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fyorina · 1 month

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ᡣ𐭩 DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: seven months after his defection, you run into dazai osamu by sheer chance. you know in your heart what you should do—traitors are to be disposed of, regardless of any previous relationship you might've had with them... but can you bring yourself to do what must be done? or will you be more driven by the questions you desperately need answered?

(wordcount: 7.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, angsty (i promiseeeee i have some happier ones coming up with pm!reader and pmzai), alcoholism, dazai is in a particularly bad mental state)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: this one was suchhhh a doozy. the third installment of my pm!reader & pm!dazai universe, this is why i had to retcon he's my collar because originally pm!reader didn't see him at all during the 4 years but i got the idea for this fic like 2 ?? weeks ago and it was too good to not use - tomorrow i think i'll put up the masterlist for it so you guys can see the chronology and planned installments

Against all odds, you run into Dazai Osamu seven months after his defection.

You should put a bullet in his skull. You watch absently from the mouth of the alley as the ex-Port Mafia executive groans, trying to push himself to his feet only to crash back onto the pavement, blood smeared across his face from a crooked nose and split lip, bile pooled on the ground where he’d landed.

Gross, you think, lip curling up in disgust as his lithe fingers smear through the vomit, blunt nails scraping against the pavement as he attempts to push himself up again but fails. His shoulders are heaving, breath slow and labored as he lets out another wretched sound, crumpling back to the ground.

You click the safety off of your gun, pulling it out of your pocket as you quietly make your way deeper into the alley, over to where he’s still struggling to get off the ground. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence until he hits the ground hard again after nearly making it to his feet. This time, he falls onto his shoulder and gasps in pain as he rolls onto his back, blinking up blearily through glazed-over eyes that can hardly focus on you or the gun pointed at his head.

You should just get it over with, pull the trigger, and leave the body for cleanup to handle. It’d be a better fate than he deserves, cleaner and quicker than he’d ever give himself, and not even half as painful as it’ll be when the Port Mafia inevitably get their hands back on him.

You’d be sparing him, really; it would be a mercy.

And it’s what is expected of you. Letting a traitor as high profile as Dazai Osamu go free when you have a clear chance to execute him would be more than enough to have you stripped of your rank and thrown into the torture chambers, body dumped in the river when the Port Mafia is done punishing you.

But still, for some reason, your finger hesitates as you move to pull the trigger.

“You…” His voice is so slurred that you can hardly make out coherent words, but you use his words as an excuse to bide even more time, curious to see what he’s going to say. You can smell the whiskey on him from where you’re standing, his skin is paler than it usually is, and you notice, idly, that the bandages on his right eye are gone and you wonder when he chose to shed them. “You’re not real.”

Your eye twitches in irritation.

You pull the trigger.

If he was sober, he would have expected the reaction from you and dodged the bullet, but he’s not sober, so his eyes fly open in shock as the bullet grazes his ear and embeds itself in the pavement next to his head. He doesn’t look any more sobered up by the pain, which you suppose is a testament to how drunk he really is, but he does look significantly more confused.

“You shot me,” he says, pale lips parted as he stares up at you—too pale, you notice absently, brows furrowing a bit as you try to consider what to do.

“Yeah,” you say, voice rough with irritation. “Real enough for you?”

Dazai blinks, you don’t even think your words are registering and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.

Get it over with, you tell yourself again, this time positioning your gun over his forehead. A clean kill. You won’t move it to the side at the last minute again. You remind yourself that this is what he deserves—he’s a traitor to the Port Mafia, to you. Killing him now would be a mercy compared to what the Port Mafia would do to him, compared to what he’d do to himself.

He stares up at you, brown eyes wide and glassy. He parts his lips to speak but you can’t give yourself the same excuse; you don’t wait for his words this time.

You pull the trigger again.

But Dazai is moving. He rolls over onto his side trying to push himself back to his feet and the bullet lodges right into the ground where his head had once been lying. You stare down at it in disbelief, gun falling to your side as your fingers start to feel a bit numb and clunky, breath catching as you realize what you’d almost just done—what you tried to do.

Dazai makes it to his knees and he tries to reach out for you but you step back out of reach. His brows furrow before he keels over again, dry heaving now—there’s enough bile around him for you to realize he’s probably thrown up everything in his stomach and then some. He leans against the wall, the glassiness of his eyes spilling over his cheeks as he continues to dry heave but your gaze is still trained down on the ground where the bullet is embedded in the ground where his head had just been laying.

You just tried to-

You think you’re the one who feels sick now. The dinner you’d had out with Chuuya and Kouyou rises to the back of your throat as you take another step away from Dazai. Your vision blurs as your gaze turns to him again, but instead of the tattered and vomit-stained clothes he’s wearing now, he’s back in the dark suit you’re accustomed to, crumpled on the ground still, but not because he’s drunk because he’s been wounded on a mission that he took on so you wouldn’t have to.

You just tried to kill Dazai.

Dazai, who’s been your closest friend since the two of you were sixteen and at the center of the most violent conflict to rock Yokohama’s foundations. Entirely inseparable, forever entwined since the moment the two of you met; the type of instant click that most people could only ever dream of experiencing in their lives.

You almost killed Dazai.

Dazai, who promised to put a bullet in Ace’s head if the man ever came near you again after he found out the newly promoted executive had insinuated putting one of his collars on you during a confrontation between the two of you. He knew that even he would face consequences for threatening another executive, that he would face even more if he dared to follow through with his threat, but he didn’t care and he had every intention of following through if it meant keeping you safe.

You would have killed Dazai if not for sheer luck.

Dazai, who used to kiss you with trembling fingers and quivering lips, because for as much as his reputation as the Demon Prodigy had spread throughout the country, he was still just a teenage boy who’d never had his first kiss until the two of you got drunk on champagne after a successful mission when he made the mistake of admitting to you that he’s never kissed anyone before. The two of you’d spent the entire night giggling between chaste kisses, getting through just about two bottles of champagne before you started throwing up.

He held back your hair and laughed at you as you leaned over the toilet, miserable. But he was gentle with you in a way that Dazai Osamu is never gentle with anyone, fingers carding through your hair, rubbing absent circles on your back to soothe you as you choked over sobs and gags.

Then there’s you. You, who not only a moment ago, looked down at him with your lip curling up in disgust, unable to hold your grimace at the way he laid in his own vomit. You lifted the barrel of your gun in his direction not once, but twice, and you pulled the trigger not once, but twice.

When you showed vulnerability to him, he showed you a type of tenderness that everyone thought was long lost to the notorious Demon Prodigy.

When he finally shows vulnerability to you, you only show him cruelty in response.

You try to convince yourself that it’s different, that the circumstances are different now but the words ring hollow in your head, taking no root, because you think the circumstances shouldn't matter. This is Dazai. Dazai. There are no circumstances that justify executing him.

Your head spins and you take another step away, you don’t know where you dropped your gun and you don’t want to know. You don’t want to look at it. You don’t want to touch it. You’ll send someone else after it later. You blink, and for a moment, you can visualize what almost happened: you can see Dazai motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his head and a bullet wound piercing through his forehead. You gag, pressing your hand to your mouth as you force back the bile that nearly comes up.

“Wait,” Dazai garbles out, pushing off the wall toward you but he propels himself right into the ground again, face first, scraping his cheek on the concrete. “Don’t leave again.”

Again? The word nearly pulls you out of your daze, the bitterness that’s poisoned you for seven months returning with a vengeance as your eyes focus on him.

Dazai, who left you without a word or a warning. Not even the slightest goodbye. He abandoned you like you meant nothing to him.

“I need to-” he gags again as he pushes himself to his knees. He tries to reach forward again but his whole body sways, eyes half-rolling back as he tries to steady himself, on the verge of passing out. “I need to tell you this time. I need to-”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, slumping back over onto the ground unconscious—in a puddle of his own blood and vomit, naturally. The logical part of you knows you should just leave him there. You’re already playing with fire by not executing him on the spot, but you also know if you leave him here, it’ll be as good as a death sentence. If he doesn’t die on his own from alcohol poisoning, then he’ll certainly be found by the Port Mafia patrols. You think Dazai is a fool for drinking so much so deep in Port Mafia territory, for not being careful enough to make sure he didn’t wander out in the open.

He should know better.

He does know better.

A part of you wonders if it was intentional, if he thought that he’d stumble into Port Mafia territory and he’d run into someone eager to lay claim to the fame of being Dazai Osamu’s executioner.

If that’s the case, he nearly got his wish—that thought alone almost sends you spiraling over the edge again, having to shove away more nausea. You force all thoughts of the Port Mafia and betrayal to the back of your mind as you fall to your knees next to him, gathering him up into your arms and pushing yourself back to your feet. He curls into you instinctively, even while unconscious, smaller than you remember, smearing blood and bile all over your suit. Your grip on him tightens, a shaky breath escaping your lips when you realize that this is the first time you’ve touched him since the night he left.

You shake your head to clear your mind, desperately trying to focus. You can’t stay out in the open with him for long otherwise you’ll risk someone seeing you with him, and that’ll open a can of worms you’re not prepared to deal with.

You’ll drop him off somewhere safe, and then you’ll get back to base.

That’s all.

That is not all.

The safehouse in Sakae that the two of you would run to whenever you wanted to avoid Mori is just how you left it the last time you spent the night with him there over half a year ago. One of his jackets is still draped over the couch, one of your ties thrown haphazardly on the ground—you remember the night vividly, the way he smiled against your lips as he lead you into the back bedroom, stumbling over each other and fumbling with buttons as you tried to undress the other while walking to the room, high off the success of a mission that everyone had said would fail because the odds were so stacked against the two of you. Even Chuuya had laughed in your face when you said you’d take the mission, but you knew so long as Dazai had your back on it, it would work out in your favor.

He’s woken up several times, you don’t even know what he’s saying in his incoherent babbles. Every time he wakes back up, he’s calling for you, stumbling out of the bed you laid him in after getting him cleaned up and crashing to the ground before he reaches the hall. It’s irritating, you have to go back to help him back into the bed every time and he starts babbling again, passing out before you can figure out what he’s saying. You finally had to move yourself into the back bedroom with him so he didn’t try to get up again.

You don’t know why you’re still here.

You lean your forehead against your hand as you sit on the bed next to where he’s lying, one leg tucked beneath you while the other hangs over the side. You tell yourself it’s because you don’t want him to get up drunk trying to look for you and then crack his head open, but it’s a weak excuse because Dazai Osamu is not your issue anymore. It’s not your job to watch over him when he gets shit-faced drunk, it’s not your job to patch him up when he gets hurt, it’s not your job to look out for him.

He left you, not vice versa, You don’t owe him anything. He lost that privilege when he betrayed you. Fuck the Port Mafia, he betrayed you when he left without a word. You deserved better than that. You deserved a goodbye. You don’t owe him shit. You should leave him here to rot in his own vomit and blood but-

But you won’t.

Your gaze drifts back over to him. He’s still out cold—cleaner now, because it had never just been ‘get him somewhere safe and then go back to the base,’ as soon as you got him into the safehouse you wrangled him into the bathroom to clean him up. He was uncharacteristically pliant as you manhandled him into the shower. You suppose it was because he was unconscious for half of it but even for the moments where he was awake and blearily blinking the water out of his eyes, looking up at you through wet bangs with those stupid big eyes of his, as if he was still unsure if you were actually there.

Instinctively, you reach out to brush the back of your knuckles against his swollen, split lip, wondering if it was just from him being clumsy while drunk or if he’d managed to piss someone off at a bar. Both are equally likely—Dazai is a rather cantankerous drunk when he’s alone and drunk on whiskey, and even after cleaning him up and dousing him in soap to get out the reeking scent of his vomit out from where it’d sunken into his skin, shoving a toothbrush into his mouth to brush his teeth and scrubbing so they don’t rot from the bile, you can still smell the whiskey on his breath.

You wonder how much he drank. His skin is still pale, his breath shuddered, and he’s shivering even though you wrapped him in three thick blankets. Some degree of alcohol poisoning, that’s for sure. You tell yourself that’s why you’re not leaving—you don’t want to leave before you’re sure he’s pulled through the worst of it. You’re not going to admit to yourself that you don’t want to leave because you’re worried it’ll be the last time you see him for real this time.

You hesitate right before your knuckles brush his skin, swallowing thickly before you withdraw your hand back into your lap, eyes sliding shut as you sigh.

What the hell are you doing?

If anyone from the Port Mafia knew what you were doing right now, you’d be hunted down right alongside him, branded as a traitor and sentenced to death. Chuuya would kill you if he knew what you were doing right now—and not because you betrayed the Port Mafia by helping Dazai, instead because you’re a fucking idiot. You’ve done a lot of stupid things in your life, but this might take the cake for the stupidest, sticking your neck out for someone who didn’t even care enough to tell you goodbye.

You rub your forehead, tired. You try to summon the anger you felt when you first found out he betrayed the Port Mafia from Mori and Chuuya—from the hot fury you felt in the direct aftermath, screaming and breaking everything you could get your hands on as you cursed his name and burned everything he left in your apartment to the cold rage you felt when you finally calmed down, bitter and lonely and betrayed by the one person you never thought would betray you—but you can’t. And you think it’s pathetic because what use is all of that anger if you can’t utilize it when the reason for it is lying right before you?

If Chuuya were here right now, he’d drag you out by the hair and leave Dazai to suffer on his own. You left your phone in the kitchen after turning off your location, because he was already buzzing incessantly wondering where you are. You’d told him that you wanted to stop by one of the fishing ports in Kanazawa to check on a small weapons shipment that should’ve arrived earlier in the night before heading back to your shared apartment—you’d moved in with him after Dazai’s betrayal. He made the executive decision himself, not giving you a choice in the matter because he realized that you living on your own in the apartment that Dazai had practically moved into with you was not conducive to you healing from his betrayal.

Plus, you think he was lonely too without Dazai around anymore, but he’d never admit that.

You should’ve been back an hour ago. You’re sure that he’s getting suspicious and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to track you down. You don’t think he knows about this safe house in particular, Dazai had threatened you with piling up mission reports onto you if you told him about this one, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Chuuya learned about it through other means—somehow, he always seems to know everything.

You sigh again, heavier this time as you try to figure out what to do. You know what you should do, but you also know you’re not going to do that. Your gaze drags back over to him and your breath catches when you realize he’s awake again, bleary brown eyes trained on you, brows furrowed.

His lips part to speak again and you tense, waiting for whatever he has to say, unsure if you’ll even understand it.

“You… came with me. You never come with me. Are you… really here?”

Even though his eyes are still glazed over and muddled, his voice is less garbled than it was before. You think that’s a good sign, but even so, you let out an even heavier sigh, this one more irritated, and a bit confused because you don’t even know what that means: you never come with me.

“Yes, Dazai,” you say sharply, but then you let out a puff of air. The same memories that hit you before coming right back to you, remembering all of the nights Dazai would stay up having to take care of you, patient in a way that he never was with anybody. You soften your voice a bit as you say, “Yes. I’m here.”

Dazai looks at you like he doesn’t believe you. He blinks once slowly, then his brows furrow deeper and his lips turn downward.

“You don’t call me Dazai.” He speaks the accusation slowly, as if to make himself sound more coherent, but you can still hear the clear slur in his voice. “You never-”

You turn away because if you don’t, you think you might lose your temper. He’s drunk, you remind yourself, but he’s still ripping open wounds that never properly healed, because how dare he expect you to still call him by his given name after everything. It had taken months for you to get used to calling him Dazai again and-

You feel your chest start to cave in again and your throat spasms. Your eyes flutter shut and god, you want to hate him. You thought you did hate him, you convinced yourself of it in all of the bitter rage and acidic betrayal you’ve felt the past seven months but now that you’re confronted with him again, you know that it was never hate. You could never hate Dazai Osamu. You'd just missed him so terribly that the pain was easy to mistake as hate; love and hate has always been a treacherously thin line, and Dazai more than anyone else wavers on either side of it.

Your heart feels like it’s about to leap from your chest and crawl right back to him, you have to physically place your hand over your chest as if to hold it in place, to make sure the traitorous thing can’t go back to the very man that tore it shreds. You force yourself to breathe, in and out, steady, trying to settle down.

This was a mistake, you realize, this was a mistake.

Just as you’re about to push yourself up, you feel lithe fingers curl around your arm. You freeze, not even daring to glance back at Dazai. You can hear him pushing the covers off of him as he crawls closer to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His movements are unsteady, and you can’t bring yourself to push him off of you when you feel him slump against your back.

His weight is familiar, comforting in a way that it shouldn’t be. If you close your eyes, you can imagine that you’re back at the Port Mafia base seven months ago and Dazai is draping himself across your back, complaining about being overworked by Mori and trying to convince you to take over his paperwork. You’d have to drag him halfway across the base trying to get to your office with his dead weight hanging onto you, you remember all of the wary stares from your subordinates as they try not to let their gaze linger on the two of you but let their curiosity get the best of them regardless.

You hate that you don’t push him off right away, that you’re letting yourself indulge in his touch again. You’ve moved on from this—from him. It’s been seven months. You’re over all of this.

“You… understand, don’t you?”

You barely hear the words muffled against your back, but you do and you can’t help but stiffen at them. He shifts against you, fingers biting into your skin as he pulls himself up a bit more to bury his face in the crook of your neck, arms looped around your waist as he leans all of his weight onto your back. You can feel his breath warm and shuddered against your neck, making your hair stand on end, and his hands are limp in your lap now, fingers brushing against the material of the clean slacks you’d pulled on after getting Dazai showered.

It’s all so familiar that it could make you sick.

“How could I?” you ask bitterly, even though you know you shouldn’t take out your resentment on him while he’s so drunk; he probably won’t remember any of this in the morning anyway. There’s no point, you’ll just be wasting your energy.

His arms tighten around you, breath hitching against your skin. “I had to, Odasaku-”

The noise you let out is such a sharp scoff that you can feel Dazai flinch behind you. You almost shove him off of you but you refrain, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself down. You never really had any feelings about Odasaku—he was always just there, you heard about him from Dazai occasionally and he seemed pleasant enough the few times you encountered him—but after all of this, you can’t help but hold a grudge against him, irrationally blaming him for Dazai leaving you.

“Odasaku wasn’t your only friend,” you say tightly. “You had me. Chuuya. You-”

“It’s not the same,” Dazai protests, clinging to you as if he hadn’t just driven a knife right through your back into your heart.

This time you do shove him off, barely sparing him a glance as he lets out a surprised yelp, sprawling back onto the bed. You push away the mistiness that threatens your eyes, breathing in and out slowly to try to keep yourself calm. It’s not the same, you repeat his words, bitterness poisoning your blood and clouding your head. What the fuck does that even mean? You know logically you should take his words with a grain of salt, that he’s so drunk he probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying, but you just feel so angry that it’s hard for you to keep that in mind.

You hear him scrambling behind you: a thump as he hits the floor hard and then a rush of movement as he pushes himself to his knees. His fingers curl around your ankle before you can get further away and you have a half a mind to kick him off of you and leave.

You don’t.

“Don’t leave,” he pleads. He drags himself to his knees, pulling at your pants and it takes all of your self-control to not look back down at him. “I didn’t-it came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?” you ask him, even though you by all means should not even bother to hear his shitty explanation.

“I just-I didn’t mean it like that.” You’ve never heard Dazai’s voice crack before, but it does now. “Don’t leave. I miss you.”

“You miss me?” you spit out, and you finally turn to look down at him—a mistake, of course, because he’s on his knees in front of you, looking up at you with those stupid, big brown eyes and you almost let your anger fizzle away at the sight of it. He’s drunk, you remind yourself again, but it doesn’t stop you from snapping at him. “You left me, Dazai. You have no right to miss me.”

“But I do.” His fingers fumble for your hand, grabbing one of yours with both of his. “I miss you so much, I think about you all the time.”

His lashes flutter, fingers brushing along your forearm as he presses his lips to your knuckles and then to your pulse point before leaning forward to rest his forehead on your thigh. You can’t even look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the wall, because your lashes feel wet and heavy and you know that you’ll give into him if you look at him now and he doesn’t deserve that.

“I couldn’t go to you before I left,” Dazai whispers and he sounds oddly coherent now even though you know he’s not. “I would’ve asked you to come with me.”

For some reason, that hurts worse than if he’d just admitted he didn’t care enough to say goodbye. Because what does that even mean, I would’ve asked you to come with me, would that have been so bad? He didn’t want you with him? Why wouldn’t he have wanted you with him? If you had left, he would’ve been the first person you ran to, begging him to come with you.

“How terrible that would’ve been,” you say, and you’re proud that your voice remains cold and steady, not betraying the hurt ripping through your chest.

“I wouldn’t have been able to handle it,” he says, voice breaking over a hiccup. “Odasaku had just died and-”

He cuts himself, and you dare to look down at him when you feel him lift his face from your thigh. You regret it immediately. Glassy, glazed-over eyes beg for you to understand, and you scare yourself because you want to understand when he shouldn’t even matter to you anymore. You’ve moved on. You have. It’s been seven months. He left you without a word. So why do you care so much for what he has to say right now?

“You wouldn’t have come with me,” he says, shaking his head. “You would’ve said no. You never would have chosen me over the Mafia.”

Your lips part to deny the allegations, to say that of course, you would have come with him, but the words fizzle out before they even form on your tongue because-

“You can’t even bring yourself to deny it, can you?” Dazai asks, and although he sounds more cogent now, you can’t help but notice that he’s starting to look sick again, the back of his throat making that faint clicking sound it always makes when he’s about to throw up. “You never would have chosen me.”

You would choose Dazai Osamu over a lot of things. You would choose to save his life before yours if put in the position, and you would choose to trust him over anyone else in the whole world. You’d follow him to the depths of hell and deep into the shadows, until your blood is black and corrupted and you’re entirely irredeemable, but you can’t follow him into the light.

You can’t choose him if it means betraying the Port Mafia. With his defection, the two have become mutually exclusive: Dazai or the Port Mafia, there’s no way of having both anymore. The boy you’ve come to love or the only home you’ve ever known. The only family you’ve ever had. A shitty family maybe, but a family nonetheless. If you don’t belong with the Port Mafia, you don’t belong anywhere on this earth, and as someone who’s always had a desperate fear of alienation, the thought makes you sick.

You stare at him, throat tight, and then you say, colder than you intend for it to come across, “... If that’s really why you didn’t say goodbye, then I’m glad you didn’t put me in that position.”

The expression that crosses Dazai’s face is something caught between ruin and shock—and you can’t help but wonder if he held out hope, thinking maybe he was wrong in his assumptions. That there had been a chance that you might’ve chosen him if he’d given you the option. That he’s been living his life in the what-ifs for the past seven months and now that he’s finally gotten the chance to bare his heart to you, you’ve crushed it.

Your chest tightens, your throat spasms and it takes all your self-control to not immediately take back the words, regret flooding you so intensely that it nearly makes you physically stumble. Because it’s true, you never would have picked Dazai over the Mafia, but he didn’t have to know that—especially not now, when he’s drunk and vulnerable in a way that he’s never allowed himself to be before.

You hope, for his sake and your conscience, that he doesn’t remember any of this in the morning.

His lips part to respond again but his hand is flying to his mouth instantly, doubling over, and you’re cursing, reaching for the trash bin you’d brought into the bedroom and falling to your knees next to him, helping him kneel upright and holding the trash bin in front of him as he starts gagging again.

“I would’ve-” He’s still trying to talk through the bouts of nausea, gasping over air, body trembling as he leans into you for balance.

You don’t want to hear what he has to say.

