was getting close to losing himself when his hips unpredictably jutted forward a few times.

“Mmn, mmn…” His whining was getting louder as he grinded harder into your face. His eyes squeezed shut as his chest expanded and the hand holding your hair gripped tighter. Your world froze as you watched, desperate to see him move into that ecstasy.

He threw his head back as his body weight rocked forward. The cum surged into your mouth, heavy drops sliding straight down your tongue and into your throat. You kept your lips tensed around him as his half-coherent moans filled the room.

You began to move your tongue against him, making something of an effort to clean his dick. He let go of your hair, but his hand in yours squeezed. You massaged your tongue all over the shaft filling your mouth as he steadily caught his breath.

“That wasn’t how I planned it.” He said, withdrawing over your messy lips. “But you just…” He moved off of you, putting his butt on the mattress. “With every noise that you were making, it had me questioning why I was working so hard to keep control, ‘til I got tired of not having an answer.”

You had thoroughly licked your lips, but you could feel how wet the immediate area around your mouth still was. You turned your head, bringing your face to your elevated arm. You used your bicep to wipe off the lower half of your face, rubbing back-and-forth. When you were done, you saw a couple of streaks from your purple lipstick mixed in with the combination of spit and cum.

You didn’t hesitate to set your tongue to work cleaning this up. His cum was the beginning of your reward and you wanted to savour every bit of it. You heard his little excited gasp when he noticed what you were doing - all without being asked to do so, you were feeling very much like a good girl. You enjoyed having his taste coat your tongue for a while longer.

“Should we revise what you learned earlier?” He asked.

It took you a moment to realise what he was hinting at. “Good girls come with permission.”

“Uh-huh, and are you ready for your permission?” He asked, moving closer.

“Yes, Daddy.” You said, your breath coming in faster as he climbed on top of you, this time placing his body over yours. “Yes, Daddy.”

He kissed you, undeterred by the taste of his own cum. The time spent without the vibrator hadn’t seen any dulling of your desires. Just because you’d had the chance to catch your breath didn’t mean you were any less turned on than you had been when he was in the middle of punishing you. All of those sensitivities lingered, just waiting to be rediscovered by him.

You remained so close to that edge, exactly where he wanted you. Your whimper was muffled by his lips when the head of his hard shaft began to spread your swollen pussy open.

So much of your body was attuned to his movements that you were feeling it beyond your cunt when he moved in deeper. It seemed like every fibre of your being had been awaiting this penetration.

“You look so good like this.” He said in a husky whisper as he started to rock his hips into yours.

“You think that I look good takin’ that dick?” You sought to clarify. “I’m glad.”

“That goes without saying, babygirl. I meant how pretty you look with your makeup all ruined and running.” He said as his eyes moved across the features of your face. “You looked hot all made up at the start of the night, you always paint yourself to perfection. But there’s somethin’ about how you look right now- unf, it’s doing things to me.

“Your lipstick is absolutely destroyed. All that pretty shadow under your eyes is streaky, so much is smeared. And it’s beautiful. And it’s the perfect representation of how much I’ve corrupted you. I can see through the facade, I can see how much you’ve let me ruin you.” He said. “And it’s so sexy, it’s so…”

You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, bringing him in closer as you tilted your pelvis. “Corrupt me more, I want more.”

He picked up speed, spending more time buried deep into your cunt. “I will, oh I fuckin’ will, I will, I will…”

He got faster again and it became difficult to think amidst all of the sensations that his persistent thrusting was stirring up. Your walls spasmed and clamped around him, with every collision feeling better than the one that preceded it.

You shut your eyes as your whole body felt full of tingles, pulsing in your desperate state. Your hands were shaking and it was consistently getting harder to hold back the overwhelming conclusion.

“Please.” You burst out, ready to give in to your monumental orgasm.

“Yes babygirl, yes.” He moaned, his stamina remaining as he finished you off with some more pounding. “Come for me, come.”

You cried out in relief, so glad to let it all go. As you were moving into your perfect moment, the clamping down of your cunt was enough to take him over his own edge. Buried deep inside of you, this new wave of cum was unleashed.

All that you could do was go limp, you were spent in every sense of the word.

“Oh my fucking God.” You gasped as you finally felt him loosening the rope around your wrists.