“Dazai-”

“I would’ve chosen you,” he finally forced out, voice breaking over the words and you’re not sure if it’s a sob or another heave that escapes his lips as he continues. “If the positions were reversed, I would’ve chosen you.”

Oh.

The words echo in your head so loudly that it makes you want to cover your ears even though you know it won’t do anything. You want to accuse him of lying, tell him that he’s full of shit and just trying to make you feel guilty, but you don’t think he’s capable of lying right now and you don’t think this is anything Dazai would have ever admitted to you if he was sober. He guards his heart more carefully than anyone you’ve ever met—in the two and a half years you’d known him, he never admitted he cared about you. You knew it just from how he treated you, but you think he might’ve ripped his own tongue out before actually admitting it.

You wrap an arm around him as his whole body shudders through another gag and he tries to push you off—angry, upset, you don’t know what he might be feeling because you’ve never seen him like this before—but your arm only tightens around him and Dazai crumbles.

He heaves again, clutching the small garbage can to his face as he throws up all of the water you’d managed to get in him before he passed out earlier. Tears spill over his cheeks, his face is pale and his lashes are fluttering again, on the verge of passing back out. You swallow thickly as he leans into you, letting him collapse into your chest after he’s finished vomiting.

“Will-” he tries to say, but his voice is slurred and weak. He’s desperately trying to stay conscious, you can tell, but he’s fighting a losing battle. “Will you be here in the morning?”

No.

You don’t want to say it, you think you’ve done enough damage for the night, but there’s no need. As soon as the words leave his mouth, Dazai is slumping over unconscious, head laying limp on your arm, lashes brushing his cheek. You sigh as your grip around him tightens before you adjust him in his arms to carry him back into the bed, laying him comfortably beneath the covers.

You don’t linger for long after that. After another hour or two passes and Dazai doesn’t wake up again, you make your way back into the bedroom, raising your hand to his face to brush away the dark locks in his eyes before cupping his cheek. Even in his sleep, he leans into your touch, and it makes your chest feel so agonizingly tight that you think you might be having a heart attack.

You lean down to press your lips to his forehead, to his nose, and then to his lips, indulging yourself one last time. Your forehead rests against his as you consider your words—there are a million things you’d like to say to him before you leave, but you don’t have nearly enough time to get them all off of your chest.

Instead, you tell him softly, “I hope you don’t remember any of this in the morning.” You don’t move your hand from where it’s caressing his cheek as you stand straight again, thumb drawing absent circles on his skin. Your voice is thick with emotion, eyes welling with tears that don’t spill over. “We’ll meet again one day.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning with a hangover so bad that he thinks he might die.

He sits up in bed and is instantly groaning, hand flying to his forehead as his brain throbs inside of his skull. He needs to figure out where he is—the last thing he remembers is…

The bar?

His eyes slide shut as he tries to think, but it only makes his head hurt more. He flops back onto the bed, arms splayed out. He still feels nauseous, he can feel it rising to his throat and he desperately does not want to throw up again—it’s one thing vomiting when he’s too drunk to remember, it’s an entirely different thing to vomit while he’s sober and conscious.

Dazai thinks he might rather die.

He lets out a heavy sigh as he begs the nausea to go away, breathing in and out deeply. He lifts his hand to brush a lock of hair away from where it’s tickling his ear and-

Ouch.

Dazai’s eyes fly open again, confused now, as he rips his hand away from where he’d touched his ear to stare up at the ceiling. He’s used to waking up with odd injuries after a night of blacking out at whatever bar will still have him, but his ear is a particularly strange place to be wounded, isn’t it?

Driven by curiosity now, he forces himself into a sitting position, and it’s only when he pushes himself out of bed, does he finally start to recognize the room he’s in. His lips part in a distinct mixture of shock and confusion as he looks around the room slowly, making his way over to the mirror.

The safehouse in Sakae?

His chest feels heavier instantly, and a tight feeling rises to his throat as he catches sight of an old jacket of yours draped on the desk chair, the one that had ripped during the last mission you went on together—just the way you left it the last time the two of you were here. A pair of his old dress shoes are lying haphazardly outside the closet door, he’s sure that if he peeks into the closet, all of your suits will be hanging there because you refused to share the closet with him so all of his spares are stuffed in the dresser. Dazai suddenly feels sick again and he doubts it’s from the hangover this time.

How did he get here?

He needs another drink desperately.

But first… Dazai leans over the dresser to look into the mirror—a bit dusty after so many months with no one stopping in—he lifts his hand to brush his hair behind and then-

What?

His jaw drops and his brows furrow, his fingers graze over where the top of his ear used to be, only to find the whole upper quarter of it missing.

What the fuck? He mouths as he stares at the missing cartilage, and then he looks back around the room, and just as his eyes catch a trash bin that should be in the bathroom, his vision blurs, and his head is aching. He’s suddenly stumbling down an alley, he’s lying in a puddle of his own vomit, unable to stand up straight. He can hear someone approaching and he knows he should get up, find some dumpster or crevice to wait out the night until he’s sober enough to get the fuck out of the heart of the Mafia’s territory in Yokohama, but he can hardly move.

He can lift his head from the pavement just enough to-

Just enough to see you.

Dazai can hardly cope with the emotions that rattle his chest. Longing, because he’s missed you so terribly the past seven months. Disbelief, because you shot his fucking ear off. And… and Dazai isn’t quite sure what the other emotions are. They’re heavy and light at the same time, his chest feels bubbly but his ankles feel chained—it’s a weird mixture of hope and dread, he thinks, because the safehouse is eerily quiet, seemingly void of any life other than Dazai himself, but the chance that you might still be here…

“Will you be here in the morning?”

The faint memory of the last words he spoke before he passed out the last time rings through his head, and his feet drag against the ground as he forces himself to move from the bedroom into the main room of the safe house. His fingers hesitate against the wood of the door—scared that he’s going to open it and you won't be there, scared that he’s going to open it and you will be there. He doesn’t remember the things he said to you last night, but he knows that he’d been staring at old pictures the two of you took before he blacked out. He can hardly imagine the things he might’ve said to you when given the chance.

It takes all of his strength and all of his willpower to push open the door.

It takes even more to actually step out of the bedroom.

The safe house is empty.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Dazai’s feet are moving before he’s fully even registered what’s happening.

He makes his way into the kitchen to rummage around for another bottle for him to drown away his sorrows, but he doesn’t pull out the untouched bottle of his favorite whiskey he knows is sitting in the cabinet—he goes straight for the wine fridge. He nearly shatters three bottles of whites before he finally gets his hands on your favorite red, the one you’d asked him to stock up in there for you three days before he left, knowing that the two of you had a mission coming up and you’d be celebrating here, as always. Not knowing that he’d have betrayed you by then.

He struggles to uncork it, the frustration causing his headache to return with a vengeance. It takes an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to finally get the bottle open, but when he does, he brings it to his lips immediately, eyes sliding shut as he downs a few generous gulps.

The taste is familiar. Pleasant. It makes his heart ache with such an intense longing for you that it nearly makes him throw up.

He can almost imagine that he’s tasting it off of your lips instead.

He leans over the counter, elbows digging into the marble as he tries to push away the ugly feelings ripping apart his chest. He can’t. He never can. He hasn’t been able to since the day he left you behind seven months ago. He can only numb it.

With a hand closed around the neck of the bottle, Dazai slides down the cabinet to sit on the ground. His cheeks feel wet, but he doesn’t dare lift his hand to acknowledge the tears sliding down them.

Instead, he lifts the bottle to his lips again and drowns himself in the memories of you for another night.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai angst #bsd angst #bungo stray dogs angst

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bvidzsoo · 1 month

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Love Me Like A Rockstar (8)

Chapter 8: Own My Mind

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warning: cursing

Word count: 8.3k

Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter and let me tell you, ever since I've started writing this there's been little changes to the plot here and there, but...we should all thank Song Mingi for the way he's been acting this weekend for bringing a major change to it (i wanna kms ha-ha *dies in pain*) Anyways, I have a love-hate relationship with that man right now, don't mind my dramatic ass. Please listen to Maneskin's Own My Mind before or while reading this chapter, just the usual! If you want to be added to this story's taglist, just leave a comment on this post and you'll be added! Also, the drawing our girlie is talking about that is on her bed (later in this chp.), is absolutely waterbomb Mingi and it's a call-back to chp. 4 hehet. I have a surprise at the end of this chapter lol. One last question and then I'm going, should I do a Q&A surrounding this story? Like, if you have any curiosities about it, you can send in an ask and I'll gladly answer it! ^^ I hope you'll enjoy this part and, as always, let me know your thoughts about it!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

I shivered as I hurriedly shrugged off my jacket, backpack discarded the second I stepped inside my warm home, the loud thunder cut short as Mingi quickly closed the front door behind himself, hissing and groaning. I turned my head to watch him struggle out of his worn-out jacket as I stepped out of my shoes, hardly believing that from just a few minutes out in the rain, even my socks got soaked. Mingi’s head shook as his body trembled, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched him. He looked quite hilarious with his black hair sticking to his forehead, glasses so wet he couldn’t see through them anymore, loose clothing now sticking to his lean body like a second skin.

“What’s so funny?” Mingi playfully furrowed his eyebrows as he took his specks off, shaking the water off the glass, as wiping it against his already wet clothes wouldn’t have helped him in ridding his glasses of water.

“You.” I mumbled with a chuckle as I peeled my cardigan off, skin covered in goosebumps as my damp skin was exposed to the chilly air in the hallway. Mingi rolled his eyes, and placed his glasses back on as I took off towards the wardrobe by the stairs, chewing on my bottom lip. Mingi would have to change out of his wet clothes, unless we wanted him to catch a cold. I couldn’t leave him standing there like that, shivering and sniffing as he already sneezed loudly. His apology was sheepish, but I just flashed him a small smile before opening the heavy door of the wardrobe. There were minimal chances that the box I was looking for was still inside the wardrobe, considering the fact that my mother would go on a cleaning frenzy every month and throw out almost everything inside the house that she deemed unusable anymore. Therefore, there were almost one to zero chances that the box I so vividly remember having placed here ages ago, was still in its spot.

“Uh, do you think I could use the bathroom real fast?” Mingi asked, voice sounding unsure as I kneeled down in front of the wardrobe, eyebrows furrowing when I didn’t spot the box right away.

“One second, let me find something.” I called out, leaning forward as I pushed my mother’s long coats hanging in my face out of the way, and disappeared further into the wardrobe as I pushed and pulled at the thick blankets she kept in there. I thought about giving up for a second, about her having thrown out the contents of the box I was searching for, but I gasped when I felt the sturdy cartoon underneath my fingertips. With a triumphant smile, I pulled on it, a few scarfs and my very old Hello Kitty beanie falling out in the process. The box felt heavier than I remembered it to be, and my heart settled knowing that my mother didn’t throw it out. But that didn’t mean it didn’t start beating wildly once I sat back on my heels, box placed in front of me. A chill ran down my spine, and I knew right now that it wasn’t because of the chilly air and my damp skin. Whatever still remained inside this box…is what I never had the strength to throw out, to fully get rid of every memory lingering of Yunho. I gulped, chewing on my bottom lip as I hesitated opening it up. But there was another loud sneeze, and as I briefly glanced at Mingi, I couldn’t help but notice the light red tinge on his cheeks as he typed away on his phone, completely soaked. I really had no other choice but to open up the box of pandora.

And a lump formed in my throat when I finally opened it, a stale scent hitting my nose. My eyebrows furrowed when a golden butterfly necklace sat on top of everything, a harsh reminder of all the gifts Yunho would buy for me during our relationship. I have thrown out all the gifts, except this one. It was expensive, and frankly, too beautiful to be thrown out or gifted to anyone else. Gulping, I pushed the necklace aside and sighed as I dug around the box, jaw clenching at the three sketchbooks getting in my way. They were filled with drawings of Yunho and myself, of all the places we’ve been to, of all the places I have wished to visit with Yunho. Of all the memories we have once made, and of all the memories I wished we could’ve made. Being an artist was amazing, but at certain times it was a nightmare in disguise, brain able to conjure such vivid images that never happened, that it could fool me into thinking that they have actually happened. I sighed quietly as I felt eyes on me, and finally found what I was searching for. A fuzzy and faded knitted sweater, a plethora of colors mixed together, from beige to a light purple, black and silver in the mix too. I pulled it out of the box, together with the grey sweatpants, and cleared my throat as I stood, hands burning the longer I held the clothing in my hands. I felt guilty, almost disgusting as I neared Mingi again, trying to avoid his eyes as he had an easy look on his face, smiling despite continuously sniffing.

“These are the only male clothing we have in the house,” I said as I reached my hands out, looking at Mingi’s chest rather than eyes, “hopefully they’ll fit you.”

“And if they won’t, you can always give me one of your colorful fuzzy cardigans.” Mingi’s tone was playful and I chuckled, giving him a playful glare. Those cardigans would never fit his broad shoulders. The tightness was gone from my chest as Mingi took the clothes from my grasp, a thankful look on his face. The guilt remained, but it wasn’t so pressing anymore.

“You can change in the bathroom downstairs,” I pointed towards the closed door across from the wardrobe, “towels are in the cabinet above the toilet. Do you need a hairdryer?”

Mingi shook his head with a smile and gave my soaked hair a light tap, “Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he seemed to linger on my name sent my heart into a dumb frenzy, and I found myself flustered beyond, emotion so foreign I forgot how to speak for a second. And Mingi didn’t miss it, fuck, because he walked away with a smug smile towards the bathroom and paused in the doorway for dramatic effect, before disappearing with a damn wink. I huffed, glaring daggers at the closed door as I scurried to shove everything fallen out back inside the wardrobe, closing its door rather harshly. I licked my chapped lips and raced up the stairs, throwing the door to my room open and taking a second to take in its state. My desk was messy, but that’s just how it always was, I couldn’t do much about it right now. I opened the blackout curtains, however, the weather already gloomy enough to cast shadows inside my dark room. I flinched as another thunder rumbled through the sky, and grabbed the first clothes I found in my closet, walking to the bathroom upstairs.

After having changed into wide legged leggings that had cotton on the inside, I quickly threw on a white tank top and a soft pink mock neck sweater, sighing in content as warmth finally enveloped my body after I have dried up the dampness on it with a towel. I skipped down the stairs as I had a towel around my head, messily towel drying my hair, completely missing the tall form standing at the foot of the stairs as I stumbled into him. I yelped, but Mingi quickly steadied me by the elbows. Before I had the chance to pull the towel off my head, two large hands grabbed at it and started softly rubbing the towel against my wet hair. I froze, everything inside me stopping as even my breath stilled, eyes wide open. Mingi said nothing as he continued with his actions, quietly humming to himself. I was afraid he’d be able to hear my loud heartbeat as I breathed through my mouth, lips parting as I struggled to calm down. I was thankful for the towel hiding my face, because I could feel the blush spreading down from my cheeks to my ears, and even neck. I couldn’t remember a time when I have blushed this hard, and it made me feel slightly disoriented. For God’s sake, Mingi was simply towel drying my hair for me, why was I having such a visceral reaction to it?! My mind seemed to be screaming at me, but I was too busy trying to regulate my breathing, doing so quietly, as Mingi’s hands became a little rougher, almost pulling on specific strands of hair. My eyes narrowed as he turned my head left to right to his likes, and I groaned as his fingers dug into my scalp.

“Hey, stop it!” I whined and slapped at his hand, making Mingi chuckle as he ruffled my hair to the point I had strands from the back falling into my eyes.

“Oh, good,” He was still chuckling, “for a second there I thought you had fallen asleep with how quiet you were.”

Despite not being able to see his face, or anything if I looked ahead, I could still peek down and see his feet. I was standing on the last step of the stairs, and with an evil grin, I jumped down, his naked toes falling victims to my attack. Mingi yelped loudly, and I cackled as I pulled the towel off my face, smiling at him smugly.

“Serves you right since my hair is all knotted up thanks to you.” I raised my eyebrows at him as Mingi had his right leg raised, massaging his toes with a pained expression.

“So you break my toes?!” He exclaimed, his deep tone a few octaves higher, making me snicker to myself as I threw the towel at him, making him yelp and look at me with an appalled expression on his face.

“Stop being a baby,” I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked towards the front door to lock it before I went inside the kitchen, “And wear some slippers before you come to the kitchen.”

Mingi was closely following behind me, ignoring my words, “What, one of your dwarf slippers? It’s either my toes or heels will be dangling off.”

The image was funny in my head, but I ignored it in order to throw him a scrutinizing look, “The tiles are cold in here, you’ll catch a cold.”

A wide smile spread on Mingi’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging underneath the tight fabric of the sweater, “You’re so cute when you worry about me, doll.”

There goes the pleasant exchange we’ve been having up until now. My voice became devoid of any expression besides the glare I threw at him, mirroring him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not cute. I’m merely saying you’ll probably catch a cold since we’ve been out in the rain not even fifteen minutes ago. And since you’re a singer you should be taking a lot more care of yourself.”

Mingi remained silent for a few seconds, until I watched a light hue tinge his cheeks. Was he blushing because I was lecturing him? Just what in the hell?!

“You’re right, sorry.” Mingi mumbled, but showed no intentions of actually following through with my words as he walked further inside the room, sitting at the table, feet up on the chair as he hugged his long legs to his chest. For such a tall and broad man, he looked extremely tiny sitting on that chair right now.

“Uh,” A little confused by the turn of events, I looked around the kitchen, trying to remember the initial purpose of me coming here, “Right. You don’t like tea, so we have coffee or hot chocolate to warm us up, which one would you like?”

Mingi’s eyes lingered on me for a second too long, taking in my whole being before his eyes settled on my face again, a smile so genuine settling on his lips that his eyes were sparkling, “Hot chocolate is fine.”

I hummed, a little breathless, then turned to open the cabinet above the microwave to take out two tall mugs for the hot chocolate. For some reason, I didn’t mind Mingi’s eyes following my every move as I tinkered around in my kitchen, taking everything I needed in my hands to prepare them on the counter. The thought of having Mingi inside my home, sitting in my kitchen, wearing my ex’s clothes, acting like we’ve been friends since forever seemed to hit me at once as I froze for a second while pouring water inside the second mug, Mingi’s mug. And what was even more surprising was not finding any thoughts that suggested that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this, that Mingi didn’t belong inside my kitchen. I didn’t want to dwell more on why it all felt so right, so instead, I watched as the mugs whirled around in the microwave, locking these thoughts away for later…I knew they’d come back late at night to haunt me, it’s just how it always was.

Mingi clearing his throat gained my attention as I glanced back at him, and tried not to look too long. The way Yunho’s clothes perfectly fit Mingi’s form was alarming, albeit the sweatpants seemed to be slightly too long for Mingi. I’ve had Yunho’s clothes since highschool, which was a few good years ago, yet they still fit Mingi. It made me wonder if the two ever exchanged clothes or wore something matching, like best friends would do for fun. I know Yunho had once mentioned having matching rings with Mingi, but back then I was too jealous about their closeness to ask any further questions about any other matching items they had. And it was a little surprising just how well Mingi’s skin tone was complimented by the colors of Yunho’s old sweater, Mingi’s necklaces sitting on top of the knitted fabric. That sweater was one of my favorite’s while Yunho and I were dating, Yunho always seemed to be glowing when he wore it. At some point I had even forgotten that I still had it. Perhaps I should do something about the contents of that box, join my mother next month in her frenzy cleaning marathon and throw out its contents.

The microwave pinged and I took the two mugs out, realizing that Mingi and I had been staring at each other for at least a good minute, my cheeks flushed again. A soft chuckle was heard behind me, but I ignored it for my own sake. The silence didn’t last for longer as I opened the little packages containing the hot chocolate powder to pour into our cups, “This might sound crazy, but I swear I’ve seen this exact sweater on Yunho quite a few times.”

I froze, thankful that I had my back to Mingi as panic flashed over my face. Deep breaths, I had this. Mingi didn’t have to know, I could lie my way out of this. And so, I forced a small smile on my face as I faced him while walking to the fridge, “Really? Well, coincidence, maybe. It’s my cousin’s sweater, he forgot it here once, but as he lives overseas he never came to get it and my mother just placed it away for when he comes to visit us.”

I didn’t have one single male cousin. Let alone cousin’s that lived overseas.

“Oh,” Mingi mumbled as he picked at an undone string on the sleeve of Yunho’s sweater, “Yeah, that could be it, a coincidence, I mean. Besides, my memory is a little fuzzy, I might be wrong.”

I gulped away the guilt that suddenly bloomed in my chest and grabbed the whipped cream, raising it up, “Whipped cream for your hot chocolate?”

I grinned at Mingi as he slowly shook his head, “I drink it simple.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I walked back to the mugs, “Not even with marshmallows?”

Mingi shook his head with a small smile and so I mixed his powder with the warm water, handing it to him. Mingi had a fond smile on his lips when he took it, his cold fingers lightly brushing against mine, making me blush like a stupid schoolgirl who has a crush. And I do not have a crush on anyone, let alone on Song Mingi. I swiftly turned around, hoping that Mingi didn’t notice me blushing as I quickly put whipped cream in my hot chocolate and stuck two marshmallows in it, putting everything away quickly. I turned to face him as I took a sip, leaning against the counter. Mingi sat in a cross-legged position on the chair as he had the mug in his hands, ring clad fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic. I couldn’t help myself as my eyes lingered on his painted nails, slowly trailing up to Mingi’s face. His black fluffy hair fell in his eyes, obscuring his sharp eyes slightly as they were devoid of the black eyeliner now, a few blemishes tainting his otherwise glowing skin around his jaw, glasses slipping low on his tall nose, and plump lips red and slightly wet from how much Mingi always licks his lips. The simplicity of his whole being has never looked more attractive than right now, and as Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I was startled by such alarming thoughts, and so I hurried out of the kitchen.

“Let’s go up to my room!” I called out, on the brink of crying from all these stupid emotions I was suddenly feeling, trying to calm my crazily beating heart. Who allowed my brain to think in such way of Song Mingi? When did I even start considering him attractive? He was annoying, obnoxiously loud, arrogant and irritating, there was absolutely nothing to like about him or find in him attractive. I had to get a grip of myself right now! Mingi’s footsteps were dull as he followed after me, probably surprised that I had waited for him at the top of the stairs, unknowing of the storm inside my head, matching the raging storm outside. Lightning flashed every two seconds, skies rumbling with thunder, shaking even the ground at times. I hated storms, but suddenly it wasn’t as unbearable as before. When Mingi stood next to me, I lead us towards my room and pushed the door open, leaving it like that as Mingi walked in once I stepped aside for him, allowing him inside my safe space.

I have never been consciously proud or embarrassed of what my room looked like, the thought of what others thought of it absent up until right now. As Mingi walked further inside, head turning each and every way, taking everything in, suddenly I realized I was scared of what he would think. My walls were painted a light grey, on purpose, and there was little to no space left bare except for the wall on which the window was. My bed was pushed up against the wall to your left just as you walked inside, sketches that I have done throughout the years plastered up and put on display, my very first drawing even making it up on my wall. It was my little personal museum, a way of reminding myself of where I started out and how much I have evolved ever since, and even how much I was still changing as I was experimenting with my styles, learning a new technique in the class of Mr. Yoon. The desk across from my bed was messy, like I have said, it was littered with everything I needed to have at hand. Pencil holders filled to the brim, at least five of them, then there were brushes and little paint tubes littered all over it, notebooks and discarded sketches sitting underneath it, with my laptop hanging just a little dangerously off, not having paid much attention where I have put it this morning. A plain canvas was spread out on the little free space I still had, a project I had planned on starting today, now postponed for tomorrow. The wall above my desk had three modest shelves filled to the brim with books and some vinyl’s I have started collecting not long ago, pots and plants hanging off from the sides. The wall around the shelves was decorated by posters and pictures of my favorite bands, a few of my favorite paintings mixing in with them. The little stand next to my desk had my vinyl player, plants underneath it and around it, little ones. And then in the corner there was an old guitar that once had belonged to my mother, who has had a phase back in highschool and dreams of becoming a band member, famous and rich. She didn’t have the heart to gift the guitar to anyone, so she’s always kept it and passed it on to me once I was old enough. I never had an affinity for playing any instruments, but I do enjoy good music. A mix of old and new artists making it in that mix, actually—perhaps Noir Zenith slowly becoming one of them too, but Mingi didn’t have to know that. My closet was to the right just as you walked in, and it was of dark and sturdy wood, expanding from the ceiling to the floor. I had a little mirror right on its right side, the wall above and behind it, going right behind the door even, littered with my favorite painter’s paintings. Of course, they were only prints made at the local copy shop, but that didn’t matter. Fairy lights hung above my bed and from the lamp on the ceiling. The two nightstands on either side of my bed were more organized than one would expect from me, little makeup buckets placed on the one closest to the window, charger cable and some headphones sitting on the dark wood. The one nearest to the door had pictures of myself and my mom, and of Seulgi and I on display with a little clock, its drawer so filled with notebooks that I couldn’t quite close it. Thankfully the drawers of my desk weren’t so filled, I had just rearranged them last week, one evening when I was too restless to sleep.

Mingi was quiet as his mouth was slightly open, eyes wide as he took everything in, eyes falling onto my bed. I followed his sight and was mortified to find my biggest sketchbook open and displaying a quite realistic sketch of Mingi performing on stage. It was from the night I had a breakdown and Mingi found me in that diner. Seulgi had sent me some pictures she had taken of Wooyoung and accidentally slipped in one with Mingi too, and because the image just wouldn’t leave my mind, I knew I had no choice but to draw it. I dived for the sketchbook as if my life depended on it, all of it happening so fast I hoped Mingi didn’t actually catch what the drawing—or better said, who—the drawing was of. I shut it closed and pushed it off the bed, the light thud loud in the silent room. When I turned to look at Mingi, ready to face his smug face and taunting words, I was surprised to find his attention on something completely different. Of course, I should’ve expected from a man who plays in a band to be enamored by the vintage guitar in my possession. Its body was a light blue and had cherry blossoms painted over it, something my mother admitted to doing so, which lead to an argument with her father back in the days when he had seen the “damage” my mother had done to the pricey guitar.

“Is that a Martin D-19?” Mingi gushed as he walked toward the guitar, mouth hanging open. My eyebrows raised at his knowledge about it upon one glance. To me, it looked like a regular acoustic guitar. But then again, I should’ve expected it from a music major and a guy who has a literal band and plays the bass.

“Yeah, it was my mother’s.” I answered as I set my mug on the nightstand and sat at the edge of my bed, watching the awed expression on Mingi’s face. He had placed his mug by the foot of my desk as he crouched down, admiring the guitar from up-close.

“It’s absolutely beautiful.” Mingi whispered, fingers carefully tracing its body. Not even at gun point would I have admitted my next thought, which was of just how beautiful Mingi looked in this exact moment. Lightning flashed and the ground shook with the intense thunder, making Mingi tense for a second before he turned back to face me with the prettiest smile I have ever seen on someone.

“Your mother knows how to play it?” He asked, sounding enthusiastic. I was breathless, but after a big gulp, I forced my brain to function.

“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile, “she was a big rock lover back in the days, even wanted to start her own band. But due to her parents negative reactions to it, she unfortunately had to give up on that dream and do something more ‘real’.”

I rolled my eyes at the end of my sentence, not very fond of my grandparents. They weren’t bad people, but they also treated my mother harshly, and even myself, always asking about my future plans and straight up crying when I told them I wanted to become a painter. I saw the way Mingi’s face hardened for a second, but I knew he didn’t want to talk about it as he became expressionless quickly after. I was curious what made his mood become sour so quickly, if he perhaps related to what I have said in some way, but I wouldn’t prod. If he wants to tell me, he will sometime. So, instead, as a distraction, I scooched up further on my bed and patted the mattress next to me with a lazy smile, watching Mingi’s eyes slightly widen. He looked a little shy as he grabbed his mug and rose up to his full height, steps almost hesitant as he approached the bed, making me snort. It made Mingi narrow his eyes as I crossed my legs underneath myself as he kneeled on the bed and then settled beside me, long legs extended as he playfully wiggled his feet left and right. I chuckled as I clasped my hands together, letting them rest in my lap as Mingi took a sip of his hot chocolate. The silence was comfortable between us, the harsh rain hitting the windows loudly, wind rocking trees harshly, and the lightning and rumble a constant background noise.

“Last time when we performed at Outlaw, when you didn’t come,” Mingi paused and turned his head to look at me, “you know, when we met at the diner—”

“Let’s not talk about that.” I muttered with a grimace and Mingi hummed, licking his lips.

“Right, so, that night,” His voice was quiet, lips pulling into an abashed smile, “the crowd was bigger than usual, at first I blamed it on being a rowdier night, but it turned out those people were there to see us, Noir Zenith, to see me.”

I felt a small smile appear on my own lips, Mingi looking pleased with himself despite the light pink tinge of his cheeks, “And now Hongjoong might help us sign with a record deal, I feel like everything is finally coming together. Like my hard work is finally being rewarded.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling too wide, subconsciously reaching out to hold Mingi’s arm as he looked me in the eyes, “That’s so good, Mingi! You deserve all the praise and attention your band gets, you’re really good.”

“You really think so?” Mingi sounded small, eyes wide in wonder as he flushed more. I knew I have said some things that weren’t the nicest, and now it made me realize that Mingi never deserved hearing those things from me. Yeah, I didn’t like the guy much at the beginning—not that now I like him more—but I still shouldn’t have shit on his music, on something he pours his whole soul and heart into.

“I really do, Mingi.” I slightly squeezed his arm, hoping that he could hear the sincerity in my voice as a wide and bright smile spread onto Mingi’s plush lips, so contagious that I found myself with a matching smile on my own lips. I chuckled, for some reason not wanting to release his arm just yet, the knitted sweater soft and warm under my touch.

“Lovely seeing you slowly turn into my number one fan, doll.” Of course, trust Mingi to ruin the moment. My eyes narrowed as I sighed loudly, slowly shaking my head. Mingi chuckled before taking a large gulp of his not so hot anymore chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Now, don’t get cocky.” I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand off his arm, watching as his eyes lingered where I have touched him, “I can recognize good work without becoming your fan.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mingi mused playfully and I scoffed, bumping my shoulder into his before I went to retrieve my laptop from my desk, “Seonghwa and Wooyoung want us to try out new genres.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I settled back in my previous spot, knee brushing against Mingi’s thigh, “Like what?”

“Well, nothing specific, just something little softer.” Mingi pursed his lips, fiddling with the mug in his hands, “Maybe something more indie rock.”

“I love indie rock,” I muttered absentmindedly as I powered on my laptop, “and why are you reluctant?”

Mingi seemed surprised that I had caught on, but it was quite obvious in his tone that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it, “Because my voice is rough and raw, unlike Seonghwa’s who’s smooth and almost angelic, and Wooyoung’s who’s can reach pitches I can only dream of and has a roughness that is absolutely soft at the same time, alluring.”

“Your voice is deep and powerful, it conveys every single emotion you’re feeling when you sing, Mingi. Your raspy tone alone tells a story, even without speaking the same language I would understand what you’re singing about. But just because it’s rougher and more powerful compared to Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful and enchanting, Mingi.” Occupied with typing in the password to my laptop, I failed to notice the way Mingi’s breaths became shallow, the way his eyes bore into the side of my skull, “I think your voice is unique and desirable, you should be proud of it and not look down on yourself because of it. Many wish to have what you have, so really, don’t think any less of yourself because you think Seonghwa and Wooyoung are somehow better and more alluring. It’s not true, each one of you has their charm and well…I think you’re the most charming out of the three of you.”

I didn’t expect the expression on Mingi’s face when I turned my head to look at him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glazed over as his sharp eyes watched me intently, his breaths loud as his cheeks were red. My eyebrows furrowed, and for a second I worried I have made him angry, but the longer I looked, I realized the look in his eyes had nothing to do with anger. I gulped and averted my eyes, suddenly feeling my heart race again, biting my lower lip and trying to ignore the overbearing proximity between us. It was only our knee and thigh touching, yet it felt like Mingi was all over me, his scent still strong despite having changed out of his clothes and getting soaked by the rain. He always had a sharp scent surround him; it reminded me of pine trees.

“Thank you.” At last, Mingi found his voice and it was lower than before, goosebumps covered my skin as the low baritone of it traveled through my body. I nodded once in acknowledgement, not trusting my voice as I went on the internet to search for some movies to watch and pass the time while we wait for the storm to pass. If it passes, “Do you think rapping would fit my tone?”

It was an unexpected question, but as I mulled over it, I concluded that Mingi had the perfect timbre to both sing and rap, “Yeah, I think it would.”

I dared to take a peek at Mingi from the corner of my eyes, and was relieved to find the intensity gone from his face, instead, a soft smile grazed his lips as he finished his hot chocolate. He leaned back and placed his empty mug next to mine on the nightstand and fished his phone out of his pocket, “I found some old videos of me at school plays, let’s see what my music genius bestie thinks of them.”

I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless peered over Mingi’s shoulder in curiosity, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m merely stating something that someone with not musically trained ears hear. You should be more thankful.”

“I’m more than thankful, Y/N.” Mingi suddenly turned his head, our faces too close for comfort, so I quickly leaned back as he placed his arm on my thigh and pressed play on a video he pulled up from his gallery.

『Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?』

The movie of my choice was simple, The Quiet Ones. Nothing better than something a little spooky while there’s a wild storm raging outside, but to my utter surprise, Mingi looked terrified after only ten minutes of watching it. We were both leaning against the headboard of my bed, pillows behind our backs, and laptop placed between our lower bodies as our legs were stretched out. And despite the laptop being between us, Mingi’s shoulder pressed against mine not even five minutes after settling in our current spots. Trying to watch the horror movie, which was one of my favorite movie’s, turned out to be a fail, and I had no choice but to give in to Mingi as he only stopped whining when he got what he wanted. And that was watching a rom-com from the nineties, called 10 Things I Hate About You. I’ve seen it numerous times already, but it never gets old. There is something about the way the actors play their parts, and the plot too, that have me coming back to it with the same enthusiasm I had for it when watching it for the first time. At first, I thought Mingi hadn’t seen it and had only went along with my suggestion because he didn’t know what else to watch, but when he started quoting Patrick’s lines as if he were the character himself, I narrowed my eyes at him and poked his arm. After some painful jabs, he admitted that it was his favorite movie and he regularly rewatched it, especially if he was in a bad mood. That was a piece of information I wasn’t expecting from someone like Mingi. He looked like a guy who enjoyed tough and brutal movies, with the occasional romance movies if a pretty girl begged him to watch it together. Turns out, Mingi’s favorite genre is romance, and he hates horror, and depends on the type of thriller whether he likes it or not.

We found ourselves joking and laughing throughout the movie, making our own commentary about it after our first disagreement. Which was about whether Patrick accepting the money to charm Kat was right or wrong. Of course, it was very wrong to play with someone’s feelings and get paid for it too, but Mingi argued that if he never accepted it, then him and Kat would’ve never gotten together. And for that, I threw in the hypothetical scenario of him accepting money from Wooyoung so that he could take me out on a date and make me fall in love with him if that meant Wooyoung could have Seulgi date him. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he declined such scenario, exactly proving my point why this was so wrong then, but he remained believing that for Kat and Patrick it totally worked out. And then he had the audacity to compare my stubbornness to Kat’s, making me call him just as stupid as Patrick was.

Time flew by as our laughter got louder, completely missing the way the rain had started to quiet down as we were immersed in the movie we were watching. It felt like a bubble was wrapped around us, isolating us from the cold world, and letting us enjoy ourselves without being so cautious of what we were saying. It felt nice. I couldn’t remember a time when I was able to let loose with someone other than Seulgi. It was a nice feeling, it made me excited in some way, completely making me forget that I was doing this with Mingi. He made it too easy to forget my worries and made me feel really comfortable all of a sudden, never stepping out of line—if we ignore his stupid flirting—and always keeping everything lighthearted. It was a nice change for once.

I groaned as I let my head fall back, lips pursed as my ass had gone numb from sitting so much in one place. Mingi snickered as Kat reversed into Joey’s car, clearly amused by the snarky remarks exchanged between the two characters. He was clearly into the witty exchanges, especially between Patrick and Kat, even having said that it makes Kat attractive how quickly and well she can shut Patrick down. I had told him that she wouldn’t have to do that if Patrick wasn’t so stupid most of the time, making Mingi roll his eyes at me, and say that I simply didn’t appreciate some good banter. Which wasn’t even true, I liked bantering if it had a smart purpose, not just to rile each other up, what was the point of that?

I licked my lips as my head lulled to the right, eyes falling on Mingi’s profile as he had his legs up, leaning forward as he hugged them around his knees with one arm. He was smiling and chuckling, pretty red lips pulled to the side, showing off his white teeth. His brows were dark, and his browbone being more prominent really sharpened his face in a very aesthetically pleasing way. Mingi’s face was very beautiful, and as an artist, I couldn’t help but admire it, and recognize it. So many pretty portraits of his face could be made, pity he doesn’t model. My lips pulled into a tiny smile at the thought of him modelling for me when we had to sketch human forms for our next class. I’m sure my professor would appreciate my drawings even more. Mingi’s glasses were discarded, and my eyes paused on his long nose, biting my lower lip just as Mingi chuckled again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sniffed before rubbing two fingers against his plump lips, wetting them not even a second later. I gulped as I suddenly wondered what they would taste like. It was such a startling thought that I jumped, but Mingi suddenly looking at me certainly scared me more. I gulped, instantly blushing as a friendly smile painted Mingi’s lips as he leaned back, placing his head on the pillow, and letting it roll to the left. Our gazes connected, and I wasn’t surprised to find my heart beating so quickly once again, my lips pulling into a straight line as I struggled to keep my breathing even. Mingi’s easy smile didn’t disappear as his eyes racked over my face, it only became wider.

There was a whole galaxy behind those beautiful deep brown eyes of his, they sparkled with life and an excitement I haven’t seen in anyone before. I wished that I could recreate that in my drawings, but I wasn’t good enough to give simple eyes such deep emotions yet. And I really wished I was able to do so, because the longer I stared into Mingi’s eyes, the more lost I got in them, thoughts and worries disappearing into nothingness. Mingi’s hand twitched for a second and I tensed when I felt a finger gently poking my cold hand. I gulped, but I wasn’t able to look away as ever so softly more fingers brushed against my skin like feather, Mingi’s bottom lip between his teeth. His actions were slow and cautious, probably afraid that I would pull away, but I was too captured by his alluring gaze to even think to move away from him. Slowly, his longer fingers intertwined with mine and his rings cut into my skin when I squeezed his hand, uncaring that it hurt a bit. I knew my cheeks were now surely very red, but I couldn’t actually be bothered to feel embarrassed, not when Mingi’s cheeks were dusted pink as well. His high cheekbones were flushed the pretties color they could have been, and I smiled as Mingi blinked, looking abashed. Somehow no words had to be exchanged between us, everything felt comfortable, scarily familiar. I haven’t felt like this…since my ex. And not even with him have I felt so safe and understood, it always seemed like there was some invisible barrier between us, and I never understood why. With Mingi, if I allowed myself to feel and be unafraid, no barrier lay between the two of us.

I gulped, eyes suddenly falling on Mingi’s lips as his tongue poked out just slightly to wet them, his plump lips red and full. I’ve never seen a person have such full lips, and it made me wonder if they were as soft as one would imagine them be. Aware that my eyes were glued to Mingi’s lips, I looked back up in his eyes, trying to ignore how insanely attractive his mole right underneath it made him look. There was something about Mingi’s bareface that was so charming and beautiful that it almost made me feel jealous of it. Mingi sniffed quietly, and his bottom lip was between his teeth again as his eyes fell to my lips, my rapid heartbeat halting for a second. Could he be having similar thoughts to mine? I wouldn’t know, but when Mingi’s eyes found mine again, they were just slightly more intense and sharper. Like he was determined and nothing could stop him. I gulped loudly as he moved his head, just lightly, but it was closer than before. My heart was beating like crazy, but almost as if I was under a spell, I found myself shifting my head just a little bit closer. Mingi’s eyes no longer were on mine, and as my lips parted when I licked them, I felt Mingi’s hand squeeze mine just a little bit more. I gulped as I proceeded to lean even closer, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s lips now too, just wondering and wondering infinitely if they were warm, soft, wet, and what they would taste like. I didn’t startle nor flinch when Mingi angled his body so that he could lean dangerously close, the bridge of his nose brushing against mine. His hot breath mingled with mine as our lips were parted, a pull so magnetic I couldn’t untangle myself from it even if I tried to. My eyes threatened to flutter closed as I pressed my nose against his, the side of our lips rubbing just a little together as I couldn’t breathe regularly anymore. Mingi’s lips pressed ever so slightly against the corner of mine, feather like, and it suddenly wasn’t enough. The distance, it was too big—even if it didn’t even exist between us anymore—and I squeezed his hand as I angled my head to finally press our lips together, Mingi’s breaths audible due to our proximity.

But suddenly, a door was slammed shut loudly, “Sweetheart, I made it home finally! I saw a car parked in front of our house, all’s good?!”

The curious and shrill voice of my mother sent Mingi and I flying away from each other, both of our eyes wide as I was panting, my whole body burning. I couldn’t look at Mingi as I scrambled to press pause on the movie and Mingi was off the bed in a flash, sprinting towards my window. I could still feel his hot puffs against my face, and I gulped as I forced myself to forget everything I felt just seconds ago.

“The rain stopped,” Mingi’s voice was hoarse, so gravely that I had to clench my fists to stop myself from doing something I would regret, “I will be going.”

“I’ll go downstairs, let my mom know you’re here.” My voice wasn’t better off, I sounded breathless. I felt lightheaded as I got off the bed, standing and pausing for a second.

“Right, I’ll change back into my clothes and then—”

“No,” I didn’t mean to sound desperate as Mingi’s eyes fell on me, I had to look away in embarrassment, “keep them, they are of no use to me.”

“Right.” Mingi cleared his throat and I quickly walked past him, thankful that he stepped aside, and hurried out of my room and down the stairs. I took a deep breath to compose myself as I heard my mother placing down plastic bags in the kitchen. I needed to behave like everything was fine, when nothing was fine anymore.

“Hi!” My greeting was high pitched and way too cheery, my mother’s eyes narrowed when she saw me standing in the doorway, “Glad you made it home, the storm was awful.”

“It really was.” My mom grimaced as she continued unpacking the groceries, “You got home alright?”

“Yeah, uhm, actually,” I gulped and bit my lower lip as I heard Mingi coming down the stairs, “a friend from university drove me home as it was already raining, and he, uhm, stayed over. Because the rain was so bad he wouldn’t have been able to drive home. You know, safety measures and all.”

My mother paused and looked up at me with both of her eyebrows raised, “He?”

And on cue, Mingi appeared next to me, glasses pushed up on his nose adequately for once and hair not as messy as before, “Hello, my name is Song Mingi.”

“Nice to meet you, dear.” My mother’s eyes were glinting, looking way too happy for someone who was just introducing themselves. I was afraid of what would come, so, I grabbed Mingi’s arm and guided him towards the coat hanger.

“Mingi’s leaving, mom.” I said as I let go of his arm, averting my eyes as he wore his shoes and pulled on his jacket.

“Already?” My mom asked with a pout, coming to stand in the doorway, “Don’t you want to stay for dinner, dear?”

Mingi froze, eyes first finding mine before he looked at my mother with a polite smile, “Don’t worry, Mrs—”

“Oh, don’t be all formal with me, I hate that shit.” My mother chuckled and winked at him, “Call me Boyoung.”

Mingi gulped, seemingly taken aback by my mother’s behavior. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, knowing how surprising the contrast between my mother’s personality and mine was. Sadly, I haven’t taken after her when it comes to my attitude, but that’s fine.

“Well, Boyoung, thank you for your offer, but my friends and I actually agreed on dining out tonight.” Mingi’s excuse sounded real, so I knew he wasn’t lying. I gulped when my mother threw me a very slick glare, almost saying that this was my fault. I rolled my eyes, offended by her assumption.

“That’s a pity, dear,” My mother pouted, but soon a bright smile appeared on her lips, “But you are invited for whenever you feel like having dinner with us, right, my starlight?”

I tried not to glare at my mother for the outrageous nickname, especially when I saw Mingi’s lips twitch in amusement. I told her not to call me that in front of others so many times, “Right, mom.”

My mother chuckled, all too aware of my dislike for the nickname, before her eyes landed on Mingi again. There was a brief pause, one too awkward for my liking, and then Mingi was clearing his throat and opening the front door.

“Uh,” He made eye contact with me briefly, “talk to you later.”

“Wait,” My mother’s eyebrows furrowed as Mingi stepped outside, trying to adjust the strap of his backpack, “Aren’t those Yun—”

“Talk to you later!” I loudly said, making sure to send my mother a very alarmed look as Mingi froze for a second before he hummed quietly and took off towards his car.

The air was chilly and humid due to the harsh rain, and as I closed the front door, I knew I had a lot of questions to answer when my eyes fell on my mother’s amused face.

❱❱ Next chapter

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lol, this is the surprise I mentioned...I saw this post and it would just not leave my mind, besides, I think it's very fitting for our plot, no?

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luvyeni · 1 year

Note

Sorry if you have alot of other reqs but when you have time, may you write about haechan lifting his hand to fix his hair or something during an argument but you think he's going to hit you so you flinch but when he tries to comfort you, you walk away

"oh my god , get over it already , she didn't mean any harm." your boyfriend yelled , you guys had been arguing ever since you returned home from your night out with friends.

"haechan , are you serious , she was all over you , everyone at the table was uncomfortable." you argued back , haechans old childhood friend had returned and she joined you guys — of course you didn't mind it , you loved meeting his friends, but she made it real obvious that she didn't like you , nor did she respect your relationship.

ignoring you when you spoke , or talking over you , not to mention she wasn't even subtly with her flirting with haechan. "she is always like that , she's always been touchy." he said , not really seeing the point of your childish outburst. "haechan , you barely said anything to me tonight , and now your disregarding my feelings." he scoffed.

"is this because i didn't give you all my attention , goddamn it y/n you're acting like a child !" your eyes widened , he never raised his voice at you , knowing how in previous relationships your partners would often yell at you , he never wanted to feel like you did before.

"it's not about th— give it a fucking rest y/n !" you didn't even mean to , but when you saw his hand go up , it was just like muscles memory to step back , flinching.

"did you think i was going to hit you?" he said , letting his arms fall to his sides. "did you seriously think i was gonna hit you?" he moved closer you. "i would never hit you baby , i'm not him , i swear." he felt really bad , the way your eyes glassed over with tears.

"baby , please , please don't cry im sorry." he went to hug you , but you held your hand up , stopping him. "don't touch me." your voice was shaky , scared. "please just don't touch me." he didn't move , not wanting to make things worse.

"i'll go stay with a friend tonight , i don't want to be here right now." you got off the bed , grabbing your bag. "please don't go." you guys rarely fought like this , and even if you did , you never left , you always worked it out.

he could only watch you pack up your things , not saying anything, not even sparing him a glance before you walked out.

he seriously fucked up...