“How do you feel? Are you alright?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.

You opened your eyes to find him looking you over with eyes full of concern and you wanted to get rid of that as quickly as possible. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m- I’m alright.”

“Good girl.” He said, giving you a kiss on the forehead, reinforcing the fact that the scene was over. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can get you, yeah?”

“Mm-hm.”

He let out a deep sigh. “I think I need a cigarette after all of that.”

You drew your arms and legs up to your torso as you continued to work at catching your breath. You were still feeling overwhelmed, you didn’t know how to even begin coming down.

In the process of finding his pack of cigarettes and lighter, your inactivity had caught his attention. He walked back over to the bed. “Hey, how are you feelin’?”

“I- I’m alright.” Your mouth felt dry as you talked. “I just-... it can wait ‘til you come back from your smoke.”

He sat down beside you. “No, no waiting, tell me now.”

You couldn’t explain it but there was a shyness that you felt as you gradually lifted your eyes up to his face. “Can I have cuddles?”

“Fuck yes you can have cuddles.” He said as he quickly laid down with you. He scooted his body in closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Yes, this is perfect. I like how safe I feel in your arms.”

He was gently stroking your hair back from your face, moving the strands to rest behind your ear. “That’s good because you are safe in my arms. You’re safe…” He kissed you on the cheek. “You’re valued…” He kissed your other cheek. “You’re respected…” He switched back to the other cheek, but this time his kiss was placed much closer to your lips. “You’re understood…” He mirrored another kiss. “And you are fucking adored.”

His next kiss went directly onto your lips. You shut your eyes, caressing his cheek as you enjoyed a subtle warmth blooming in your belly. You marvelled at how fast he could help you feel less unsettled in your own skin.

“And if you’re not feeling all of those things, then I’m not doing my job as your dom.” He said.

“It’s not that I don’t feel those things. It’s just such a big rush of emotions and the crash after the adrenaline- I guess it caught me off-guard. And the alcohol probably doesn’t help all of that.” You said.

“How much did you have?”

“Uh…” It felt like you were looking back further than just a few hours ago. “Three glasses of wine and some shots.”

His eyebrows raised. “Some shots?”

“I don’t remember specifics, Max was buying them.” You said. “But one that we had was called a purple nurple.”

“And was it nurple-y?” He teased.

“Um, it was purple.” You said. “Anyway, my point is that me getting discombobulated is not a failing on your part. Maybe I just need a little extra aftercare tonight.”

“Awesome. You know that I’m always down for aftercare, I’ll aftercare you into next week. As much fun as I have during our scenes, I wouldn’t rank that time above this.” He said as he traced his fingers up-and-down your spine. “I love getting to take care of you and nurturing you like this- it’s honestly so good for me too. I like the feeling of us restoring the balance.”

You didn’t doubt that he meant what he said, but you still sought another piece of validation. “You like it so much that you don’t mind me keeping you from a cigarette?”

“My pet is far more important than any cigarette.” He said.

“Because I’m cuter than a cigarette?”

This earned you a chuckle from him. “Yes. On the long, long list of things that you are cuter than, is cigarettes.” He gave you another kiss. “Was there another part of aftercare that you had in mind, or are you only about the cuddles?”

“Actually, can you do me a favour?” You asked, prompting him to immediately nod his head. “On my makeup table, it should be out with the other stuff- can you get the box for these lashes?” He started to sit up. “I’m desperate to take these off. It feels like butterflies have landed on my eyes.”

He walked over to the disorganised mess that was your makeup table. “Well they look very pretty and they didn’t move a single inch.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I made sure I glued that shit down properly.” You said. “Do I really look like the kind of chick that would go to a drag show with a wonky eyelash?”

“No, you do not.” He said, returning to the bed with two things in hand. He showed you the pack of face wipes. “I figured I could help you take the rest of the makeup off.”

You were pulling one of the false eyelashes off of your lid as you sat up. “Thanks, but I’m probably better off just having a shower ‘cause I’m gonna need coconut oil to get this eyeliner off, it’s the heavy-duty shit.”

“Should we shower? I’ll cuddle you in there too.”