#nct angst #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct dream x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles #kpop x reader #haechan x reader #haechan angst #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #haechan drabbles

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alexfromjersey · 10 months

Text

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 & 𝓐𝓻𝓰𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼

jenna ortega x g!poc

summary: two months go by after the premiere of Scream 6. after not speaking for a month, Jenna finds you and has some intense news to share.

warnings: mature language, angst, fluff, mentions abortion

a/n: I'M NOT SCARED OF LIONS, AND TIGERS, AND BEARS...oh and I totally forgot that the Met was May 1 sooooo pretend it was a little bit later in the month. 3.7k words

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

MAY 2023

Life has certainly skyrocketed for you after you released your vlog of the Scream 6 red carpet premiere. Everyone loved the funny moments between you and Davis and the cast appearances. The fans also noticed the interaction between you and Jenna, which blew up. You gained a lot more followers, going from 16.6k to almost 50k in a couple of weeks.

It was a tad bit overwhelming, having more eyes on you but it’s what you signed up for. You just had to adjust.

“Chat, I got word that my special package is coming soon for the stream. I’m mad excited to show y’all this shit” You beamed.

You sat back in your gaming chair wearing black basketball shorts and a black tank top. You had your reading glasses on because you were blind as fuck. You just finished playing the new season of Call of Duty and now you were talking to your chat for the last hour of your stream.

Lately, you’ve noticed that you've lost focus a little bit. Ever since that night with Jenna, it replayed on your mind over and over again. The way her lips felt against yours, the sounds she let out when you pleasured her, and her beautiful body.

You hate to admit it but you were starting to feel the actress. You’ve had your fair share of women, some that were relationships and some that were just for fun. But you never felt this way about a girl before and it kinda scared you.

“When are you releasing new music? Whenever I can find studio time. On some real shit chat, I’ve been writing a lot more lately and I really wanna hit up the studio so anyone that can squeeze me in, DM me please” You spoke to chat.

It didn’t help that Jenna stopped contacting you after a month and some change. You haven’t gotten any DMs, texts, or FaceTime calls in weeks. At first, you figured she was busy doing her job and she didn’t have any time to talk. A quick little text would be enough though.

But you had to remember that y’all are not together. No use of crying over spilled milk. Davis was upset when you told him.

You stupid motherfucker - again his exact words.

“I haven’t looked at my Reddit in a minute, let’s see what’s happening there,” You said and clicked to Reddit.

The first thing that popped up was a picture of you and Jenna at the restaurant. The caption said, “not Jah tryna rizz up MY WIFE!?!?”

You continued to scroll through the Reddit seeing nothing but edits of you at the premiere. There were some edits and pictures of you and Jenna with outrageous captions which made you laugh. You continued scrolling through and interacting with chat for the last fifteen minutes before getting off for the night.

Now you are bored and hungry. You threw on your slides and grabbed your accessories before leaving the apartment. You were craving a baconeggandcheese on an everything bagel from the bodega around the corner.

( your outfit ^ )

You got to the bodega and ordered your sandwich, grabbed a soda, and some snacks for the rest of the night. About five minutes later, your sandwich was done. You bid goodbye to everyone in the store including the cat at the register before heading back towards your apartment. However, the loud sound of a horn can be heard throughout the night air. You ignored it, thinking it was not for you, and kept walking. But the horn sounded again and a heavy-tinted black SUV pulled up next to you. You were on guard now, you thought you were about to either get got or robbed. You freed your left hand just in case, you had to pull out the tool. But then the back passenger side window rolled down and a familiar face was seen.

“Yo Hollywood, word to you was about to get got. Why you roll up on me like that?” You questioned as you relaxed seeing her face.

“We beeped the horn twice to get your attention” Jenna replied.

“This is New York, car horns are heard every second and can mean various things. We beep and shout out the window here” You joked.

A small smile appeared on her face for a second before she turned to someone in the vehicle with her.

“I need to talk to you…it’s important” She mumbled loud enough for me to hear.

“Nah I ain’t getting in shit. You ghost me for a month and then roll up on me like this. How did you find me anyway?” You questioned.

“Davis…I called him. It took a while for him to tell me where you lived but after I expressed how important it was, he gave it to me. Look, I know we haven’t spoken in a month and there’s a reason for that. If you would just get in the car, I will explain everything” Jenna answered.

You sighed, contemplating getting in the vehicle or not. But after a small inner battle, you walked to the back driver's side and got in the SUV. Inside the vehicle was the driver, an older woman in the passenger seat, Jenna, and a boy who looked around your age. You were highly confused about what was happening.

“Where are we going?” You asked anyone.

“Somewhere we can talk privately” Jenna answered when no one did.

You hummed in response, you looked down at her and took in her appearance. She was dressed in Adidas pants and an oversized sweater. She had shades covering her eyes which you found odd since it was nighttime. She kept picking at the sleeves of her shirt and bouncing her leg nervously.

A clear throat made you look away from Jenna to the unknown boy next to her. He was glaring at you and clenching and unclenching his fist. You raised an eyebrow at him before you snorted. Jenna turned to you at the sound but you didn’t spare her another glance.

You took out your sandwich and began chowing down on it. It was getting cold and you didn’t know how long this talk was gonna take.

Shortly, you all arrived at a building, it looked like an office building. You finish your meal and throw away your trash before following everyone inside the building. You all walk to the back of a conference room.

“Okay, so what’s this all about? Cause homeboy over there look like he wanna pop off” You said and pointed to the boy sitting next to Jenna.

“Jahaziel, I’m Nancy, Jenna’s manager and that gentleman next to her is her friend Hudson Maverick. It’s to our newfound knowledge that, you and Ms. Ortega slept together two months ago right?” Nancy inquired.

“I don’t really put my business out on who I sleep and don’t sleep with, with strangers.” You gave a fake smile to the older woman.

Nancy sighed and ran her hand through her hair, “Jahaziel I’m -.”

“For godsakes Nancy will you just spit it out already to this girl” Hudson interjected.

“I don’t know how to come out with something like this Hudson. I told you Jenna should be the one talking” Nancy sighed frustrated.

You looked back and forth between the two with agitated eyes. They were wasting your time.

“Listen, if this is about you worrying about running around tell people that we slept together, I’m not that kind of person. I don’t go around telling people who I stick my dick in no matter if they famous or not. So if this is what everything is about, you could have just emailed me” You said and went to leave the room but a soft voice stopped you.

“I’m pregnant”

You stopped in your tracks, Hudson and Nancy quieted down. It was so silent in the conference that you can hear a pin drop in the next room. You turned around to face Jenna who stood up from the table and pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red and puffy like she’s been crying for days and hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep.

“What?” You whispered.

“Can I talk to her alone please?” Jenna asked quietly.

Nancy and Hudson looked at each other for a second before nodding. The two got up and left the room, leaving only you and Jenna.

Jenna stepped towards you, "I'm pregnant. I found out a few days ago when my period didn’t come on. It didn’t come on last month either but I thought it was due to the stress I was under cause it’s happened before. I haven't slept or eaten properly. All I've been doing is crying and crying, wondering how I'm going to tell you. Then I got the courage to finally tell you but then Hudson found the pregnancy test and they started bombarding me with questions."

You felt your heart pick up pace and your palms started to get sweaty. You felt like the oxygen in your body was leaving, you couldn’t breathe. You stumbled into a seat and that’s when Jenna noticed your state.

“Hey Jahaziel, look at me, breathe okay,” Jenna said and kneeled in front of you. She placed her warm hands on your cheeks and forced you to look at her but you were too busy freaking out.

“I’m a fucking dumb ass bitch, I fucking got a big ass actress pregnant. An actress I barely even know. Do you understand how fucking insane this whole thing is? I just started this YouTube shit, I still live in an overpriced shitty-ass rat-infested apartment complex in a neighborhood where I don’t know if once I step outside I’ll get shot or not. How the fuck you not freaked out right now” You ranted.

“You don’t think I’m losing my mind? Ever since I found out, I have a fucking panic attack every time I wake up. I’m twenty years old, I just booked several movies. I don’t have any time to have a child.” Jenna exclaimed.

“Well, it seems like you getting an abortion is the only option then” You argued.

“Don’t make that decision for me” Jenna boomed.

“What the fuck! You just fucking said that you won’t have any time to have a child. What the fuck you gonna do Jenna? Are you gonna fucking wish the baby out of you and everything will fall into place in an instant? You fucking Harry Houdini now?” You yelled, your Bronx accent getting heavy as you shouted.

“Oh you are just fucking hilarious, huh, your a fucking comedian” Jenna growled.

“You not saying what you want to do! You say you don’t have time for a child then when I say abortion is the only option, you fucking lash out at me.” You roared.

“Because I don’t want to get an abortion, I want to keep the baby!” Jenna belted. You looked at her face properly now and saw tears were now falling freely down her face. You closed your eyes and take a deep breath in, holding it for ten seconds, before releasing it. You repeated this process a couple of times before you felt yourself calm down. It was a technique the Marines taught you while you were in service, it came in handy most times.

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Being a mom was something I knew I wanted to experience. Having a little mini-me running around with my and my partner’s personality. The experience came a lot earlier than I expected and not the ideal way but I have the chance and I’m not passing it despite what I said because I’ll figure it out. I always figure it out” Jenna confessed.

She then pulled out a folded Manila envelope and slid it toward you.

“So if you don’t want anything to do with me and the baby, you can sign your rights away. Nancy’s number is on that business card and she’ll come pick up the papers in the morning” Jenna continued.

She then got up and walked out of the room.

“Jenna” You called out but she was long gone out of the room with her people following her.

You sighed and rubbed your hands down your face, extremely stressed out.

Honestly, you didn’t know what you wanted to do. You never thought about being a parent, especially after the way your father up and left you, your Mom, and your older brother years ago. You never gave parenthood a thought. You needed a second opinion and a blunt.

🤰🏻🩵

It was now 2 in the morning, you sat on your fire escape looking down at the streets with the papers in your hand. You just finished your second blunt of the night to help with the racing thoughts but it only increased it. You kept staring at the signature on the paper, wanting to write your name but not wanting to also.

“You stress anymore, you gon’ pop a blood vessel” Davis said as he stepped out onto your fire escape.

Once you found a way back home, you immediately called Davis and told him everything that happened. He told you as soon as he finished with his project, he was rushing over.

“I feel like I’m about to have an aneurysm,” You said.

“I would be too if I was in your position. This shit is a mess” Davis stated and took the papers from your clenched hand. He looked over it and exhaled deeply. “So you sign this and all your rights are taken away. No seeing the baby. Nothing?”

“Nothing. I won’t have a say in anything, can’t see them. I’ll literally just be the sperm donor” You said.

“Is that what you really want? To be known as the sperm donor. You realize that she’s a mega actress and once the news gets out, it ain’t gon’ be long til people figure who the other parent is” Davis stated.

“I don’t know what I fucking want. A part of me is ecstatic that I have a child on the way.” You exclaimed.

“What about the other part?” Davis questioned.

You sat in the chair with cloudy eyes. Once Davis got a look at your expression, he immediately realized what this was all about.

“Your father. You don’t want to end up like him” Davis nodded.

“It’s been six years and that motherfucker still finds a way to haunt me. It’s pathetic” You scoffed.

“No, it's human. Jah, he is your father-”

“Was. That bitch ass motherfucker ain’t shit to me now” You seethed.

Davis sighed, “Either way, who said you was gonna end up like him. You plan on signing those papers and ditching your child? That ain’t you.”

You looked down at your hands, finding them more interesting.

“Look, all those feelings you feeling right now…is that how you want your child to feel about you when they grow up. That you ain’t nothing but a bitch ass motherfucker?” Davis questioned.

You took in your best friend’s words. “Look I know this whole situation is unconventional but you have to own up to it. You and I both know for a fact that you don’t want to sign these papers. You want to be in your child’s life. So stop being a fucking idiot, rip up those papers, and apologize to Jenna.”

Suddenly, the alarm on Davis’ phone starts to blare. You checked the time and saw that it was almost 3 o’clock now.

“I have to get some rest for tomorrow. But on some real shit Jah, really think about what you want” Davis added before disappearing inside your apartment.

Once again, you were left alone on the fire escape with nothing but your thoughts and the occasional crackhead shouts. You looked down at the papers again before shoving them back into the envelope and heading inside for the night.

🤰🏻🩵

The next morning, you were up and ready. You only got like an hour of sleep but that hour of sleep gave you a mindset. You texted the number on the business card and finesse your way to getting information about where Jenna was going to be today. She had a fitting for her Met Gala dress at the moment at a studio Downtown, so that’s where you were. You parked your car and paid the meter before heading inside the studio where she would be.

(your outfit for today ^ )

You texted the number that you were downstairs with the papers. After waiting for about ten minutes, you expected to see Nancy but Hudson came downstairs.

“Jahazel or whatever you name is…” Hudson greeted with no emotion. He held his hand out, waiting for the papers but you never put them in his hands.

“Firstly it’s Jahaziel and secondly, I know I’m probably the last person she wants to see right now and I don’t want to mess up anything she’s doing right now. But can I talk to her please?” You pleaded.

“Absolutely not. Not after what you said to her yesterday, I’m not letting a hoodlum like you step near her again. You ruined enough for her already” Hudson hissed.

“Who you calling a hoodlum skinny Fred Jones” You questioned offended. Hudson attempted to grab the papers from your hand but you moved them away. The move made his whole face start to turn red from anger.

“Give me the papers before I call the cops on you” Hudson threatened.

“Call the fucking cops pussy” You snapped and stepped towards him. Before either of you can lay a hand on one another, a brolic man stepped in between y’all. You recognized that it was Big L and he was pulling you away from Hudson while another security guard stood next to him.

“I need you to calm down” Big L’s rough voice ordered.

“Alright, alright I’m calm” You grumbled and pulled your arm from him.

“Listen, meet in the back alley in ten minutes” Big L instructed in a tone that only you and him can hear.

“Big L…my man you attractive and all but I don’t swing that way” You joked.

Big L rolled his eyes, “I’ll take you to see Jenna.”

“Oh, that makes more sense. I thought you were about to suggest something to me” You lightly chuckled.

Big L just looked at you with a neutral expression before walking away toward Hudson.

“Damn not even a little giggle?” You pouted as you left the building.

You waited in your car for ten minutes before going into the back alley like Big L said. He was waiting for you at the door and motioned for you to speed up. He then took you through various rooms and floors. By the 10th floor, your legs were jelly.

“Aye yo, Black Panther why didn’t we take the elevators? I’m not that fit like you. I’m skinny fit I was born with abs I didn’t work for these like you did” You complained out of breath.

“Because Hudson told every guard in the building to have you arrested for trespassing if they spot you” Big L answered.

“Is it really that serious though, you would think I be fucking aggressively stalking Jenna” You huffed and walked up another flight of stairs.

“Hudson has always been overprotective of Jenna, ever since he started working for her last year” Big L commented.

“Overprotective? For what reason?” You asked.

“Don’t know. I don’t get paid to ask unnecessary questions” Big L replied.

You hummed in response and walked up another two flights of stairs before Big L opened the door to the 13th floor. Big L checked to make sure no guard was in the vicinity before he motioned you to follow him. You felt like you were on a James Bond stealth mission, it was exciting. He took you to the last door on the floor before knocking.

“Ms. Ortega, Nancy will like to come in” Big L said.

“Okay, send her in” Jenna spoke after a moment.

That was your queue to enter the room. You closed the door behind me and took in that you were in an open floor room with racks of clothes against the windows. It smelt expensive as fuck in the room.

“What are you doing here?” Jenna’s voice brought you back to reality. She was standing in front of you with a familiar flannel on. It was buttoned to cover her chest area but unbuttoned around her stomach area. Through a tiny gap, you can see her belly protruding a little.

“I…uh wanted to talk to you” You spoke.

Jenna scoffed, “I think you spoke enough last night.” She walked away from you and into a different room.

“Wait, look I apologize for the way I reacted last night. It’s sincere too cause people from New York don’t apologize” You stated.

“If you came here to be a comedian, you can go Jahaziel” Jenna grumbled.

You sighed, you have to be serious. You can see that she’s stressed and not in the mood for jokes so you had to be serious. You walked up behind her and grabbed her shoulders. At first, she shrugged you off but you placed your hands there again and more firm. You turned her around to face you.

“Real shit, I’m sorry Jenna. For everything last night, you didn’t deserve me talking to you like that. Truth be told, I was mad scared when you told me that you are pregnant. My father up and left my family when I was 15 and it left some deep wounds in me. When I was younger I aspired to grow up, get married, have a family, and have a love like my Ma and Father did but then he left without saying a word and it tainted that aspiration. I got scared because I didn’t want to be like him” You explained to the shorter girl.

“You could have told me that. I would've understood completely” Jenna mumbled.

“I know and I should’ve but I’m not really good at explaining my feelings.” You responded.

Jenna glanced at the envelope in your hand, “I’m guessing you made your decision.”

“Yeah, I did” You replied and ripped the envelope in half. Jenna gave you a surprised look. “Look, me and you made this baby together even though we ain’t in a relationship…yet. I don’t want to be like my father. I also don’t want you to do this by yourself. Our baby, our responsibility. I’m with you to the end Hollywood” You smiled and stuck your hand out.

She looked down and chuckled before shaking your hand. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes and never stopped. The room felt hotter and your hand was still holding hers. Suddenly, Jenna took your hand and placed it on her small belly.

“Til the end NYC” Jenna smiled.

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23

#Spotify #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #g!p reader #jenna ortega x oc #nycxhollywood

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wooataes · 5 months

Text

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Nine)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Hanahaki!au, angst, alcohol consumption, swearing, jihoon has a panic attack, tears, nothing else too drastic this chapter 🙏🏼

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, DEAR READERS! Omg it’s been so long and I apologize for that! Hopefully this can tie yall over into the new year! 🥰 I hope you all got spoilt over the holiday period and enjoy this new chapter! 🫶🏼 ALSO shoutout to my girl Wei for pretty much cowriting this chapter with me 💜

- Tae 💜🌸

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“It’s you, isn’t it?”

Jihoon stares at your brother’s soulmate with wide eyes.

“Is what me?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Lee.” Jeonghan frowns, arms crossed tight across his chest. “Y/N. Are you her soulmate or not?”

Jihoon’s heart skips a beat as he pauses.

“What makes you think that?”

Jeonghan notes his avoidance of the question. “It all adds up a little too well. She found her soulmate the day you were supposed to walk her home. She avoids you like the plague unless she has to be near you. She can barely look in your direction but you stare at her like a lost puppy. I see you smiling about her when you think no one is looking. But… you have Ji-ah.” Your soulmate grimaces. “And knowing my Ladybug, which I do, she would never want to separate a couple if she can help it. She’s too selfless for that. She would give her worst enemy the shirt off her back if she thought it would help.” Jeonghan’s eyes look glazed over, tears filling them. “All of the evidence I’ve seen concludes that you’re her soulmate and she is tearing herself apart to keep you happy.”

“How do you know she is hurting?”

“She is drinking.” Jeonghan mutters. “She only ever drinks if she’s really upset about something. This is the only thing I can chalk it up to. Am I correct?”

“No. You’re wrong.” Jihoon lies through his teeth.

“I hope I am.” Jeonghan retorts quickly. “Because what I’ve heard from Soonyoung about you, you’re a great person.” Your soulmate winces as he feels the guilt seep in again. “I know someone wouldn’t willingly do this to someone as sweet as her.”

“You don’t know me.” Jihoon’s voice is small.

“You’re right. I don’t.” He agrees. “Look, I don’t care if you are or if you’re not. All I care about is that girl back there. If you are her soulmate, you need to stop giving her goo-goo eyes while you’re with another girl and giving her false hope. You need to cut the tether. Let the girl heal in her own way because you two being around each other is giving her hope of a relationship that will never happen.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried that?” He hisses. “I have tried to fucking avoid her and let her heal and let her forget about me!” There are tears in his eyes now.

“If I could change how it turned out, I would. I’m her fucking project partner and her best friend is my best friend. This stupid invisible force keeps drawing me to her and I’m hating it.” His words keep spilling out, the tears beginning to fall.

“I feel her cry every fucking night and I can’t do anything about it and help her without hurting someone else! And the worst part is that still despite everything, she hasn’t told anyone because she doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me! I don’t deserve her! I want to stop her suffering and leave her alone but I can’t! What am I supposed to fucking do?!”

Jeonghan sighs and stares at your soulmate in tears before him. “Is it stupid to say follow your heart?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “Then I say make your choice and make it quickly. I can’t stand to see that kid go through any more pain than what she has been through, you better be fast.” Jihoon winces as he watches Jeonghan turn around and begin to walk away. “Jihoon-ssi, Consider yourself lucky that it was me that noticed and not her brother. If it was him, you’d be dead where you stand. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” Jihoon whispers, running his fingers through his hair slowly.

“Good. I hope I don’t have to tell you to stop hurting her again.”

Jihoon stares up at the starry sky as Jeonghan makes his way back to the campsite, tears still falling down his cheeks. His mind is running a mile a minute, his lungs squeezing as he tries to control his breathing.

What the fuck is he going to do?

It takes Jihoon another 20 minutes before he makes his way back to the group, his brain just as jumbled as it was before. He is no closer to a solution than he was before being confronted by Jeonghan, and he is sure he isn’t going to have it by the end of the night. He looks to the picnic table first, looking to see you still wedged between Jisoo and Seungcheol, sipping from your third bottle of soju. Your eyes are glazed over as you lean quietly into Jisoo’s side, a dopey smile on your face as you laugh at Soonyoung. Jisoo’s arm is kept tightly around you, rubbing your arm soothingly as Seungcheol speaks in hushed whispers with his soulmate.

Jeonghan’s words have planted a seed of worry in Jihoon’s brain as he spots Seokmin watch his soulmate with adoring eyes, who is currently fawning over you. He really should figure out what to do with his fucked up situation, but for now, he makes his way to his housemates and his not-soulmate. He plants himself down in the camping chair next to Ji-ah, who doesn’t seem to notice his arrival. Instead, she is staring at her phone with a little smile forming on her face.

“Did your sister send you some dress ideas, babe?” Jihoon asks, the pet name leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

His presence startles Ji-ah, yelping and almost dropping her phone. “Huh?”

“I just asked if that was your sister.”

“O-oh.” She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Uhh.. yeah, just talking about cake flavor ideas.” She shoves her phone quickly into her pocket before he can see, cheeks flushed. Jihoon simply hums and nods as he leans forward slightly to listen in on Mingyu and Wonwoo’s conversation.

“No~!” Jihoon hears you whining as Seungkwan takes Seungcheol’s spot beside you. “I want it, Boo.” You jutt your bottom lip out as Seungkwan holds the bottle of soju above your head.

“Ah-ah. No.” His voice is firm. “That is bottle number three when you have had no food in you. It’s time to eat.”

“Why?” You sigh dramatically.

“Because you’re going to get alcohol poisoning.” Jisoo tries to encourage you.

“Maybe I want to get blackout drunk.” You huff.

“Maybe,” Seungcheol agrees with you, leaning against Seungkwan’s back as he held the alcohol high above your reach. “But in this family, we drink responsibly. You will get this back when you eat at least one bowl of rice and some meat.”

“Come on, you,” Soonyoung sits atop the table in front of you, holding the chopsticks full of food towards you. “One bite at a time.”

“No.” You grumble, turning your head away from him.