The two of you went into the bathroom. While he was getting the shower water to the perfect temperature, you stepped up to the mirror to inspect the makeup he was so taken by. Immediately you were laughing at what you saw. You were such a mess, it appeared that you had been partying for days, or that you had started trying to wipe your makeup off, only to get bored and fall asleep not even halfway through the process.

You commented that you didn’t understand how he could call you beautiful in your current state, a fucking dumpster would look more put together than you. At that he had rushed to your side, kissing you on the cheek before launching into an explanation of how your natural sexiness shone through. It seemed that he had an endless amount of sweet words to tell you, ready to counter all of your self-deprecating statements.

He was still talking when you stepped into the shower with him. Under the pleasantly warm stream of water, he took the lead in removing your makeup. You held the jar of coconut oil and he dipped a portion of the washcloth in, tenderly wiping this across your face, one section at a time.

“Can I tell you about my night?” You asked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to get the full story. You sent me, like, two Snapchats when you first got to the club, then nothing.”

You did your best to keep everything in chronological order as you shared what you had experienced within the doors of Honcho. You told him about the best drag performances, sharing details of the outfits and repeating any funny comments you had made at the time. You described the friendly people you had met (becoming mutuals with a couple on Instagram) and you explained how you had been convinced to stay so late.

“I’m sorry, I just wanna make sure I heard you right…” He cut in. “Did you say Glue, this queen was named Glue, that’s the whole name?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You said. “Do you not like it? I love it, it’s hilarious.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just really random.”

“That’s what’s so great about it. So you wouldn’t go the silly route if you were picking a drag name?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Nuh-uh, I think my drag name would need to be something super slutty.”

“‘Cause you’d be-”

He started talking in the same second, your words somewhat synchronising. “Because I would be a slutty queen.”

“-a slutty queen.”

He smiled at that. “Ah-ha, so you’re familiar with my work?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you on stage two or three times, I guess.” You joked.

You started trying to come up with the perfect name for his drag queen alter-ego, brainstorming aloud. You attempted to combine the word slut with common names and he joined in. You were both laughing as the practice seemingly became a competition to come up with the dumbest thing.

»»————-　♡　————-««    

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[juneknight]

Good Fences // 1

June finish a WIP challenge…but eh, I go where the hyperfixation leads.

You had escaped your mother’s abuse years ago when you moved out from her flat, but the woman’s failing health and an injury have brought you back into her clutches as you are guilted into caring for her.

The neighbor in the flat next door though—he is a welcome distraction.

About this: fem!reader/MK system. Features ableism, references to childhood abuse, current abuse both mental and physical from a parental figure. More acute warnings will be included with later drabbles.

Immersivity: reader is an unnamed, undescribed cis woman. Her mother is also described minimally, though descriptions about the frailty that comes with aging are used. If you see any other details which hinder your immersive experience, please feel free to point them out to me.

*

*

You come home on a Sunday. It is a bright day for the typical gloomy London, but you imagine that it is only because all of the gloom has packed its way inside you, inside the little apartment building downtown, inside the hallway on the top floor where you stand outside your mother’s flat, the flat where she had raised you. The sight of the door alone gives you nausea. You know that she is in there, that she is injured, that the only reason the hospital let her leave when they did was because she told them you were coming home, that you would be caring for her day and night. She needs you.

You wish that her fall had broken her neck instead of her leg. You wish that it had killed her. But Billy Joel said that only the good died young, so your mother’s mortal persistence makes universal sense.

Down the hallway, the elevator doors open. You turn, pressing your back against the wall, heart pounding. Somehow, you are convinced that it will be her, that she is trying to creep up on you. It makes no sense—not when you know that she is basically bedridden—but the fear persists. Suddenly, you are a child again, pressing your back against the wall as she approaches, hoping to slip through a crack in the plaster and disappear before her wrath can reach you—

But all you see is a tired, handsome man who is struggling to put his key is his lock. Your mother’s neighbor in the apartment next door. He seems flustered, perhaps feeling your eyes on him—definitely feeling your eyes on him, as you see him shoot you a cautious, curious glance. When he sees you looking at him, he drops his keys and has to stoop to pick them up, his smile bashful.

“Hullo,” he says mildly.

Your mouth opens to return the greeting, but then the door behind you opens and you feel her. She has a presence like that: one you feel before you see, one that you can feel sometimes in the dead of night even after moving across the country to get away from her.

“There you are,” she says. “Plan to stay out there forever, do you?”

“No ma’am,” you mutter. You take her in for the first time in years: there is a frailty about her, one which belies the strength you know she must still possess. Her mouth is made for frowning, lined deeply, eyes bloodshot and hateful. You have her eyes. You know you do. On her foot is a boot, helping to support her fractured ankle as it heels. It makes a sound as she hobbles out of the apartment just a foot, neck craning to see what has you so interested.

Her eyes alight on the neighbor and then positively burn with hatred that makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

“You,” she says through her teeth.

“Good morning, ma’am,” the man says mildly, though his politeness is obviously forced.

“Don’t speak to me, you devil! Don’t speak to my daughter either,” your mother says, reaching out to grip your shoulder and jerk you towards the open door of the apartment. She says to you, none-too-quietly: “Stay away from that man. He’s a madman—he’s got that split personality disorder, like you see on the telly.”

You glance to him, looking for him to refute this accusation, but all he does is make a long-suffering expression, like he is much used to your mother.

“They don’t call it that anymore, ma’am, remember?” he says, thrusting his key into the door with perhaps a little more force than necessary. “I know your brain is soft like an old, over-ripe fruit, but—”

“Bastard,” she shouts. “I’m going to the building manager first thing in the morning to have you thrown out of here for good, do you hear me? For good!”

“Best of luck,” he says cheerfully. His gaze drifts from the hateful old woman to you, and you have the feeling that he is talking to you as much as he is snarking at her. When he smiles to you, it is soft and genuine, his fingers lifting to his temple in soft salute. You know right then that you don’t care if he is a madman in your mother’s eyes. There is kindness in him, a quality which means more to you than any other.

Then your mother has managed to pull you inside and shut the door on the last bit of light left in your day.

[15minlatewithbatbucks]

untitled janet/talia, Bruce's bio kid Tim AU -> no choice but to love you pt. 5

Janet didn’t know what looked worse for her: bringing a boy that looked extremely familiar to see Bruce Wayne or the bag she had thrown over her shoulder that was clearly a mommy tote bag. It was packed with water and snacks and all the color books Tim could reasonably fit in it (seven, with one of them being a jumbo edition that boasted over 100 pages of activities).

In her defense, Tim tended to warm up best when talking to strangers if he was given something to do with his hands. He’d bonded with many of his early education tutors over a mean session of coloring. He could clearly write his alphabet and the names of everyone in his family when asked. If he didn’t have to look away from his coloring, he could ever recite the addresses of both their town home and Jack’s office as well as Janet and Jack’s phone numbers.

It got easier to get him to talk, but until Tim felt comfortable Bruce was just going to have to deal with it. She already had plans of setting Tim up over on the sofa near Bruce’s little in house coffee bar. He’d be close, but the adults could still speak.

The truth was coming out and they had to get their stories straight.

The man behind the front desk was the same today and his eyes lingered on Tim for what felt like an eternity as Janet approached. Before his attention could become too noticeable, he smiled at them both, just as warm as the day before. Gratefully, Janet greeted Ron by name and he took pleasure in making a little event out of making Tim his own visitor’s pass.

The little boy’s smile was blinding as he helped arrange the sticker just so on his little plaid button up.

“What do we say, Tim?” Janet reminded, smiling as he ran his fingers over the front of his shirt and the sticker in lines.

“Thank you, sir,” he supplied, not looking up, but flashing a gap toothed smile. He scrubbed his fingers over the rougher texture of the cloth and smoothed them with the smooth glide over the sticker with apparent delight.

“No problem, little buddy,” Ron assured him. “That’s a polite boy you have there. Did you need the whole spiel again, Mrs. Drake?”

“No, I think I can remember,” she said, smile dimming. It was almost pathological the way she wanted to break down and ask what he thought about a strange woman arranging a sudden appointment with Bruce Wayne only to show up with a child the next day. She was desperate to know what people were thinking, how they were judging her.

Her life was going to be a terrible cliché from here on out.

Janet wished him well and Tim waved as she took him by his free hand and led him to the elevators.