“If you eat, you get the soju back, Goober.” Jisoo encourages beside you, still rubbing at your arm as you look up at him. Your frown is still visible as he smiles down to you, nodding eagerly. After a long sigh, you open your mouth obediently as Soonyoung puts the awaiting food into your mouth.

“There we go!” Seokmin grins and claps happily at you.

“Good girl.” Jisoo praises, and your cheeks turn red as a small smile forms on your lips, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your soulmate.

Soonyoung wordlessly offers more food to you, which you take eagerly with Jisoo’s praises, but Jihoon can’t help but stare at your blushing cheeks and dazed smile at your brother's friend with each bite. For the upteenth time that night, Jihoon pushes down the uncomfortable feeling that settles in his stomach as he tries to remember Jeonghan’s words to tell him to move on from you.

Within five minutes, almost the whole plate is finished by you, your rosy cheeks puffed up as you look hopefully to Seungkwan. “I did good?”

“Hmm~” he hums appreciatively. “You sure did.” He grins, patting your head sweetly as he passes the soju to Jisoo.

“Now, you can have this back, but you gotta be good and drink slowly. Okay, Goober?”

“Yes, Shua-‘ppa.” You chirp through your last mouthful of food, and giggle gleefully as he passes the alcohol to you.

Jihoon purposely attempts to keep his back to you to avoid the temptation to keep an eye on you. You’re clearly tipsy at best, and too many nights of handling a drunk, clingy Mingyu have conditioned him to want to try and keep an eye on you to see if you’ll be just as destructive as your friend.

To his surprise though, for the rest of the night you stay by Jisoo’s side, nestled delicately against him. Jisoo doesn’t mind, on the contrary, he has kept up his conversations with the others well as his arm absentmindedly keeps you close, stroking your shoulder as he talks. You stay happily curled up, fiddling with a box of beads and string that Jisoo has brought for the trip, making bracelets as you hum drunkenly to yourself.

“Hyung,” Mingyu is whispering to your brother, standing by the fire near Jihoon’s seat, who can’t help but listen to his housemate speak. “Are you sure you should be letting Y/N-ie drink?”

“She’s not hurting anyone, is she?” Seungcheol deadpans, raising an eyebrow. “Look at her. She’s fine.”

Jihoon follows the line of view with Mingyu, observing you. You’re smiling quietly as you delicately place a purple flower bead onto the small plastic thread, Jisoo leaning down and whispering something in your ear, making you giggle and nudge his side before testing the length of the bracelet around his wrist.

“Aren’t they a little too close?” Wonwoo comments, a frown of concern on his face as your soulmate keeps his eyes on you tying the end of the bracelet around Jisoo’s wrist securely.

“If you’re trying to insinuate my friend would make a move on my sister, you’re wrong.” Seungcheol hums nonchalantly, taking a swig of his beer. “We were all close as kids. This is exactly like how they were.”

“Is Shua single, babe?” Jeonghan asks your brother, loud enough for Jihoon to hear. Jihoon frowns deeply, knowing what he is trying to do.

“I mean, he has a soulmate.” Seungcheol responds, Jeonghan keeping his eyes on Jihoon. “He hasn’t seen them for a long time, but he has one.”

“Interesting.” Is Jeonghan’s only response, sipping his drink as he eyes your soulmate’s obvious grimace.

Your giggles filled the comfortable silence for most of the relaxed evening as you watch Seungkwan nag to Soonyoung, wagging his finger in his face as the older boy starts to imitate him. The night has begun to quiet down now, nearing close to 1am as some of the group have retreated to their tents for the evening, leaving only Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Jisoo, Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Jihoon and yourself left awake. Although, you are clearly losing the battle of consciousness.

You’re currently on your upteenth bracelet of the night, blinking blearily as you place the rainbow beads carefully onto the thread as Jisoo, who now hasn’t left your side almost all evening, joins in as he seems to be making a necklace. Jihoon has been preparing to go back to his tent for a little while now, but he finds himself not able to rest until everyone else has. He stays put in his camping chair as he watches you and your friends wind down for the evening.

“Hey, you.” Seokmin leans over you, making you lean backwards against his front, relishing in his warmth as you hum in content.

“Hi.” You smile sleepily, watching as Seokmin reaches down to tie the bracelet against your wrist.

“Ready for bed, hm?” He smiles down to you as you begin to pout. Before you can speak, though, he laughs. “Come on, Bug, we are going into the city tomorrow to go to the beach. We need to rest so we can have a fun beach day.”

Jihoon can see the gears ticking in your head as you process his words, lip still in a deep frown. It’s cute.

“The bracelets will be here for you tomorrow, y’know.” Jisoo chimes in with a charming smile. “And we are all going to bed now so you won’t miss out.”

“Mm…Kay.” You yawn.

“C’mon.” Soonyoung coos, taking your hand as you rise, reaching up and rubbing at your eye tiredly. He wraps you in a fluffy blanket as he leads you to the large inflatable pool. He glances at Seungcheol and Jeonghan as he passes them, whispering. “Do you have the painkillers for tomorrow?” When they nod, he nods with approval before scooping you up and settling you down on the pillows beside his soulmate who takes you carefully.

“Ready for some stargazing?” Seokmin smiles as you nod silently, already leaning back and looking up at the clear, starry sky as Soonyoung lays down beside you. Your eyes begin to tiredly flutter closed, your head falling and resting against your best friend’s shoulder.

“I thought you said she wasn’t affectionate and cuddly with soulmated people?” Jisoo asked your brother curiously as you snuggle with your friends.

“Normally she isn’t.” Seungcheol hums.

“She’s been drinking, that’s why.” Jeonghan chimes in as he cleans the last of the rubbish on the table.

“Did you end up finding out why?” Your brother asks quietly. “She only ever does when something has really hurt her.”

Jeonghan pauses with a quick glance to Jihoon before shaking his head, a pang of guilt building inside him. “No. She wouldn’t tell me.”

“She will tell you about it when she’s ready, I’m sure.” Jisoo replies sagely with a smile that makes Jihoon almost scoff. He has known you for five minutes.

“Yeah, but…” Seungcheol sighs.

“Hey, no buts.” His soulmate smiles, pecking his lips. “She’s in the safest hands she could be in. And like Joshuji said, she will tell us when she is ready.”

After the others all made their way to their tents for the night, (and after a stupid longing stare at you resting in Soonyoung’s arms) Jihoon heaves a sigh as he steps into his small tent to see Ji-ah sitting straight up on the mattress, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Babe?” The name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that he chooses to ignore. It causes Ji-ah to jolt, not sensing his presence. “Is everything alright?”

“Jihoon,” she sighs nervously. “Something has happened. I… tomorrow when we go to the city I need to go home.”

“Wait, what?” Jihoon’s eyes widened as he crawled onto the mattress beside his not-soulmate. She tenses. “What’s happened? Do you need me to go with you?”

“No!” She insists quickly, making Jihoon jolt in shock. “I mean… no,” she takes a shaky breath and laughs awkwardly. “No.. it’s fine. I just need to get home as soon as I can.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” He reaches for her hand, which she hesitantly takes.

“Yes, I’m sure, babe.” She smiles, although to him it almost seems like a grimace. He pauses for a moment before nodding.

“Okay. I’ll get Jeonghan-ssi to take a detour on the way to the beach tomorrow.”

“Thank you…” she smiled again, a bit more genuine this time as they both moved to lay down to rest, although Jihoon doesn’t think he will be able to sleep any time soon - the memories of Jeonghan’s words and your heartbroken face playing over in his head on loop.

At the ripe time of 8:14am, Jihoon steps out of the tent with Ji-ah’s suitcase in tow, wincing at the bright sunlight shining through the trees on the campsite. He rubs at his eyes tiredly, glancing around at the state of the others.

At the early hour, only a few are awake and making breakfast for the (most likely) hungover others who are still resting. Jeonghan and Seungcheol man the barbecue, Jisoo putting all the food onto plates for everyone once they wake. Jihoon can’t help but frown a little at Jisoo before he glances over to where he knows he shouldn’t look.

Seokmin and Soonyoung are awake, sitting up and talking quietly to each other with a still resting you sleeping against Soonyoung’s chest. Your face is hidden from everybody, buried against the soft fabric of your best friend’s hoodie, protecting you from the brightness of the sun. Soonyoung is patting the back of your head as he speaks intimately with Seokmin, who is scratching your back absentmindedly. Jihoon watches for a moment, nose scrunching up slightly before he turns to make his way to your brother and his soulmate.

“Umm, Jeonghan-hyung,” Jihoon starts nervously. Hyung is fine, right? It’s respectful enough. “Can I please talk to you for a second?”

Jeonghan looks genuinely surprised at your soulmate standing before him, looking dare he says… scared? He’s amused as he watches Jihoon glance at your brother nervously for a split second. Your brother pays him no mind, still tending to the food so it doesn’t burn.

“Sure, give me a second.” He smiles, stepping out from behind the barbecue to the picnic table a few meters away, Jihoon trailing behind awkwardly.

“I’d like to ask a favor.” He can’t look Jeonghan in the face. If he was honest, his chat with him yesterday scared the crap out of him at the thought of your brother’s wrath. “It isn’t much, really…”

“What is it?”

“Ji-ah has had a family emergency come up.” He gestures to her suitcase by their tent. “I just wanted to ask if it was okay if we could pass by the train station on the way to the beach today? I can cover for fuel and-”

“Oh!” Jeonghan lets out an airy laugh. “Is that all?” Jihoon’s shocked at the change in his tone. “I thought you were going to tell me that you were going to do something stupid like ask me how to woo your soulmate.”

Jihoon gasps audibly as he quickly turns to look around to see if anybody overheard Jeonghan’s words.

“It’s fine, Jihoon-ssi.” He smiles. “Half of the guys are planning to go shopping in the city while we go to the beach anyway. No sweat.”

He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Oh.. thank you, hyung.” He nods slowly. As he turns away, he jumps slightly at the feeling of Jeonghan’s hand grabbing his wrist.

“It’s no problem.” His voice is suddenly icy. “But, for future reference, don’t think about asking me about how to win Ladybug’s heart unless you’re 100% serious, you hear me?” A small jolt of fear runs through him as he nods worriedly. And just as quick as he came, Jeonghan’s expression changes back to his happy demeanor. “Perfect! We are on the same page then! Good talk.” He claps him on the back before making his way to the food. “Now have some breakfast before it gets cold.”

The others are uncharacteristically quiet as they all climb onto the bus for the quiet ride into the city due to the copious amount of alcohol consumption from the night before. Seungcheol is amused at the sight of a hungover you climbing onto the bus and planting yourself down on a seat.

You pull a pair of sunglasses over your eyes, leaning your head on the headrest as you immediately attempt to curl up and get comfy. Seokmin sits beside you, smiling at you as you grab his hand, placing it directly on top of your head with an intelligible mumble. Seokmin seems to understand, though, as he carefully pulls what hair he can back, starting to braid it delicately and neatly as Seungkwan chuckles with Mingyu at how adorably clingy you can be when you aren’t worrying so much.

Jihoon is unfortunately in the seats directly behind you both with Ji-ah, a small frown on his face as he tries to not stare at you and your hair. He’s so close he can hear you almost purring with content as you start to drift off once more, his stomach twisting in pain as Jeonghan starts the bus to take off.

“Thank you again for keeping her company, last night, Jisoo.” Jihoon can hear Seungcheol murmur to his friend, who is sitting beside Soonyoung.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He chirps happily, the alcohol’s after effects clearly not bothering him. “I’ve missed my little Goober.” Jihoon scoffs quietly, glancing out the window to try and ignore the conversation but feels his blood run cold for a moment as Jisoo’s voice grows softer.

“Besides, she needed that last night - to be carefree and have someone be there for her the way someone who loves her can, even if it was just for a night.” Everyone understands what Jisoo is implying, including Jihoon as he spots your brother’s soulmate stare at him for a moment through the rear view mirror. He winces, glancing away from the intense gaze, opting to stare at the scenery that is his first home town for the remainder of the short drive.

“Thank you again for dropping me off here, Jeonghan-Oppa.” Ji-ah smiles politely as she stands by the door of the bus. “You could have dropped me with the others at the mall, I would’ve found my way here.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jeonghan smiles at her, having got out of the bus to stretch his legs for a moment. “It’s no trouble at all. I would have rather known you made it here safely and in one piece. I hope your emergency is able to get sorted out quickly.” He gently pats her arm as she smiles sweetly at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?” Jihoon asks her quietly, and she shakes her head with a smile.

“I’m keeping you guys enough as it is. Go enjoy the beach, kay?” She smiles. Jihoon nods with a little smile.

“Alright then. Message me when you get back home?” He leans in to peck her lips, only to be surprised when instead of her lips, his own meets her cheek.

“Will do, Hoon. Bye!” Ji-ah is quick to grab her suitcase, dashing towards the entrance to the station, leaving Jihoon dumbfounded at the foot of the bus.

Did she just dodge his kiss?

“Jihoon-ah.” Jeonghan’s voice calls to him. If he noticed anything unusual, he doesn’t comment. “You coming?”

Jihoon blinks out of his daze, nodding quickly before climbing back up into the bus and back into his seat.

Jihoon has always loved the beach. Even though he was, as Soonyoung would call it, a certified hermit, as a child he would always find himself spending his weekends at the beach with his parents if the weather called for it. He takes in a deep breath as he tastes the familiar salty air, a small smile of content on his face as he watches the waves lull lazily against the shore.

Only a small number of the group decided to join Seungcheol and Jeonghan at the beach, including himself, Seokmin, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Hansol, Jisoo and yourself. He was more than happy with anyone who decided to join them, with the plan being the whole group meet up for dinner at a hotpot restaurant to celebrate Seungcheol’s actual birthday before taking the party back to the campsite for drinks and games.

Seungcheol, Soonyoung and Mingyu are already in the water as Jihoon sits down on his beach chair under a large communal beach umbrella where he and the others have set up for the day. He watches as Seokmin sits with Seungkwan and Hansol, happily making plans for a large, elaborate sandcastle while Wonwoo and Jisoo sit quietly on their towels, having a quiet discussion together. He glances down at his phone to see if Ji-ah has texted him yet, and sighs quietly when he sees no notifications.

“Are you seriously not thinking about getting into the water today, Ladybug?” Jeonghan’s hums in the distance, drawing closer to Jihoon and their things. “I think the cool water would make your hangover better, wouldn’t it?”

“Nope.” Your voice is dull and monotone, mirroring the way you feel. “There are sharks in that water, I refuse.”

“Sharks wouldn’t come up to where the water meets your hips, pabo.”

“I refuse to take that chance.” You wave him off, Jihoon hearing your voices getting closer. “I like swimming in bodies of water that are condensed and clear enough so I know what I’m getting into.”

“Then why are you wearing the bikini if you don’t plan on getting in?” Jeonghan retorts. Jihoon gulps.

“Because I need the tan.” You bark back, Jeonghan simply chuckling as he tickles your sides, causing you (and Jihoon) to jolt and yelp.

Jihoon knows he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Against his better judgement, he turns his head towards where your voice is coming from, choking on his own spit as he sees you; hair braided and sunglasses covering your eyes. You’re wearing a pastel blue and white striped bikini, the little galaxies of your collarbone on full display as you make your way to a beach chair near where Wonwoo is situated.

Jihoon is so fucked.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@vixensss @ldysmfrst @hemmingsness @lizzymizzy-blogg @breakfastburritosattiffanys @im-gemmy @friendlywraith @devinkelsey19 @kameko-ko @mar-627 @woozieeeee @milopenne @stellauniverse @addicsvt @changbinisms @phenomenalgirl9 @lanatheawesome @maidachi @jeanjacketjesus @sunnynapp @jihanniee @jaeminsbuckethat @sweetchelly @claireleem @hotricewoozi @sumzysworld @lavayeon @unusuallyshy @woozixo @mirxzii @seventeenthingsblr

Permanent Taglist

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#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #lee jihoon angst #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #woozi fluff

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bafvkun · 7 months

Text

I just feel like talking about how deep Mikayu’s bound runs don’t mind me (HEAVY spoilers ahead).

Lets get this straight : i don’t care if you ship them or not (even if you would be a fool not to) but no one can deny that they’re literal soulmates and I’m gonna show you exactly why.

Yu and Mika were ALWAYS bound to find each other and reunite. I’m not saying that because I’m delusional it’s literally canon. Their relationship is as old as dinosaurs and once again : this is canon.

Yu (or should I say Mika but like whatever if you didn’t read the scans it would take an eternity to explain) was literally created for Mika. The sole purpose of his existence was to look after Mika and be his only friend. Since day one they were ment for each other.

They swore on every stars and defied fate itself that they will always found each other again no matter how many times they die or get taken away from the other in a way or another, no matter their race, age or era.

There I was talking about the first versions of them, but let’s talk about the main one, the one we all know in the anime and throughout the whole manga, Yuichiro and Mikaela Hyakuya.

Mika was the first one in this life to get Yu to open his heart, to make him accept his fate and push him to make the best of it. Yu was just a traumatized child that almost got killed by his own parents yet Mika made him feel like he belonged somewhere, he showed him that family wasn’t always meant to be bound with blood.

When Yu lost Mika it was like he lost all hopes, for the longest time Yu was suicidal, already from young age and this loss just made him feel so much worse. Yes the loss of his whole new family, including Akane and the kids was bad for him, but deep down what truly broke them was the loss of one another.

Years later they reunited, Mika like Yu both changed deeply because of their own experiences and yet their relationship stayed unchanged. Just the dynamic between them switched, Yu was now the one to convince Mika that he could trust his new family (Glenn and his own squad).

One day my mom told me « if when you reunite with a long lost friend and it feels like not even a day has passed, then it’s real friendship » and it’s been proven to me that this is true, Mikayu being yet another exemple of this.

As a vampire Mika doesn’t feel much anymore, it’s said loud and clear that turning into a vampire takes away from you any vulnerability, any love or lust. Yet Mika feels so vividly for Yu, it runs so much deeper than his own nature. His loyalty towards him is beyond any words could ever describe.

And it’s also so damn obvious how Mika is just so grumpy with anyone but smiles whenever Yu is around. He didn’t smile for anyone else than him throughout the manga, Yu is his literal everything, he is the only one that brings him peace and joy.

Now we skip forward a bit, Yu and Mika are in a deadly situation and against everything Mika dies. First let’s get the obvious out of the way, his last words were « Yu, I love you. ». I mean. There’s nothing more straightforward than that.

But then, when a vampire dies he becomes a demon, so of course Yu had to take him as his cursed weapon. So that’s exactly what he did, after so much struggle that I will pass here he finally got to talk with Mika and have a contract with him.

But the thing is when a vampire dies and becomes a demon he loses all his memories from his previous life, so Mika didn’t remember Yu at all. Yet, despite everything their bound didn’t die, quite the contrary. Even before they did the contract, so before Mika had access to Yu’s memories, there was still something inside him that screamed « that guy is important to me », even if he didn’t understand where it came from.

All the memories Mika had of Yu after that was again : from Yu’s own memories.

And what Mika saw broke him, the desire to die was so overwhelming even in his demon form he found himself speechless and hurt. He didn’t remember Yu but he knew that he was important to him more than he could ever tell. And he didn’t only see their memories together, he saw Yu’s whole life, the moment with his parents, the years they spent apart, Yu and Glenn’s relationship and his new family, he saw everything.

He swore his loyalty to him yet again, ready to do anything for him and face the end of the world hand in hand with him. And of course, even when he lost his memories Yu never once doubted him and that he would still follow him.

Now. I’ve been talking a lot about Mika’s love for Yu but what about the other way around ? Moving forward in the story again Glenn revealed something to Yu, his squad and Mika that left a dilemma hanging in the air. Yu had to chose between humanity and Mika. And what did he do ? He chose Mika, betraying not only Glenn, the man that save him physically and psychologically and that he respected the most in the world, not only his squad with who he shared ups and downs like a family but humanity itself for the survival of Mika.

If this doesn’t speak volumes to you I don’t know what will. Yu sacrificed EVERYTHING down to his own survival just to spend one more day with Mika. Now not only vampires, demons and angels were against him, but humanity too all for the sake of one man.

Both of them constantly put their whole life and universe on the line for the other and they always do it in a heartbeat, like any other decision would just be unthinkable.

They had so many discussions that made clear how deeply their feelings for one another go, no matter if you interpret it as brotherly or romantic love. They confessed to each other so many times how they can’t live without the other, how life is meaningless if the other isn’t around. How there’s not even a point in trying to live if it isn’t to face tomorrow together and how each other’s happiness is more important than anything else in the world.

Both of them held on solely for the other, both of them are still breathing and living their truth thanks to nothing else than one another.

Their love is so fucking beautiful and pure, it stayed untouched through generations and generations of them.

Mikayu is an amazing ship and anyone would be a fool to not read Seraoh of the end just to witness such utter and raw love.

#seraph of the end #owari no seraph #mikaela hyakuya #mika hyakuya #mika x yuu #mikayuu #mika #yuu hyakuya #yuuichirou hyakuya #yuichiro hyakuya #mikaela x yuichiro

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harryscherrypie · 2 years

Text

You pop, when we get intimate

husband!Harry Styles x fem!reader

summary - how your moans made their way into the background of cinema

warnings - smut, poorly written, slight voyeurism? Harry wants to put your moans in a song so yeah, fluff

wordcount - 2,8k

a/n - Oh god, this one physically drained me. I've been writing it since like august, but the smut never came out right, I hope you like this one, my second smut ever and I'm still a bit awkward writing it so patience, please.

If you have any feedback on my writing, please let me know, it would help tremendously,

Hope you enjoy it.

----

“You want to what?” You almost screeched as you looked at Harry with wide eyes.

“You heard me right,” he smirked.

You knew Harry could be unhinged when it came to his music. In his previous work, he wasn’t afraid to use intimate bits and pieces of your relationship, just to complete the storytelling. But this was too much, even for him.

“You are absolutely crazy,” you laughed and shook your head.

He had to be joking. Right?

This wasn’t what you were expecting today. You and Harry were both at home. You were working on a project for work and he was working on songs in his home studio. After being locked away in there for about 5 hours straight he came out into the kitchen and nonchalantly asked the craziest question you’ve ever heard.

“Will you let me put your moans into one of my songs?”

“Look, we don’t have to do it, I understand if you are uncomfortable, but I think it would go in the song perfectly,” he shrugged as he moved closer to the couch, where you were sitting. He crouched in front of you and you opened your legs to make space for him between your legs.

“I don’t know Har,” you mumbled as you leaned closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. It was an awkward position but you didn’t mind, you were glad to finally have him with you after he spent the few previous hours locked away in his studio.

“As I said, baby, if you are uncomfortable, it’s out of the window, you know I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he kissed your cheek gently and placed his forehead against your temple.

“Let me think about it hm?” You asked and he nodded happily.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours softly.

----

That was 2 weeks ago, and to be honest, you thought about his question non-stop. You roughly knew what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to put your moans to the forefront of the song. He wanted them in the background, just loud enough to slightly hear over the music, he didn’t think anyone would catch onto them after the first listen, and that calmed your mind slightly.

Harry was spending the night at his studio in the city when you decided to agree to his proposition. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend nights at the studio. He always said that he felt the most inspired when he worked alone and during the night, and you could understand that.

You retyped the text a few times before you hit send. Just a couple of minutes later, a long voice message came from Harry.

“Oh my God, are you for real? Are you 100% sure? I don’t want you to do this just because I wanted it, please tell me you are sure,” even though he sounded concerned, you could hear a tinge of hope and happiness in his voice.

“Yes, I am sure, I know you would never do anything to hurt or embarrass me, I trust you with my life, Harry,” you sent back a voice message and quickly moved to gather your stuff and get to the studio.

It wasn’t far away, only about 15 minutes from your shared apartment. You listened to a podcast you started listening to while you were working earlier that day as you drove towards the studio.

You parked in the parking lot beside the studio and got out. The lights in the entire building were out, only reassuring you that Harry was in the building alone, maybe except for a couple of security guards, who were going to stay on the bottom floor, so it didn’t bother you.

You walked into the building and greeted the security guard who had a shift that night. You handed him your ID for him to check your name on the list of people who have access and wished you a good night.

You took the elevator to the rented studio, which was on the 8th floor. As the elevator slowed down, you called Harry to let you in.

“Hey, I’m here, can you let me in please?”

“Of course, love, I’m going to be right there,”

You only waited for about 2 minutes, before the door opened up and your husband appeared.

“Hey,” he smiled and pulled you towards him. He rested his chin against your shoulder as he gently swayed your bodies from side to side. You reveled in the feeling for a few moments before he slowly pulled away.

“Come on,” he tugged on your hand and pulled you into the studio with him.

He locked the door behind the two of you and led you towards a small couch in the back of the room. He sat down, pulled you right on top of him in one fluid motion, and rested his palms on your hips.

“I missed you,” he mumbled as he peppered small kisses around your face.

“I missed you too,” you smiled and rubbed his back gently.

“Baby, are you absolutely sure?” He asked concerned.

“Do you want me to change my mind? Because it sounds like you do,” you teased as you swiped your fingers around the surface of his cheeks.

“Let me get things ready, drink some of my tea if you want, it should be still hot,” he smiled and handed you the mug full of herbal tea.

You took the mug into your hands and blew on the tea gently. You watched Harry as he toyed with the soundboard and the computer from the couch. After a few minutes, you placed the mug on the table in front of you and stood up.

You moved towards him as quietly as you could, trying to scare him. He squealed lowly as you dug your fingers into his sides. You wrapped your hands around him while he quietly laughed at your antics. You raised to your tippy-toes and placed your chin on his shoulder.

“You little minx,” he smiled and opened up a program on his computer screen.

“Are you done?” You asked and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Almost, be patient,” he mumbled. Your eyes wandered from the screen to the profile of Harry’s face. You allowed yourself to admire him for a while before he spoke up.

“I can see you staring,” Harry said absentmindedly.

“I am getting bored and horny, so hurry up,” you whined jokingly.

“I am done, the mic is on, we can go in,” he turned around and pulled you into him. He kissed you gently, and unhurriedly. Even though the both of you knew what was going to happen in the next few minutes, the kiss didn’t get steamy. It stayed soft and gentle as if to bring each other comfort.

“You can still say no, you can always say no, I won’t get mad,” he reminded you as he placed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes in bliss.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes. “You told me like 5 times already,” you joked and he ‘tsked’ and raised your chin to keep you looking at him.

“I want you to be comfortable, and know that you can back out anytime you feel like it is becoming too much,” he stroked your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgment and tugged at his hand.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” you said.

“Eager, are we?” he teased but complied and let you lead him to the booth.

“You were hopeful, weren’t you?” You teased when you saw the inside of the booth. There were blankets and pillows strewn across the floor, with some towels and water bottles to the side. Your heart fluttered. You couldn’t have asked for more. The fact that he went out of his way to do this to try and make you feel more comfortable made your heart squeeze inside your chest.

“Guess you could say I had a hunch,” he winked jokingly and pulled you into the booth. He pulled you to sit down on the floor which was cushioned by the soft pillows.

“It’s so cozy, I love it,” you mumbled as you ran your hands over the soft fabric around you.

“Only the best for you, my love,” he smiled.

“C’mere baby, let me kiss you,” Harry pulled you onto his lap and quickly pressed his lips to yours. You stayed like that for a while. Pressed up against each other, lips moving against each other.

“Turn around baby, sit between my legs, it’s going to sound better that way,” he whispered into your ear and you complied. You shifted your weight and turned around, careful not to hurt him. You nested between his legs and pressed your back against his chest. You felt him lean against the wall behind him and get comfortable.

When the both of you got comfortable, you turned your head to the side, so you could face him.

“How are we going to do this?” You asked curiously.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be able to fuck you unless I want all of the moans in the background to be mine, so that’s out of the window,” he grinned and kissed your neck.

“Yeah, you tend to be just a tiny bit loud,” you smiled and raised your hand with a small space between your thumb and pointer finger.

“Get your shirt off, woman,” he jokingly ordered and you raised your hands above your head.

“Get it off yourself,” you smiled. The shirt landed somewhere to your right. You didn’t have time to look because Harry pulled you into a kiss immediately after the shirt stopped touching your skin. He didn’t waste any time and cupped your breasts in his hands. He kneaded the soft flesh roughly, making you moan into his mouth.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against your lips as he ran the tips of his fingers over your stomach and hips. You moaned at his praise softly and raised your hips off of the ground slightly, trying to tell him you wanted him to slide your sweat pants off of your legs.

Harry knew you like the back of his hand, and immediately understood what you wanted from him.

“Raise your hips for me, love, just a bit,” he murmured against the side of your face and you complied, air leaving your lungs at his words, wrapping your arm around the back of his neck to get some stability. He swiped the fabric of both sweat pants and your underwear from underneath your butt, and down your legs.

“Straighten your legs,” he ordered and you did, just for him to hook his knees around your legs and pinning them to the ground, spread out. You let out a shaky breath, tensing up from the sudden cold feeling touching your hot core.

“Relax against me, and let me do the work,” you nodded your head desperately and you laid your head against his shoulder, burrowing your face in his neck.

At first, he didn’t do anything. His slight touches were teasing and almost non-existent, dancing over your heated naked skin.

As his hand traveled down, over your thigh, it nestled itself on your inner thigh, incredibly close to where you needed him, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

He was so, so close when he suddenly started to pull away. In the deep feeling of desperation, you forcefully closed your legs and pried them from underneath his, with a loud whine.

“Please, don’t do this to me,” you whined and Harry tsked disapprovingly.

“Be good for me, or you won’t get anything,” he threatened, and you nodded understandingly. You knew he wouldn’t do that to you, after all, he needed this but you knew the longer you would misbehave the longer it would take for him to properly start.

he pined your legs underneath his again, this time a lot firmer than before and his hand went back to the place it was before.

This time around, he didn’t waste any time and dived straight in. He pulled your hood apart with two fingers, leaving your pulsing clit uncovered in the slightly cold air of the recording booth. He smeared your wetness over his fingers and started rubbing soft circles on your clit, making you lean back into him a little more, feeling a jolt of electricity flash over your spine.

“Is that good lovie?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You nodded vigorously, letting a breathless moan tumble out of your mouth. He didn’t take his time easing you into the feeling, as he started rubbing your clit a bit more roughly.

You didn’t understand how he did it, but you already felt the familiar knot forming in your stomach. The feeling of the cold rings pressing against your heated skin only made the motions of his skilled fingers make you feel so much better.

You could feel his fingers starting to explore, the thumb circled your clit and the rest went downwards until you felt them prodding against your wet hole.

“Please, give me your fingers,” you moaned out and he kissed the side of your head.

“Be patient,” he murmured.

He teased you, only letting the tips of his finger dip into you before he pulled them away, only focusing on your clit.

You couldn’t wait anymore, you gripped his wrist and looked him in the eyes, with a pleading look on your face.

“Please,” you whispered and he rolled his eyes, nodding, as if annoyed. You let go of his wrist, settling back against him.

He dipped his fingers in you again, going deeper this time. You spread your legs slightly more, trying to take as much of his fingers as you can. You moaned loudly when his fingers prodded against the sensitive spot inside you. The motion made you grip the loose fabric of his grey sweat pants you could almost feel him smirk behind you.

“Oh, God,” you whispered out as you fought against the flutter of your lashes, struggling against the urge to close your eyes in absolute bliss.

He quickly moved his fingers in and out of you, thumb on your clit, trying to graze the sensitive spot as much and as best as you could. Soon, you were a moaning and whining mess, too close to your orgasm to let out anything except the gasps of his name.

You were so, so close. The feeling in your belly almost too much to bear.

“Let go for me my love, cum for me,” he whispered against your ear.

You tried to hold off for a while, wanting to enjoy his touch for a bit longer, but you couldn’t it wasn’t possible.

You let go with a loud moan as the hot blinding pleasure hit you, making you see galaxies for a few moments. You desperately tried to close your legs around his hand, but this time, he was ready and didn’t let your legs slip from his. Harry continued to rub your clit even after your orgasm, making you whine and try to get away from him.

You felt sleepy. Your eyes were too heavy to keep them open and your limbs felt too heavy to move on your own. You felt yourself being moved. From between Harry’s legs to laying on a fluffy pillow with a warm blanket draped over you. You felt Harry slip away from you, and you tried calling out for him.

“M’just going to turn the mic off, I will be back in a minute, I promise darling, then I’ll clean you up,” he promised lovingly and you nodded, snuggling into the soft fabric of the pillow underneath your head.

He was right, after about a minute you could feel his presence again as the pillows around you shifted underneath his weight.

“I need to pull the blanket off, prepare,” he warned and you braced yourself for the chilly feeling.

You were grateful he cleaned up very quickly. He quickly wiped you up, and slipped your underwear on, mumbling encouraging words when you flinched away from being too sensitive.

“Sit up for me,” he gently ordered and pulled you up to rest against him. He opened the water bottle only an arm's length away from him and placed it against your lips, urging you to drink just a little. You took a few sips, but soon grew tired of it, and tried to lay down again. This time, he laid down with you. He threw a blanket over your bodies, snuggling your almost bare form to his, gently brushing his hand over your hair in soothing motions.

“Did so good for me, my best girl,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses around the back of your neck.

“At least credit me for the song,” you joked weakly, making Harry’s laugh the last thing you heard before you slipped into a well-deserved slumber.

----

This is it folks, hope you liked it, please reblog and like to let me know, it makes me very happy to see.

Anyway, thank you for reading <3

#fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #my writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fic

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justash02 · 1 year

Text

Womanizer~ 01

Plot; Everyone who knew who Tom Kaulitz was knew that he was girl crazy, he's very well known for having girls around him all the time.

Pairing; Tom Haulitz x Fem!Reader

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Master list

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A/n; if you ever have a request you can always DM me!🖤

*^*^*

"Wow that was amazing Tom." The girl flirty said next to the boy, he didn't even know who this girl was, but as long as she could please him it's enough for him.

Tom likes to think he doesn't care about love, if he could stick his dick in a girl real quick he was happy. He didn't care about dates, cuddles, or anything really.

It was just more convenient this way, he didn't have any responsibility that comes with relationships but still got the in his opinion the best thing out of it.

He stays quiet as he starts to get dressed again, "You're not gonna clean me up?" She asked confused and slightly hurt at his way of being.

"I have practice babe." He spoke, he looked over to the blond girl and smirked. "Gotta go now." She just nodded, looking down at her thighs that were covered in the fluids of sex.

*^*^*

Y/n's POV.

"Must be love on the brain~ that's got me feeling this way. It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good and I can't get enough~ must be love on the, brain~"

The studio went silent for a second before clapping filled the other room, my eyes shot over to my band and manager.

"That might have been our best take yet! You did great Y/n/n!" Clair said running over to me. She quickly threw her arms around my neck hugging me.

I laughed hugging the girl back, "Couldn't be done without your beautiful song writing Clair." I said rubbing her back. The blue haired girl slightly pulled away but kept her arm around my shoulder keeping me in a side hug.

A hand appeared above me petting my head, "Great job." Adam said, his black curls hung in front of his eyes as he gave me a side smile. I nodded feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Where's Ben?" I asked looking at Clair, "He went to grab some food, we're ordering Y/F/F." I smiled big before nodding. "This albums gonna be amazing!"

*^*^*

And Clair was right, our album ANTI went viral all over Germany and across the world.

Suddenly our 50 fans became thousands, it was scary at first. We got hate at first, but that soon was overshadowed by the amount of love and support we got from fans.

Everywhere where we went people seemed to know who "XO" it was, strange, At first, being famous I mean.

We couldn't go out and eat without being asked for pics, we couldn't shop anymore without being recorded by paparazzi.

It was exhausting but also amazing! We got to see the world differently.

*^*^*

"Please welcome, XO!" The interviewer announced. Clair put her hand on my back, her black painted nails gently scratching my back to calm me down. I took a deep breath before we started walking to the couch as a group.

We all sat down, I sat next to Ben and Adam. "It's so nice to have you guys here." She began. "It's very nice to be here thank you." Adam said.

Ria, the interviewer, smiled at Adam before grabbing the cards that were next to her on the small wooden table, I looked over at Clair, her short hair suited her so good and you could really tell she was getting more confident.

Ben on the other hand was kinda of trembling under the pressure, he has told us before that if he didn't have us that he would've quit already. His dirty blond hair was long and shined in the lights from the stage we were sitting on.

Adam was the best group leader you could have, I'm glad we all decided that he should pull us through it. Without him we wouldn't have been here now. He's confident as well but in a good way, he knows what to say to us to get us to give it our fullest and I'm so incredibly grateful for that.

"So," Ria's voice ran through the mic, "Many fans want to know about you guys band name, why XO?" She asked looking at us.

Adam looked over at Clair giving her the word, "X stands for the men in the group and O for the women, it shows that being different and having different looks on things shouldn't be a bad thing." She said smiling, her dimples coming through so firmly.

Ria smiled and nodded, she flipped over to the next card and read over it quickly, "Y/n, we understand that you're the voice of XO, is there someone who you look up to that has inspired you to sing?" She asked.

I sat up a bit and nodded, a smile forming on my face, "I think that should be Tokio Hotel's Bill Kaulitz." I said, "He's my latest inspiration."

"So there's maybe room for a collab?" She said smirking.

"Well, I definitely hope so."

#x reader #imagines #tom haulitz #Tom haulitz x reader

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bisexualcage · 8 months

Text

Half-Truths | Johnny Cage x GN!Reader (Requested)

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: You and your costar Johnny get stuck in a PR (fake) relationship to promote your new film. It’s a bit fluffy & angsty.

Warnings: No warnings, although some sexual insinuations here and there.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I didn’t proof read a lot so yeah excuse any mistakes

There was a sense of annoyance you got immediately after receiving word that you’d have to participate in a PR relationship with no other than Johnny Cage. He was annoying— egotistical even, and that’s just what you saw when you were on set. So when your management suggested that it’d benefit the film’s promo to start dating you threw a fit. It was enough spending months with him filming, it was another nightmare pretending to like him in real life. Johnny was all over the idea, immediately jumped on board as attention starved as he was.

“So Cage, there’s been some rumors…circling the webs ya know…”

Johnny smirked and crossed his legs on the seat, knowing exactly what was about to come as he shot you a quick glance. “Oh I know, buddy.” He winked your way before looking back at the interviewer in front of you both. You were both promoting your film and in every interview you found yourself slowly going crazy by the same questions.

“Is it true? Are you both a thing?” The interviewer smiled.

“Oh we’re more than a thing. We’re quite…familiar with one another for a few months now.” He smirked, then playfully bumped your shoulder with his as you sported a flushed expression.

The interviewer then looked at you for confirmation making your eyes roll mentally; “That’s…that’s exactly right.” Your smile.

“Oh babe, I love when you’re shy.” Johnny said suddenly, making you go more red against your wishes.

“Wow, you two are sure hitting it off! I’m happy for you both, I bet your fans are ecstatic Cage.” The interviewer chuckled.

“Hell yeah, they love (name), right honey?”

—

“Hey- sweetheart, wait up!” Johnny yelled after you when the interview was over, you felt like your face was 50 shades of red and you hated him for making you feel gooey in front of a camera even though it was not real.

“Don’t.” You turned around suddenly and face him, “You embarrassed me. We were just supposed to confirm we were dating, none of that lovey dovey bullshit you pulled.”

There was a loud silence on his part as you finished ranting, a hurt expression of sorts before he shrugged it off and smirked again. “Come on! We gotta sell it. That’s what our management demands— that’s what the fans demand.” He let his hands drop to his thighs.

You scoffed loudly, “A confirmation was enough!”, you were being immature, hiding what you really felt inside.

Johnny laughed now, “Listen sweetheart, you weren’t exactly selling it in the previous interviews so I had to step it up!”

What’s funny is that he was correct, but you wouldn’t admit it. Not now. Not ever probably.

“Whatever, I’m done for the day.” You rubbed your forehead.

The actor raised an eyebrow at you, “You gonna come to the film festival right? Now there, there is a lot of promo to do there in a few days.” He winked.

You groan, “It’s my job unfortunately so of course I’m going-“

“You know, in all the months that we spent together shooting I’ve never known you to be the relaxed type— you’re constantly uptight. Like a little angry chihuahua. Let loose, this’ll be good for us.” He grinned.

“Good for us?” You raise an eyebrow questionably.

Johnny chuckles, “Yes, us…”

“What do you mean by that? Don’t start actually getting feelings on me now.” You cross your arms, a visible warmth up your neck.

“I know I know, it’s our job. Don’t worry, honey.” He nudges your shoulder.

—

A few days later the film festival came to be, there was actors of all calibers walking around being interviewed and their films being shown on projectors for audiences and critics. There was already a pressure of sorts- professionally and personally. You didn’t consider yourself the best actor in the world but you put your heart in this film— and as much as you hated to admit so did Johnny.

You walk in with professional attire, a carpet on the floor as you walked over it and a bunch of paparazzi started shouting your name and taking pictures. You weren’t used to this, you weren’t Johnny and it made you anxious the more you stood there trying to smile at every direction. Your hands shook slightly and you shoved them in your pockets to hide it.

Suddenly, you hear an uproar of yelling on the other side of the carpet as someone pulled up in a limo and you immediately knew who it was. Johnny, getting out in a dashing suit and tie, his usual shades on his face as he had his hair swayed a bit to the side. A bunch of fans were yelling at him compliments and even inappropriate comments but Johnny lived for that and smiled at them as blew kisses at the fans behind the railings.

“Name! Do you like your boyfriend’s outfit?” A paparazzi yelled as you forgot you were posing on the carpet, you shook your head and gave a simple thumbs up as your fingers kept shaking. You were about to have enough and walk off to the actual event but you felt a hand slide around your waist and pull you back.

“Hey, baby.” Johnny whispered in your ear and winked at you as he held you to his side, his hand softly gripping your waist as the paparazzi went crazy and started flashing their cameras even more. Johnny showed his pearly whites to the cameras all confidently and you looked the opposite, he noticed this as he felt your skin shake under his grip.

“You okay? Come on, let’s go…let’s get you some water.” He slid his hand now to the small on your back and walked your jittery figure out the carpet to the main event.

Inside you were screaming at his unexpected tenderness and for the life of you…you couldn’t figure out if this was part of the PR or not. Regardless, you looked at him with a rare softness. “Thanks…” you said lowly, a warmness on your cheeks.

Johnny chuckles and pats your back now, “If you fainted on the carpet it would been good for the film’s promo.” He said, obviously joking, there was a flash of care under his cocky expression. “Now, where’s that water?” He looked around, a bunch of actors and executives finding their seats for the viewing of your film.

Johnny then grabbed you by the wrist suddenly and dragged you like an excited puppy when he found the bar, “Hey man, give me your best H20 and a whiskey.”

The barman nodded and handed him a water bottle and then handed him his whiskey. Johnny opened the water bottle cap with his mouth, which you found amusing to say the least and then handed it to you; “Drink up, don’t want you pale. I know you ain’t used to these type of huge events like I am.”

“Johnny I’m fine for Christ sake-“ you chug the water, a clear blush on your face.

“Huh oh! Don’t blame a guy for caring you rascal.” He nudges you.

“I’m not saying you can’t…just….” You trail off shyly.

The actor raises an eyebrow, “Just what, sweetness?”

Before you can even formulate a rebuttal the hosts called for all attendees and cast members to get to their seats for the viewing of the film to start. You both found your seats, along with the director of the film and a few other cast members. You were nervous now, critics came from all around to judge and you couldn’t keep your leg from bouncing.

As the lights dimmed and the film started you looked over at a smiley Johnny who has his eyes fixated on the screen— the lights highlighting his face. It was endearing almost, despite his irritating personality sometimes he cared about filmmaking he cared about the craft— he cared about acting. If you counted the amount of times he quizzed you on film trivia back when you were filming on set you’d be a billionaire. He must of noticed your staring because he snapped his head your way and smirked.

“You know, we look good onscreen.” He whispered in your ear.

You chuckle softly, “I hope so. Would hate for a bunch of old men critiquing how bad I look.” You whisper back.

Johnny snorted now, a sparkle in his eyes even though it was pretty dark. Patting your knee briefly and then going back to watch the film. It was as if it was so natural of him to be so touchy with you and you didn’t get it.

As the film comes to an end there was a standing ovation. Rows of people standing up to applaud the film and it made you emotional. Your eyes glassy but you didn’t let any tears fall. Johnny looked over at you and patted your back with a smile, rubbing your back softly. “You’re just as a rockstar as I am.” He mumbled.

“Shut up.” You laugh with a shy smile.

Soon after, there was interviews held. Your whole cast and crew sat in a circle as interviewers asked everyone questions one by one.

“You seem emotional. This is your first time at a film festival right? and you experienced a standing ovation. You were amazing alongside Johnny and you guys had the best chemistry.” An interviewer said your way, the whole cast and crew looking at you, including Johnny who sat next to you.

You chuckle with a blush, “Thank you. Yeah, I was certainly a mess. This is all new for me and I- I really am so grateful for this opportunity.”

The interviewer now turned to Johnny with an excited expression, “Was there an instance on set that made you go…wow, this’ll work. I mean, it was so good you’re both in a relationship now.”

Johnny chuckles, looking over at you briefly; “I guess it was. Although, yeah, there was a moment on set where we were shooting the kissing scene and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why I was shaking like a damn maraca— I’ve kissed so many people. But (name)’s confidence and sternness in getting it done made me more…interested.”

Your face grew warm at his unexpected honesty, even while he said it there was no ounce of cockiness unlike in other interviews. It took you aback to say the least.

“And that’s how it came to be, huh? You were hooked immediately?” The interviewer kept going.

Johnny nods, “Definitely, like a fish to a hook.”

You looked at Johnny with a stunned expression, still not knowing how real he was being about that.

“You look surprised.” The interviewer shot at you.

“Oh- no, I’m just shocked at his information. He…never told me this.” You shifted in your seat as everyone in th room looked your way. “But huh- yeah he never ceases to amaze me.”

There wasn’t much PR work done on both your parts other than being seen in interviews together and some public sightings of you both walking around town, up until the carpet today when he decided to hold your waist. Outside of that everything’s been pure speculation and with Johnny confirming you both “dating” a few days ago, these invading questions were only gonna ramp up in the following weeks. And that was only further proven when the next question smacked your face.

“How’s bedroom time? Is (name) as stern with you in bed as on set?” The interviewer said with a perverted smile.

You didn’t know how to answer when he directed that question at you, everyone in the room slightly gasped and went quiet.

“What?” You whispered at the interviewer, your throat becoming dry.

“I said-“

“Hold your horses. That’s not a very respectful question is it? And most of all none of your damn business.” Johnny’s laid back demeanor was suddenly gone and his jaw clenched slightly. He took his shades off and his brown eyes were staring holes in to him.

“Woah- hold on, I’m just asking questions. I mean, y’all confirmed your relationship recently I’m just scooping a bit-“

“Johnny-“ you tried to intervene.

But Johnny grew colder at the man, “And that gives you the right to be a weirdo?”