“Mommy? Um, Mom, I mean,” Tim said in stops and starts, peering up at her. He’d unfortunately taken it to heart when Jack told him that big boys didn’t call their parents Mommy or Daddy. “This isn’t Da-. Um. This isn’t the office.”

Janet hitched her tote bag higher on her shoulder and wished again that frantic web searches at 3am were more helpful. Tim wasn’t deaf; he’d definitely heard Jack yelling that Tim wasn’t his son and had obviously readily internalized the information.

It didn’t help that Jack had staunchly refused to even look at Tim since.

“Remember what I said in the car, baby? About Mr. Wayne?” she prompted and Tim’s little face scrunched up in thought. It may have been all of fifteen minutes ago, but if Tim had been distracted by anything while she was talking, the conversation was as good as lost to the sands of time.

“He works here?” he guessed, still a little mystified as Janet herded him into the elevator. It was thankfully empty.

“Yes he does. His office is all the way at the top,” she explained. “And he’s your dad. Remember?”

“There was an oopsie where babies come from,” Tim remembered. “And instead of- And my dad is actual someone else.”

“Pretty big oopsie,” Janet agreed. “I’m sorry, Timmy. It’s not fair.”

“It’s okay,” he patted their joined hands. “I’m sorry Daddy, um. I’m sorry J-Jack is mad.”

Janet wanted to scoop him up and assure him that none of this was his fault, but the elevator was already sliding open on their destination. Stepping off, Janet was startled to see Emma already looking their way eagerly. She seemed, if possible, in higher spirits than yesterday. She wondered what Bruce told her.

[hanayori89]

A Game of Politics

*The Palace of Twilight*

Link's lips were puckered against the back of your hand. The gentle sound of his kisses trailing up your arm made you come alive in a way you had never experienced before.

Is this what it feels like to be alive? To have every breath within you finally make sense?

He stopped kissing you for a moment. His blue eyes were darkened by the shadows of your room. But even the darkest of shadows couldn't cocoon the desire brewing in his gaze.

He continued diligently kissing your skin until he hit your shoulder. He murmured something against your flesh as he gently slid his fingertip down the entrance to the labyrinth of Twili markings that embellished your skin.

"Link, I feel..." Your voice was unrecognizable amongst yourself. There were traces of yearning within it. Yearning you have never portrayed before. Was this...pleasure? Was this what the interlopers stole from you?

Now Link was here. And he was going to reward you with it.

He was going to reward you with what it meant to live within the light.

Link took your face in between his hands, and with a faint whisper into your lips, he demanded. "Tell me how you feel."

"I feel..." You didn't dare close your eyes. You latched your gaze into his. His lips lingered above yours.

"What do you feel?"

Your eyes shot open as you saw the curiously hard eyes of Midna. Your heart rate was still elevated from the steamy dream of Link.

"Midna..." You couldn't meet her eyes. You could feel yourself squirm around in the bed you were in. The sheets and quilt were not as comfortable as Link's, which you've grown oddly accustomed to.

Midna gave you a reserved smirk. Her voice was a sardonic shell of itself. "Welcome home."

She began her familiar pacing, as she did during her lectures. You recalled Zelda doing it at Hyrule Castle. How similar they both were, even in the most circumstantial ways.

"Well, I suppose the goal is for this to not really be your home anymore, is it? This saddens me, Y/N. You're very special to me. Whether you realize it or not."

"Midna," you began, excited to speak in normal Twili once again. "How did I get back here? I tried to talk to you the other night and-"

"I summoned you." Midna's voice was sharp in the overbearing silence of the room you were in. Silence dominated much of the Realm of Twilight. When you first made it to the light, you found the constant chatter vexing. Now the familiar silence you were beginning to miss was uncomfortable. Foreign. As if you never really resided within it.

"Y/N, I am worried about your disillusionment with the light. You are beginning to remind me of... " Midna's voice drifted away in thought.

"Who? Midna, what is going on? Why did you tell me there was only one shard from the Mirror of Twilight? When did you know Princess Zelda had one? Why did you lie to me?" You stood, your bare feet touching the cold palace floor.

"Now you summon me back, claiming I am disillusioned. I didn't even get to say goodbye to Link!" When you said Link's name, you heard your voice waver. You felt the same burning within your eyes that had happened at Lake Hylia. Only now have you understood the emotion attached to it. You were going to cry.