Suddenly both of your agents stood up and begged for you both to say your goodbyes and end the interview. Johnny on the other hand wasn’t persuade as easily and ended up asking for the interviewers boss and the company he works for.

“Hey, damn- you sure make a habit of running off!” Johnny ran up behind you as the event came to a close.

You turn around with a stern expression, “Stop…”

“Woah woah woah- what’s wrong?” He whispered, looking around to see if anyone was looking.

You scoff loudly, crossing your arms, “You’re confusing me, you know that?”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “About?”

“About this whole damn thing. This.” You point and him and yourself. “This damn circus act, it’s gonna drive me insane-“

“Babe, you agreed to this circus act. Come on, you can’t tell me you’re not having a bit fun despite…it’s downs.” He thinks back to the interviewer with a solemn expression.

“Look, I appreciate you sticking up for me. But all you’re doing is confusing the hell out of me with what’s real or not. Sometimes it looks like you mean what you say and do-“

“I do. I can’t keep faking it anymore.” He said with a serious expression, his little smile gone.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“That whole story you told about being nervous when kissing me on set, that was real? Your nice deeds?” You said a bit too loudly because of how shocked you were.

He approaches you more with a tender expression, making you grow warm, “Yes.”

You shake your head rapidly, “Cage, you better not be pulling my leg here…”

“Shut up and come here��” he cupped your jaw with both his hands and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

It was all so sudden that you didn’t even know what was happening at first, you eventually reciprocated with a blush on your face. When he felt you reciprocating he let out a sigh of relief against your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth and rubbing it against yours, he then pulled back softly as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Cat got your tongue, honey?” He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You’re crazy you know that?” You smile warmly, “god you drive me insane…”

“Tell me, was this better than the kiss we had on set?” He smirked, looking down at your lips.

“It’s definitely an upgrade.” You look at his eyes softly.

Johnny smiled softly, bringing you in for an embrace, his mouth against your ear; “These weeks have been hell- pretending to be with you, making up stories and none of them being real. I want it to be real.”

It was a completely different version of him you’ve never seen, unusually very vulnerable and real.

“You know, I never really hated you. I was trying to…push my feelings away— thinking that it’d prevent me from liking you.” You said truthfully, looking in to his eyes.

“Oh I know that sweetheart, thats why I kept being specially annoying with the PR cause I knew you liked me— could see it from a mile away.” His smirk came back on his face, “I mean, who could resist this?”

“Cage…” You slap his shoulder playfully.

“Smack me like that again and we’re gonna end up in completely different circumstances.” He whispered in your ear.

“Oh yeah? You’re already thinking about that?”

Johnny kisses your jawline, taking in your smell, “Well, we are an item now are we not? No PR, no bs anymore babe.”

“Thank god, Hollywood.”

#johnny cage mk11 #johnny cage #mk1 #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you

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theetherealbloom · 18 days

Text

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.4

Chapter 4: Scandal Does Funny Things To Pride, But Brings Lovers Closer

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Male Receiving, Penetration Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other,

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: I wrote this in two days and I’m lowkey unsure if this all makes sense LMAO. So here we are, at the final chapter… tf am I gonna do now… (*stares at all the unfinished series rewrites*) well… damn. See you at the epilogue.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Joel doesn't think you both slept a wink that first week, the two of you creeping around in the dead of night and again in the pre-dawn light. You were over at Joel's place every morning, right after your dad left for work. He still thinks you're in your own bed every night, only helping Joel out part-time during the day.

But in between when he leaves for work and when he gets home for dinner, you're right where you belong – by Joel's side. Or, in most cases, bouncing your fine ass on the end of his thick, throbbing cock until you're screaming his name into a pillow.

It's not as if you haven't tried to tell your dad the truth. Joel has, too. But it cuts him up to keep anything from his oldest friend, especially when he sees your dad on such a high. Telling him the reality of the situation would surely ruin him.

Even though Joel knows it's the right thing to do, the thought of shattering your father's newfound joy and confidence is almost too much to bear. He's seen the way your dad's face lights up when he talks about the success of his business, all thanks to Joel's intervention.

Your dad is even making noise about setting up a workshop on the East Coast, making Joel's original idea sound like his own. But if it makes him happy, Joel's happy. Because of all that, you and Joel made a pact – if your dad asks either of you directly if you're anything more than just friends, you'll tell him the truth. But he's been so busy that neither of you have actually seen much of him at all.

As uneasy as it makes Joel, keeping the both of you a secret just a little longer seems like the easiest way to avoid making waves. Or so Joel thought. It's been two weeks to the day, and Joel doesn't think you or him have ever been happier your whole lives, except for the sneaking around past your dad bit.

But your dad is no dummy. And Joel can see now that he should have just come out with it, long before helping him get his business into first gear. You both guess that you two got lazy.

It happens right after another one of your father's dinners on a Friday night. He's insisted Joel, Tommy, and Sarah come over, and he'll cook for all of you. But come eleven o'clock, when Tommy and Sarah go home, and then midnight, you and Joel are giving each other guarded glances. And your dad takes on the air of a man who has something to say.

"I should probably head to bed," you say, about to excuse yourself, but your dad asks you to sit.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, honey," your dad says calmly, shaking his head and laughing to himself. But it's not a happy laugh – it's a wounded, ironic kind of grimace he wears as his eyes settle on Joel's.

"And you, Joel? I suppose you're beat after spending the day with my daughter 'helping you out' around the house, huh?" your dad says cuttingly, but he regains his composure quickly.

"I guess I have somethin' to tell you," Joel croaks, trying to swallow but feeling his mouth dry as dirt.

"I guess we both have something to tell you," you add, making Joel jump when your hand slips into his, and you rest them both on the table.

Your dad takes in a sharp breath, steadying himself, and Joel has to say, he's being a fucking man about it. "So go ahead," he murmurs.

"Tell me all about it," he says before raising his hand quickly. "No. Don't tell me all about it. I don't need to know the sordid details... Just tell me when all this started, Joel. You too, hon'," he asks, looking over to you, his eyes filling up with tears before either of you even says a word.

"How could you?" he sniffs bitterly, looking every bit as hurt and betrayed as Joel thought he might, but he's not angry. Not angry at all. Just hurt that you two have been fooling around behind his back and keeping secrets.

You feel upset too and lower your head in shame, but Joel, for one, feels better now that he knows. The burden of the lie has been removed, and he's ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

Joel takes a deep breath, his hand tightening around yours. "I've been in love with her since the day she graduated," he tells your father, his voice steady and unwavering.

"Things moved quicker than I thought, and it wasn't until we both knew how much we were in love that it meant hurting you if you knew," Joel explains, not making excuses, but trying to help your dad understand.

Your father is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "So. You coming all the way out here, for good. All that was just a way to get to her?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of accusation.

"Don't twist it to make it look like that," Joel retorts, but your dad isn't entirely wrong.

"I meant what I said about helping you, and I still do," Joel reminds him, his voice firm.

"I can give her more than any man half my age, too. Give her a life..." Joel trails off, his words hanging in the air.

The tension in the room is palpable as your dad's anger flares, his words sharp and cutting. "What? Give her a life her father couldn't? She's my fucking daughter, Joel. Who the fuck asked you to help yourself, huh?" he demands, his frustration evident. But you interject, your own voice rising in defense.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I'm an adult. And I know you've provided for me, always made sure I have everything I need," you assert, your tone firm and unwavering.

"But do you think a woman like me is ever gonna have a guy like Joel just breeze into town, sweep me off my feet, and then let him go?" you challenge defiantly. "Getting eight bucks an hour tutoring part-time and living with my Dad into my old age isn’t the kind of life I had planned for myself."

Joel admires your fire, proud of you for speaking your mind. The air crackles with tension, but at least everyone is having their fair say. Despite the burning bridge, the honesty in the room feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

For your dad to take the news without his fists flying, Joel realizes he's matured more gracefully than he would have given him credit for. The pulse of the moment slows, the truth out in the open. No more hiding, but decisions loom ahead that may not be easy.

Your father reflects, a nostalgic air settling around him. "I knew that day of your graduation, sweetheart. And I know you better than you think, Joel," he says, his gaze shifting between the two of you. "I just didn't want to believe it."

"I love her," Joel declares, his voice unwavering. "I'm having his baby, Dad," you begin, the revelation causing a moment of shock between both your dad and Joel, before your laughter breaks the tension.

“You should have seen your faces.” You chuckle a little.

"Honestly, I want to have his kids, Dad. I want us to be together forever. I want to take care of Sarah. House, kids... the whole nine yards," you chime in, relief evident in your voice.

Your father's response is unexpected, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I know you do, sweetie," he comforts you, a smile creasing his face. "You wanna be the mom you never had. And I guess I just didn't wanna lose the little girl I raised all on my own."

As your father prepares to leave, the moment's weight settles over you all. "I just need time, Joel," he finally says. "Time to get used to all this... Time to get used to not having her around."

The nuclear fallout you both expected never came, not in the way you expected. The night ends with a sense of understanding and acceptance, your father's blessing a silent promise of support and love.

Walking home next door, the weight of the evening hangs heavy in the air. In the quiet of your shared bed, you find solace in Joel's arms, the raw emotion of the moment bringing you closer than ever before. You are crying in his embrace, the tears flowing freely as the tension and relief of the confrontation with your father wash over you.

But it feels just as good to Joel, this shared vulnerability. Sharing the not-so-great times as well as the good times – this is what being with someone is truly all about. The good thing is that you don't have to keep anything secret anymore, and better still, you both have your dad's blessing.

Probably the most important thing for Joel, because without his best friend and the woman he loves, where would he be?

"We good?" you sniffle, rubbing your puffy eyes as you look up at Joel. He lifts your face from his chest, holding you close.

"Oh, we're better than good, darlin'," he smiles back at you. "We're perfect," he tells you, stroking your hair as you lie silent for a long time.

"I love you," you eventually murmur, drifting into a dreamless sleep with a little smile playing on your lips.

"And I love you more," he promises you, kissing your forehead goodnight. He's already waiting for the morning so he can tell you the same again, his heart swelling with the knowledge that you are his, and he is yours, without the need for secrecy or shame.

The weight of the evening has lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and contentment. No longer do you have to tiptoe around, hiding your love and affection. Your father's blessing, though not without its reservations, is a testament to the depth of your connection and the trust he has in Joel to care for you.

As you sleep peacefully in Joel's arms, he can't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. This woman, this life, is more than he ever dared to dream of. With your father's acceptance, the path ahead is clearer, and Joel is determined to cherish every moment, to build a future that will make you both proud.

As you stir from the depths of slumber, the remnants of a dream linger, tantalizing and vivid. Joel's image flickers in your mind, a hunger burning behind your eyelids, a relentless craving that claws at your senses.

With a slow, drowsy blink, reality floods back, engulfing you in a haze of sensation. Heat coils low in your belly, radiating outward as awareness seeps into every pore. And then you feel it—the intoxicating pressure between your thighs, a languid caress that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

Your gaze drifts downward, heart pounding in your chest as you take in the sight before you. Joel lies beneath the duvet, his form obscured yet unmistakable in the dim light. His rugged features are softened by the shadows, the scruff of his beard grazing your skin like a promise unspoken.

A shiver courses through you as his tongue dances over your slick folds, igniting a firestorm of need that threatens to consume you whole. Your back arches involuntarily, a breathy sigh escaping your lips as pleasure blossoms deep within.

"Joel... fuck..." you moan, the words torn from your throat in a desperate plea for more. His head emerges from beneath the covers, lips glistening with your essence, eyes smoldering with untamed desire.

"You gotta be quiet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice thick with a southern drawl that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Might wake the whole house up. Can you do that for me, be a good girl?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse racing as his words wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. With a nod, you bite down on your lip, a silent promise of compliance as you surrender to the whirlwind of sensation engulfing you.

As Joel's tongue delves deeper, tracing patterns of ecstasy along your sensitive flesh, your senses spiral out of control. Every flick, every swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body, igniting a fierce inferno that threatens to consume you whole.

"Fuck, Joel," you whimper, fingers tangling in the sheets as you surrender to the heady rush of sensation. His touch is electric, setting your nerve endings ablaze with a fervor unlike anything you've ever known.

With a low growl, Joel's lips capture yours in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance of desire. His hands roam over your trembling form, tracing the curves of your body with reverent exploration.

"You taste like heaven, darlin'," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna make you scream my name until the whole damn house knows who you belong to."

A shudder wracks your body at his words, desire pooling low in your belly as you succumb to the primal urge driving you both. With a wordless plea, you arch into his touch, craving more of him with every fiber of your being.

Joel's fingers slip between your thighs, finding you slick and ready for him. With a wicked grin, he teases your entrance, circling your clit with agonizing slowness before plunging deep inside you with a single, relentless thrust.

"Fuck, yes," you cry out, the words torn from your lips in a breathless plea for more. Joel's pace quickens, each thrust driving you higher and higher until you're teetering on the edge of oblivion.

In the soft glow of morning light streaming through the window, you find yourself tangled in Joel's embrace, limbs intertwined in a mess of sheets and limbs. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the rhythmic cadence a comforting lullaby as you revel in the aftermath of your shared passion.

With a tender sigh, Joel presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle against your feverish skin. "God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I could spend eternity right here, just like this."

You feel the heat stain your cheeks at his words, warmth flooding your veins at the intensity of his gaze. "I feel the same way," you whisper, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. "Being with you like this... it's like coming home."

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, his eyes alight with adoration as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "You're my home, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp that sends shivers dancing down your spine. "And I'll do anything to make sure you feel safe and loved, always."

His words linger in the air, a comforting blanket enveloping you. In Joel's embrace, you discover a sense of peace, a haven amidst life's storms. Here, in this quiet moment, you realize that with Joel beside you, and you're so excited and can't wait to see what happens next.

As the morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table, you took a deep breath and shared the news with Sarah and Tommy. The revelation of your relationship with Joel and your decision to stay with them while your dad was away for the week hung in the air, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Sarah's eyes lit up with joy, her enthusiasm palpable as she practically bounced in her seat, devouring her scrambled eggs with gusto. Tommy, ever the observant one, shot you both a sly look that made your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

You knew you needed to work on being quieter, but it was a challenge when Joel had a way of taking you to heights of pleasure that left you gasping and moaning, unable to contain the sounds of ecstasy that escaped your lips.

The dynamic between the four of you shifted subtly, a new energy crackling in the air as the unspoken tension of your newfound relationship with Joel lingered between bites of toast and sips of coffee. Sarah's infectious excitement was contagious, her chatter filling the room with a sense of camaraderie and shared secrets.

Tommy's knowing glances added a layer of intrigue to the morning, his playful smirk hinting at a deeper understanding of the dynamics at play. You couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at the thought of Joel's touch, his presence a magnetic pull that left you yearning for more, even in the most mundane moments.

As the morning unfolded, the anticipation of the week ahead hung in the air, a mix of uncertainty and excitement swirling around the breakfast table. The unspoken promise of stolen moments and whispered confessions added a layer of tension to the morning routine, turning the mundane into something charged with possibility.

With each passing minute, the weight of your decision to stay with Sarah and Tommy while your dad was away settled over you, a mix of nerves and anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, you found yourself in the midst of a perfect evening with Joel. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze created a soothing backdrop to your shared moment.

Joel's hand in yours felt like a perfect fit, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The two of you had decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby park, the soft grass underfoot adding to the sense of intimacy that enveloped you both.

As you walked side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you, a mix of playful banter and heartfelt confessions that deepened the connection between you. Joel's laughter was like music to your ears, his Texan drawl adding a touch of charm to every word he spoke.

"You know, darlin', I can't get enough of these little moments with you," Joel said, his gaze warm and adoring. "It's like the rest of the world just fades away when I'm with you."

You felt a blush creep across your cheeks, your heart fluttering at his words. "I feel the same way, Joel. Being here with you, it's like everything else just falls away."

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a romantic glow over the scene. You couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his features bathed in the warm light, his eyes reflecting the beauty of the moment.

As you reached a secluded spot by a tranquil pond, Joel's gaze met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his touch sending a surge of desire through you. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

"I can't get enough of you," Joel murmured, his voice low and husky. "Every moment with you feels like a dream."

You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body searing through you. The air crackled with tension, desire simmering just beneath the surface as you lost yourselves in each other.

The soft rustle of the wind in the trees provided a gentle soundtrack to your shared moment, heightening the sense of intimacy between you. In that perfect moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Joel's touch, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you.

As the evening drew to a close, the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, casting a magical spell over the night. With Joel by your side, you felt like anything was possible, the future stretching out before you like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of your love.

The stars had begun to twinkle in the darkening sky, lending an enchanted quality to the night. As you and Joel continued your leisurely stroll through the park, hand-in-hand, you couldn't help but be filled with a sense of wonder and possibility.

As if reading your thoughts, Joel squeezed your hand gently, his dimpled smile lighting up his features. "What's got you smiling like that, darlin'?" he asked, his affectionate nickname for you causing a flutter in your heart.

"I don't know," you replied honestly. "I just feel so... happy."

Joel's smile widened at your words. "Me too. Being here with you feels like magic."

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The chirping of crickets, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant hum of traffic - it all blended together to create a peaceful symphony that added to the romantic atmosphere.

As you reached a small clearing by a pond, Joel guided you towards a bench tucked away under a weeping willow tree. Sitting down beside him, you leaned against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

"This is perfect," he said softly, gazing out at the tranquil water. "Just being here with you under this beautiful sky."

The next few days were a whirlwind of stolen glances and heated touches, the air thick with unspoken desire and anticipation. Every stolen moment with Joel left you breathless, your skin tingling with the promise of what was to come. The thought of your father's imminent return lingered in the back of your mind, but in Joel's arms, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

One evening, as you stood side by side in the cozy kitchen, the scent of simmering spices filling the air, Joel's presence was a magnetic pull you couldn't resist. Without warning, he pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy with need.

"I've been craving this all day, darlin'," Joel murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.

A soft giggle escaped your lips, your fingers trailing down the strong lines of his jaw. "You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

Joel's eyes gleamed with mischief, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what I have in store for you. I'm just gettin’ started."

Before you could respond, Joel scooped you up in his arms, a playful glint in his eyes as he carried you towards the bedroom. Your heart raced with excitement, your arms wrapping around his neck as he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body pressing against yours in a deliciously intimate embrace.

The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, the air heavy with the promise of passion and desire. Joel's touch ignited a fire within you, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that mirrored your own. Every caress, every kiss, sent a jolt of electricity through you, building the tension between you to a fever pitch.

Joel's breath was hot against your skin, his body moving in time with the rhythm of your own desires. He pulled away for a moment, gazing into your eyes, the only source of light in the room casting shadows across his face. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with need.

You couldn't respond, lost in the intensity of the moment. Your heart pounded in your chest, matching the throbbing pulse of desire between your legs. With a low growl, Joel moved his lips to yours once more, his tongue probing your mouth with a fierce hunger.

The sound of your labored breaths, mingling with the low growls of desire that escaped his lips. The air grew heavy with anticipation, charged by the electricity that crackled between you. His fingers traced the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins.

The heat radiating from his body, the primal energy pulsing between you. As he pulled you closer, your muscles tensed in anticipation, every cell in your body yearning for the connection.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, their tongues dancing together in a frenzied tango of need. You could taste the sweetness of desire on his lips, the tang of salt from your tears of pleasure. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory.

You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he spoke those words. You wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth, venturing into the world of pleasure and sin that awaited you. You opened your mouth, allowing your tongue to dart out and wet your lips in anticipation, his eyes never leaving yours.

He guided his erection towards your mouth, the velvety head brushing against your lips. You opened wider, welcoming his invasion. His eyes darkened, and he groaned as you enveloped the entirety of his shaft in your warm embrace. You began to suck gently, the rhythmic motion of your head creating a wet, slurpy sound as your lips and tongue massaged him.

As he thrust deeper into your mouth, you struggled to breathe, your lungs involuntarily attempting to escape the suffocating embrace of his thick, pulsating member. Yet, you remained steadfast, determined to please him, to satiate his carnal desires.

His animalistic groans echoed in your ears, as though the very walls of the room had begun to quiver in response to his euphoric release. You could feel his veins, now bulging with the ferocity of his climax, vibrate against your sensitive lips and tongue, heightening the already intense sensations coursing through your body.

You could feel his heart pounding wildly, the rhythm syncing with the beats of your own. The room was filled with his scent, musk and sweat, a potent mix that drove you on. Your tongue swirled around his hard length, savoring the taste of him.

His hands gave your head a gentle squeeze, urging you on. His pleasure was your reward, the way his breath hitched and his hips thrust harder. You moved your head in time with his, sucking him deep, keeping a steady rhythm as his release approached.

The sudden tightening of his body spoke of his climax, and you knew you had to continue. Your lips glided up and down his shaft, focusing all your attention on the growing flutters within him.

Finally, he groaned, his release a hot, salty flood that filled your mouth. You swallowed quickly, eager to please him, the taste lingering on your tongue like the first bite of a ripe peach. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, his eyes locked on yours in a silent communion of satisfaction.

“You’re turn, darlin’,” Joel says, his eyes dark and his voice deep as midnight. You feel him grab your hips and begins to devour you, kissing every inch of skin and grabbing your body with an almost primal hunger. The air around you seems to grow thick with desire as you cling to him, your breath catching in your throat. He slides his hands up under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, and you can't help but arch into his touch, moaning softly.

Joel's lips trail down your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath as his teeth gently scrape against your delicate skin. A warm flush spreads across your body, and you feel yourself growing bolder, more willing with each passing moment. He bites down gently, leaving a mark that matches the one he gave you days ago, and you shudder with pleasure.

His lips explore every part of your body, getting closer and closer to your core. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire for you palpable in his every touch. The pace quickens as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently, a possession claim of sorts. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

His hands, strong and calloused, graze the soft skin at the nape of your neck, expertly unfastening the delicate clasp of your dress. It falls to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you exposed in just a lace-edged bra and matching underwear.

Simultaneously, his hands slide beneath your underwear, his fingers exploring, tracing patterns and leaving trails of fire on your skin. He pauses, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze fierce and unyielding. In that moment, you feel a connection, a bond that transcends physical desire. It's more than just lust; it's passion, raw and unbridled.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin against skin, and moans of pleasure, creating a symphony of desire that drowns out any other noise.

The air is heavy with the scent of sweat and musk, a heady mixture that serves to heighten the sensual atmosphere. The lingering scent of scented candles adds a touch of sweetness to the mix.

You can't take it anymore. The anticipation, the desire, it's all too much. Your body is on fire, begging for release. And Joel knows it.

"Fuck, Joel, please," you whine, your hips grinding against his in desperation.

He chuckles darkly, his lips grazing against your neck. "Alright, baby," he murmurs, and before you know it, he has entered you.

His cock slides into your weeping hole with ease; you're slick and wet from both arousal and anticipation. You gasp at the feeling of him filling you up completely, every inch of him stretching you in all the right ways.

Joel's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as if savoring every moment. But soon enough, the pace quickens as he pounds into you with a primal need.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each thrust sending shivers of pleasure through you.

Moans and gasps escape your lips uncontrollably as Joel hits all the right spots within you. Every touch feels like electricity coursing through your veins; every kiss like a fire burning between you two.

Your fingers grip onto his back desperately as he brings you closer to the edge. Your moans become louder and more frantic as your body tenses with impending release.

With one final thrust, Joel pushes both of you over the edge into pure ecstasy. Your bodies tremble together as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You cling onto each other tightly as powerful orgasms rock through your bodies.

As you come down from your high, Joel pulls out of you gently and collapses beside you on the bed. Your breathing is heavy and labored as both of your hearts beat in sync.