Midna sauntered up to you, taking you cautiously within her arms. Much like a mother would console an upset child. Midna was, after all, the only mother figure you had ever known. She could be rigid at times, but only because she kept your best interests at heart. Now that you've returned from the light, you've decided it's much deeper than interests. Her rigidity was also a form of protection. These demons, known as emotions, kept their realm at bay. She patted your back as you felt the tears dribble down your face.

You wished Link was here to wipe them away.

Except he was busy kissing Ilia. The memory of the kiss between them was now prevalent in your mind. You began to cry harder.

"Midna, what's wrong with me? Why is the light doing this to me?" You wept in her arms.

"I meant it when I said we could never be part of their realm. For good reason. I too felt this sensation when I had to leave. "

"What sensation?"

Her response was reluctant. "The breaking of my heart."

You held your breath for a moment. Did Midna know she was in love with the hero of Twilight? How could you have fallen for the same trap?

"Then why don't you use your shard to visit Link?"

Midna let out an almost grating laugh. "Who said anything about the hero?"

Your tears were cut short by relief. "You're not in love with the hero of Twilight?" You asked with astonishment.

"I regard the hero dearly. He is also very special to me as a human. I meant..." her face dense with emotion, "Zelda."

"I don't follow..."

"Zelda is like my sister. My love and admiration for her run deep. She made me the ruler I never thought I could be. Teaching me diplomacy and unconditional love for my people. For her. That is why she carries the other shard. So that we may always be connected. " Midna paused for a moment before continuing her clarification. "I do not travel to the Realm of Light because it is too risky. It leaves room for a negative entity to travel within the realms. We both agreed to not do this because of the risk it would pose. The love of our kingdoms must always come before our love."

"Then why let me go?" You asked in outrage. "Why let me welcome such a threat to both realms?"

"Because your conversion is essential to what could save our realms."

"Midna! I'm tired of the secrets! What are you trying to say?" You demanded with an aggressive stomp from your foot. "You didn't even know I left with the intention of conversion. Which, I apologize for my deceit. I was afraid if I had asked to convert, you'd never have let me go. "

Midna let out a defeated sigh. She knew she could keep things a secret no more. Especially if what she suspected was at stake. Midna held the shard that was still looped around Y/N's neck. Zelda. You must tell Link.

You watched Midna hold the shard and keep her head bowed in concentration. You knew she was saying something to Zelda.

Midna began to walk, disappearing before your eyes. You knew she was going to her study. You quickly followed suit, transporting yourself in the same manner. You appeared in Midna's study. Midna was already seated on her iron throne in wait. She held her hand out, inviting you to take a seat.

"Y/N... sit down. There's something you need to know."

*Hyrule Castle*

Link stormed through Hyrule Castle. Val and Fabian were nipping closely at his heels.

"M-Master Link, Zelda has a council coming up with-"

"Zelda!" Link howled as he pushed open the doors to her study.

Zelda stood picturesquely by her bookcase of Hylian scripture. Link growled," Zelda, where is she?"

"Who?" Zelda asked, feigning curiosity. Her eyes never left the book she held open.

"You know damn well who!"

"Link you really must control your outbursts. It is not befitting of a hero." Zelda slammed the book she was reading shut with a sigh. "Y/N is safe. You can take comfort in that."

"Where is safe?"

"The Realm of Twilight." Zelda's unconcerned behavior was starting to infuriate Link. Zelda casually strode past Link to the doors of her study. She shut them, turning to Link with a critical expression. "Midna has requested that I speak with you."

"Is she alright? Will she be coming back? We haven't even gone to the Arbiter's Grounds yet to begin her conversion. I saw her." His voice was overflowing with self-deprecation. "I saw her fall, and I couldn't go to her. "Link's fists shook at his sides. The overwhelming disgust he felt with himself could not be contained.

"I didn't protect her. I failed her." Link slammed one of his fists into the wall in fury. The impact of his knuckles on the castle wall didn't even make him flinch. "Now Ilia and Mayor Bo are pushing this wedding up around his election to secure his win. It feels like everything is going wrong."

Zelda remained stoic in the heat of Link's tantrum. She strolled past Link to a specific bookshelf. Link watched her eyes scour the shelves for a specific title. Once she found it, she gently tapped it with her index finger before retrieving it from the shelf. She walked up to where Link stood by her desk. She plopped the book down amongst her piles of unread documents. A dust bomb erupted from the sudden drop of the book. Link looked at the title, which read, A Game of Politics.

"Let me explain something to you as a politician. The masses are either with us or against us. Since the tragedy that befell Ordon during the Ganondorf invasion, it seems Mayor Bo's popularity has fallen. It isn't a secret that this betrothal is a calculated maneuver to regain the confidence of the villagers. At least, not to a politician's eye."

Politics is where Zelda really seemed to shine in the eyes of Hyrule. She was able to display a genteel nature even through the most abominable of debates. Her intuition also lent her a helping hand when it came to seeing through the facades of many politicians. In short, there was a reason she was the wielder of the Triforce of Wisdom.

She continued her peroration.

She clasped her hands behind her back as she started to pace. "It also isn't a secret that our groom-to-be does not want this wedding. But let me just say, Link, they won't let this go without a fight. So, I can't help but wonder, if you created a smokescreen, would that relieve you of your marital contract? I know just the scenario."

"Hold on, Zelda. I appreciate the political standpoint but what about the fact that Ilia is in love with me? I'm not trying to hurt her. "Link knew she was proposing an angle. He just wasn't sure what, and would she ever answer him about Y/N?

"Duty is always above love. Surely, Ilia understands this with the mayor as her father. However, you may wish to revisit what you think you knew about Ilia. Why do you think Aryn was released from his current incarceration?"

Link tried not to let the shock show on his face. "That creep! What do you know about him? Are you saying Ilia bailed Aryn out? Why would she bail out someone like that?"

An amused crinkle pulled at Zelda's eye. "You're so worried about not hurting Ilia that you haven't noticed the ways she's been hurting you."

Y/N. Ilia did this to rattle Y/N. To keep her away from me. Doesn't Ilia know what Aryn would have...would have...

"I can't believe Ilia to be so nefarious. I won't!" Link spat in revulsion. Zelda goaded Link on. "You think Mayor Bo was the one to push your wedding up? Do you not understand the mayoral position is also as good as hers if something were to happen to him?"

Zelda picked up the book and handed it to Link. "Read this. I think it will make some things clear about what has been going on in Ordon. As for Y/N..."

Link stood, transfixed on Zelda, as soon as he heard Y/N's name. "She is the perfect smokescreen for your wedding escape. You do understand she poses a risk of Ganondorf breaking the seal if she continuously comes to our realm."

"Midna would never allow her to go through with this if it posed such a risk. Nor would you. Speaking of the seal, the Mirror of Twilight, was I imagining it when Midna destroyed it? Or is there another behind-the-scenes trick with that also?"

Zelda shook her head. "There are only two shards. The shard I possess, and the shard Midna possesses, or at the moment, Y/N." Zelda braced herself for her next statement, for she knew it would be heavy for Link to bear. Especially considering he was obviously smitten with Y/N.

"Midna agreed to let Y/N come because her conversion to Hylian is paramount to saving both our realms. By completing the trials of conversion, we could erase the shadow within her."

A horrific feeling flooded Link as Zelda said the word "shadow."

"Zelda, what are you trying to tell me?" Link wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Zelda placed a hand on Link's shoulder, steadying him beneath her grip. "Zant..." Zelda whispered, losing her poise momentarily. Link's blood ran cold just hearing Zant's name come from Zelda's mouth.

"Link. Y/N... she is Zant's daughter."

The room began to spin. It all made sense to Link. The reason she was so good at bringing his shadows into the light...was because she herself was a shadow trying to invade the light.

A/N: Edited 12/17/22

With one answer comes more questions. How does the current revelation of your origin line up with your current mission? There is a shadow within you that is begging to be released. The question is: will you succumb to the shadow in the same way your father Zant did, or will you learn how to fuse it with your inner light?

Meanwhile, at Hyrule Castle, Link is learning how to combat the sinister shadows of a corrupt election with his own light. Can he do this while sparing the feelings of his friend? Or will he have to spare the feelings that are his own?

Check out my other OOT Zelda work- No Woman Beyond