Joel pulls a blanket over both of your naked bodies before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. You snuggle into his chest contentedly, feeling more satisfied and loved than you ever have before.

The sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow over your tangled bodies. You stir, slowly coming to consciousness as the events of last night flood back to you.

Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself staring into Joel's deep brown gaze. He smiles at you, his fingers still tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"I love you," he says, his words soft and sincere.

The sound of his voice is filled with love and emotion, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You smile and snuggle closer to him, basking in the warmth of his love. It's a feeling like no other, one that fills you with happiness and contentment.

As you lay there together in peaceful silence, memories of how the two of you came to be fill your mind. And it was the best decision either of you had ever made.

"I can't imagine my life without you," Joel whispers, breaking the silence between you two.

Tears prick at your eyes at his words. You feel overwhelmed with emotion - gratefulness for having someone like him in your life and overwhelming love for him.

"I feel the same way," you reply honestly, turning to look into his eyes once again. "I never want to lose you."

Joel leans in and kisses you gently, sealing his promise with actions rather than words. And as your lips move against each other's in a sweet embrace, all doubts fade away.

This is real and true love; a connection that goes beyond physical attraction or fleeting emotions.

It was a connection that defied reason and logic, a force that could not be contained or explained. It was a love that knew no boundaries and bloomed in every corner of their being, the sweetest melody that echoed in their hearts with every beat.

94 notes · View notes

therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

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I'm the anon who sent the ask about Pack Mum and her frustrations; your version is fucking top notch (I'm just a switchy bitch lol) and let's be real, don't we all need a bit of that in our lives? 😩😩😩 would love to see Chris' version of that too, whatever you write is going to be amazing either way 😍

previous ask for reference

fun fact, i have a handful of drabbles written for these two that have never left my google docs (some of them probably won't, ever), since i use them as practice. for this particular scenario i already had something written, so might as well share it with y'all. please bear with me, this is barely proof read sjkdfhsdkjf

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~2k. | Warnings: smut | established relationship · pet names · oral [F.&M.Rec] · edging · face sitting/fucking, all that good stuff · spanking

minors do not interact.

> Chris💕🐺: pretty baby > howre u feeling today > ???

< You: hey darling < i’m very meh < but still standing so it’s fine < you?

> Chris💕🐺: im having a really bad day > dont wanna get into details but god i just wanna be home

< You: oh no ): < can i help you in any way?

You saw the ‘Typing…’ text under Chris’ contact name pop up and disappear a few times before he finally replied.

> Chris💕🐺: actually… > maybe > u can say no btw > but > would u sit on my face and let me edge you for a long while when im back home?

< You: how long is a long while?

> Chris💕🐺: a really long while > as much as u can stand it > just wanna dive between ur legs > want to suffocate on your cunt and your thighs baby > so bad > fuck > had to come to hide in the restroom for a bit cuz im so hard rn just thinking about it

You couldn’t help but chuckle. But being honest with yourself, the proposition certainly gave you a similar reaction to Chris’. All you could think about now was having your boyfriend’s tongue between your legs, aided by his lips and his nose to bring you to that sweet, sweet edge over and over again…

Wetness was starting to pool at your centre, your thighs pressed together to ease some of that familiar ache, and you honestly had to make the conscious effort to remember you were still at the office, in a very public space.

Your phone vibrating again in your hand brought you back from your little day dream.

> Chris💕🐺: again > u can totally say no

< You: mmm🤔 < i’d love to sit on my alpha’s handsome face < would you let me grind on it baby?

> Chris💕🐺: fuck… yes > anything as long as u just dont come > not until i tell you to > or until u cant take it anymore > yeah?

< You: yea 😇

> Chris💕🐺: fuck > ure so good to me pretty > seriously > im gonna make u feel so good love > hydrate yourself as much as u can > its gonna be so worth it > love u prettiest

< You: love you babiest

The rest of your workday was honestly a blur. All you could think about was the evening that awaited you. So, when you finally reached home–with your boyfriend nowhere in sight–you simply took a quick shower to get squeaky clean and got yourself into one of his t-shirts to ensure his scent was all over you when he came home.

As soon as Chris made it through the front door he gave you a quick kiss, dropped his belongings wherever, and made a beeline to the bathroom to take a shower–all as he discarded pieces of clothing on the way. A very delightful sight, you’d admit.

Now here you were, laying on the sofa and scrolling on your phone, waiting for him to come out.

The second he’d gotten out of the shower, barely even patting himself dry, with his hair still wet, Chris made his way to you.

Before you could even stand up, he was already hovering over you, kissing you deeply for a moment, only to finally trace a path of kisses to your neck so he could nibble at your pulsepoint.

“Been thinking about you all day, pretty baby”, he mumbled against your skin, licking the area and kissing it after.

“Me too, darling…” A sigh of relief passed your lips, while you all but melted under the attention your boyfriend was providing to your neck. “You got me so wet”, taking a hold of his hand, you guided it to your core, where his fingers traced your folds, spreading your essence with a deep inhale. “So fucking wet just thinking about you, Chris”.

“Fuck…You smell so fucking good…” Burying his face further in the crook of your neck, he sucked on your pulse point, just as he eased two fingers into you, making you moan in surprise as he diligently massaged your walls.

You bared your neck, giving your boyfriend plenty of room for him to paint purple roses on your skin. Holding tightly onto his arms, you couldn’t help but squirm a little when he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you, once he started curling them to hit that sweet spot within your warmth.

“So tight, baby…” Chris mumbled as he eased a third finger into you, making you whine at the delicious stretch. “We don’t fuck for a couple of days and it’s almost like your cunt has forgotten me…”

You shook your head, swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth. “Impossible. She–she knows who she belongs to”.

“Fuck…” Pulling his fingers out of you, he straightened himself. “Come here, beautiful”.

Chris laid down, motioning for you to place each knee next to his head. You did as asked, staring at him between your legs as you lowered yourself, hovering just a bit while he caressed your thighs.

“C’mon, baby”, Chris borderline whined, bringing his hands to your hips and holding you tightly. “Sit”.

“I’m…baby, I don’t wanna crush you”.

This was a common debate when you found yourselves in this situation. Sometimes you didn’t even need to think twice about complying, but, as a heavier person, other times you were a bit unsure. Today was one of those days, clearly. And as usual, your boyfriend was quick to reassure you.

“Babe, we’ve been through this. I’m a fucking animal, remember? All that werewolf thing? You’re not gonna crush me”, he chuckled. “Sit on me, get comfy, and brace yourself, yeah?”

With a deep inhale, you nodded, finally lowering yourself all the way. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your mouth as soon as you felt Chris’ tongue make contact with your heat. “Oh–”

His tongue running through your folds, teasing your entrance, licking your clit, sucking on it…Every single one of his motions had tingles of pleasure travelling up and down your spine, had your chest heaving, and quiet whines coming out of your mouth.

Bringing his hands to your thighs, he held you tightly in place, so tight you wondered if you’d see a mark left in the shape of his fingers later–something you were admittedly eager to see. He was groaning a lot, you were moaning a lot, and, in no time, he had reduced you to a whimpering mess.

Maybe it was all that daydreaming you’d been doing after he sent you those texts, maybe it was just how good your boyfriend was at working you up, but you were very quickly getting close to the edge, almost ready to tip over it.

“Baby…Chris, fuck, I’m…close”, your voice quivered a bit, and Chris simply hummed in response, finally slowing his movements.

His hands roamed your body as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub, the pressure was light enough that the signs of your approaching orgasm seemed to be fading away. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were going to stand this at all. You’d try, of course, but you realised very quickly how badly you wanted your relief.

Kneading your breasts, Chris simply continued his motions, slowly licking your clit, or dipping his tongue inside of you for a taste. You couldn’t help but roll your hips, trying to get some extra stimulation. And whenever he licked at your entrance, his nose would bump your clit, and it had you pathetically whining as you ground your core on his face.

When Chris finally opened his eyes to look at you, you stared right back.

That stare-off had the fine hairs on the back of your neck standing on end, and you were immediately trapped in that undeniably predator look of his.

It was kind of amusing, how that look seemed to have the complete opposite effect it should have on you. It should’ve made you feel intimidated, scared, but after spending this much time with Chris, after giving yourself to him so many times already, the trust you had in him made it so that stare of his just made you want to be closer to him. It enticed you, it made you shiver, made you wetter, and, right now, just by looking at him, at that utterly primal desire in his eyes, you could feel yourself grow closer to your climax again.

You genuinely couldn’t tell how long you spent right there. You had already lost count of how many times he’d brought you to the edge by the fifth time. Your legs were starting to burn, your lower back hurt, and you suddenly felt like you needed something in your mouth.

“C–Chris”, you tugged on his hair, gasping when he quickened the pace of his tongue. “Baby… Want–”

He squeezed your bum, one butcheek in each hand, surely bruising you with the strength of his grip. It made you dizzy, and you were sure you were dripping all over him by now. He released his hold on one of your buttocks, only to land a harsh smack on it after, urging you to speak, making you shamelessly moan with the action.

Chris hardly ever spanked you–aside from a playful, mild smack here and there. He’d told you before that he felt like he already put your body through so much with everything else, adding that, too, was just unnecessary, and that it could possibly hurt you too much. But, fuck, if the sting felt good whenever he did.

“Need your cock, baby”, you finally sighed, trembling with your upcoming release. Chris gave you a curious look, not stopping his tongue for a second, so you decided to clarify. “In my mouth, Chris. Please…”

Taking a hold of your hips, he lifted you up a bit, enough to talk. “Turn around, pretty”.

Your legs were incredibly unsteady, but you managed to do it, finally laying on Chris with his tongue once again in its rightful place within your warmth.

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of your boyfriend’s cock. Incredibly hard, twitching, and with an impressive pool of pre-cum under his tip where it laid on his lower abdomen. He was clearly enjoying this a lot, and just the sight had you clenching with need..

When you took him in your hand, his thighs jerked a bit, and a moan muffled against your skin as he continued to feast on your cunt. You simply pumped him in your hand, once, twice, relishing just how hard he was.

Wasting no more time, you licked a long stripe from his base to the tip, swirling your tongue around it for good measure. Until, finally, you took him in your mouth, eliciting a shared moan from the both of you.

Chris’ hands dragged up and down your back, kneading your flesh as he went, moaning against your heat whenever you got him deeper into your mouth, whenever your nails dug on his thighs.

All of a sudden, you felt Chris’ hand land harshly on one of your buttocks. The sudden sting made you moan around his length and clench around thin air. He did it again on the other, holding the supple flesh of your bum tightly in his hands right after in an attempt to soothe your skin.

His length popped out of your mouth with a sinful sucking sound. With a hazy mind and a needy cunt, you were speaking before you could think twice about it. “More…”

Chris immediately complied, smacking one of your buttcheeks again, groaning lowly as your moans spilled freely out in the room without his cock in your mouth.

He repeated the motions a handful of times, all while you jerked him to the best of your now compromised motor skills. Your moans got increasingly more desperate the more he spanked you, and your whole body trembled with arousal.

“Pretty…” Chris mumbled, keeping you off of him enough so you could hear him, although you barely could, you were too far gone. “Put my cock back in your mouth, baby. Suck me off, and when I spank you again, you can come. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“Good, good girl”, Chris pulled you back on his mouth, eliciting a shaky moan from your lips.

You did as asked, taking him once again into your mouth and sucking him, rather eagerly, if you might add. Your lips caught on the ridge of his head time and time again, his tongue and his lips focused on your clit, licking and sucking harder and faster by the second, just how he did whenever he wanted you to come, and when you finally felt the sting on your ass again, you could hardly make sense of your surroundings anymore.

Before you knew it, your entire body shook with your release, desperately moaning around Chris’ length as pleasure tears fell from your eyes. It was so much, so intense, and when Chris held the back of your head in place with one of his hands and started to thrust up into your mouth you were sure you had already died and gone to heaven.

It felt like you were coming for an eternity, the sheer intensity of your release had you shaking and squirming in your boyfriend’s hold. The most satisfying part of it all, though, was when you vaguely registered Chris’ warmth flooding your mouth, making you moan once again just at the feel of his cum going down your throat, making you dizzy just by the blissed-out sounds that were coming out of his mouth.

You swallowed it all, sucking on his tip until the very last drop of his release had coated your tongue, and as soon as Chris detached himself from your core, your body slumped, your vision clouded, and a ringing broke free in your ears.

“Baby? Baby, please. Talk to me”, Chris sounded so close. But how could he if your heads were in completely opposite directions?

“Pretty?” You felt his hands on your cheeks, and once you opened your eyes and saw the worried look on his face, you realised you were laying on the sofa, while he was crouching on the floor next to you. When did he move? He was just below you a few seconds ago.

“Did I…Did I pass out?” You blinked at him, reaching for his hand on your face to softly caress the back of it.

“Fuck, you did. For a few seconds. I thought I had choked you to death. Are you okay? I’m so sorry”, he was going into his Protective Alpha mode, and it made you smile.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t apologise. Give me a kiss”, you did feel a bit lightheaded, but you also felt light all over, as if your crushing orgasm had taken all the tension off of your body completely.

Chris sighed, pecking your lips, your nose, your cheeks, all over your face. “Fuck, give me a second. I’ll bring you some water”.

You simply hummed, stretching your achy limbs and turning on your other side to face the backrest.

When Chris came back, you gulped the glass of water in one go before you gave it back to him so he could place it on the coffee table.

You made grabby hands at him, and he chuckled, laying behind you and pulling you to his chest so he could press kisses on your shoulder.

“That was insane”, you mumbled while you caressed the arm he had wrapped around your waist.

“It was, fuck…I got too carried away, you’re all bruised, love”, his fingers gently traced the curve of your bum, and you leaned into his touch.

“Felt so good, though”, you sighed, content, further pressing your back to his chest. “So good I passed out, baby. That’s a new record”.

Chris giggled, and you couldn’t help but giggle as well.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, snuggling closer, relishing his warmth on your back, his warmth all around you.

“I feel like I won a million euros, a billion dollars, a trillion won…You get the point”, Chris nuzzled your nape, pressing lingering kisses there, all as he brought a hand to your belly to lightly squish your soft flesh. “Honestly just what I needed. For my pretty girlfriend to feel insanely good, and to blow my load in her perfect, warm mouth”.

You chuckled, taking a hold of his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss on his palm, right before you turned around in his hold and cupped his cheeks, smiling at him. “I love you”.

“Love you”, he repeated immediately, diving in for a kiss. When he pulled back, he held you tightly, pressing kisses on your cheeks. “You’re so good to me”.

“And you to me, baby”, you mumbled back, kissing him on the cheek before you tucked your head under his chin.

You both laid there for a moment, a moment of just your soft caresses on each other’s exposed skin. Until Chris heaved a satisfied sigh, pulling away from your embrace to stand up from the sofa.

“C’mon, pretty. Time to be pampered and cuddle in the tub”, Chris took you in his arms. A soft chuckle left your lips, and you held onto him, pressing tender kisses on his neck all the way to the bathroom.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@222wonnie · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @crispytigerearthquake · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏#ask #anon #wereroomies ask #wereroomies headcanons

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wosoluver · 23 days

Text

To undo a mistake

Part 17/17 - previous.

Lena x Bayern Player!reader

You hated the way you had ended the conversation. You knew this time you were in the wrong. And being irrational about the situation.

Above all you knew your true feelings, and the fear of giving yourself away.

The last three days were a bliss. You were enjoying your own little world. You hadn't been hit yet by reality or facts.

You hadn't faced the outside bubble, where real consequences existed.

Where people could look at you and make their remarks. Where you had to remember the reason you were so scared of opening up to her once again.

Right now you were under the hot shower, trying to feel a little less frustrated. Trying to think of what to say and where to go from here.

Be honest to yourself, but let it go? Or be honest to yourself and accept the possibilities ahead?

You got out of the shower, and as soon as you were done putting on your clothes, you heard the door bell ring.

Knowing exactly who it was. She had a hard expression on your face. Trying her hardest to not let her feelings through.

"I'll help you take everything to the car."

"I don't need your help."

But she clearly did. Looking over to what she had left there, it seemed to multiply the more time they were left there.

So, ignoring her words you grabbed a few things to carry down.

The elevator down felt like you were about to arrive at doomsday. Like you were about to reach an end, that was abruptly put in front of you, when you finally felt close to paradise again.

Mustering up the courage you still had in you, to look up at her.

A single tear made it's way down her face.

That one hurt, like a thousand knives had pierced through you.

Like you, Lena felt like this could be the last time. Despite all her love, and all the changes you both had gone through, it still wasn't enough to fix what was broken.

Or was it?

Rain was pouring down as you made the way to Lea's car.

You didn't remember seeing any dark clouds earlier that day. Much like your relationship, the day started sunny, but ended up in a bad weather.

You put the stuff on the trunk and made the way up once again, to retrieve the last of her things.

You made a mess everywhere you walked by. Water dripping from your clothes, your hair fully wet.

And you got in the elevator together, for the last ride.

Or was it?

As you both started to make your way on the side walked you simply stopped dead in your tracks. That caught her attention, as she had let you walk in front of her.

"Stop." - you said in a whisper barely audible. If she wasn't facing you, and seeing your lips move she wouldn't even be able to notice.

"What?" - she said loudly, so she could be heard over the sound of rain hitting the ground and shaking up the trees.

"I'm not doing this again."

She looked at you questioning, but didn't dare to say a word.

"I'm not letting you go again, Lena." - this time setting what ever it was you were holding, down. - "I love you Schatz." - walking into her arms. Your own tears now mixing with the rain droplets.

"I love you, Liebling." - she said pulling you in for a kiss.

But this time it wasn't a painful kiss, like you used to share when one of you was leaving. Or a desperate kiss you give her every time you got to see her again, because you couldn't hold back after being apart, even if it was only for a couple days.

"Please let's go inside. We'll get everything from the car later."

"Lea is going to kill me for leaving her without a car."

But she followed you in nonetheless.

"We need to get out of these clothes before we catch a cold."

"Yes ma'am."

And once more just like the weather you were able to pass through the rain, and use your love as a sun, to warm each up and make a rainbow shine through at the end of it all.

I can't believe we're closing this story. My first multi part fic 🥹 I was really excited in the beginning, in the middle I thought I had lost it, but I really enjoyed these last couple of chapters. Thank you for the anon who requested this and guided me, ily forever. And thank you to everyone who gave me support! 🩷

what is our next multi part story? 🫣

let me know!

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #dfb frauen #vfl wolfsburg frauen #fc bayern frauen

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 3 months

Text

You can't always get what you want | Chapter 9 of The Princess and The Duke.

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Pete grows tense, Nancy meddles, and you wonder if you'll ever get what you want. Maybe you'll get something you need.

You can't always get what you want But if you try sometimes, well, you might find You get what you need

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: strained family relationships, abusive parent, threats of physical harm, abuse, mild violence, language, felonies being committed, mild smut, blue balls, angst, shock/dissociation, Police Station/Police Procedures,

Tags:

Author’s notes: Co-written by @angelofsmalldeath-codeine. Things aren’t getting easy quick, sorry/not sorry. The angst and drama will end, we promise. Follow @vi-notifs and turn on notifications for updates when new content drops!

[AO3 link]

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

“Pete, I gotta stop,” you wheeze as you double over, stepping off the path and onto the grass of the park. Your lungs burn as you suck in large gasps of frigid air. Texas may be warmer than New York this time of year, but you had a gym membership there. Now you’re being forced to run, outdoors, in the winter.

“Come on, we’ve barely started,” Peter goads you as he jogs back towards you. You look up and groan as you straighten up.

“We’ve been jogging for an hour, Peter, I don’t do cardio, you know that.”

“Well, you should probably start, it’s good for you.”

“I understand the need for cardiovascular fitness, Pete,” you grumble as you glare at him, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Fine, let’s call it a day then,” Peter sighs dramatically but you know there’s no malice behind it. You’re pretty sure he’s just thrilled you even said yes in the first place.

“Shower back at mine, then get some lunch?”

“Oh, does this mean I finally get to see this new apartment of yours?”

“It’s been two days, Pete. You make it sound like I’ve shut you out intentionally.”

“Ash has seen your new place,” he says with a pout as you stroll back, arm in arm as you try and leech some body heat from him.

“Ash also helped me move in,” you point out with a nudge to his ribs.

“Sorry I’m not privileged enough to take a whole afternoon off to help you move, who moves on a Monday anyway?”

“Yeah? And who has random Wednesdays off to go jogging?” You throw back at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“You try being an ER nurse, I am at the mercy of the shift chart. I cherish my days off where I can get them,” he shoots you a glare and you concede defeat with a sheepish grin.

“It was all very last minute, I’m sorry,” you say as you stroll down the street, only a few blocks away from your apartment now.

“I wasn’t fishing for an apology,” Pete squeezes your arm, “But thank you.”

“I know, you’re not precious, but I do know I’ve been spending more time with Ash lately and I am sorry if you’ve felt left out.”

“Bitch, are you dying? Where’s this coming from?”

You laugh as Pete teases you. You’ve missed this.

“Note to self don’t be nice to Pete, ever again.”

“Ok, I deserved that,” he says with a scoff as you reach the stairs leading up to your building, “Damn this is nice!”

“Yeah, I got the rent cheap because of that double homicide last year,” you say with a shrug as you head up the steps.

“That was your place?” Peter steps back onto the curb and you groan as you look down at him from the stoop.

“Pete, please,” you rub your hand over your jaw in frustration, “Not you too.”

“You definitely have ghosts,” Pete responds with an indiscernible look on his face, “That’s fucking sweet.”

Pete bounds up the stairs and practically vibrates next to you as you shake your head. You unlock the door and check your post, as he hovers over your shoulder.

“So, have you had any paranormal events yet?”

“No, Pete, ghosts aren’t real,” you almost wish he was as superstitious as Ash, “Besides, what would that even look like?”

“I don’t know.” Pete sighs dramatically as if you’re spoiling his fun, “Cupboard doors opening on their own, cold spots, fuzzy lighting?”

“Pete, those things happen daily, I’m living in an apartment building, in Austin, with a corporate landlord.”

“That’s what they want you to think, it’s all about subverting-,”

You’re making your way to the kitchen when you hear the sharp intake of breath from Peter. You half expect him to be pointing to the corner of the room, imagination running wild at something invisible there. He is pointing to something in the room, mouth agape as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Tell me you haven’t sat on these chairs?”

“Why wouldn’t I use furniture in my own home, Pete?”

“Because these are antiques!” He looks at you like you’ve just kicked a puppy.

“Pete, Dave said I could take whatever I needed, he didn’t mention anything about antiques.”

You shrug defensively as you meet his murderous gaze.

“Bitch, your sugar daddy stepdad gave you over eight Gs of pristine nineteenth century furniture,” he cocks an eyebrow at you, “And you don’t even know what you have?”

“I’m not an antique nerd, sue me,” you shrug as you fill two glasses of water and place them on the counter before heading to your bedroom ensuite. You try not to let his comment about Dave get under your skin, but it stings.

“Did your fancy law education in New York not teach you anything? Or did y’all just have IKEA furniture to snort your coke off?”

“Jesus, Pete,” you snap, “I didn’t do that shit. And no, funnily enough I was negotiating contracts worth more than a billion dollars a pop. I didn’t have time to have hobbies, or addictions.”

“I’m just being a salty bitch,” he grumbles as his face softens, “I want a sugar daddy that will buy me antiques.”

“He’s not my sugar daddy Pete, can you cut that out?” you say as you gesture towards your bedroom, “I’m jumping in the shower, can we talk properly about it over lunch?”

“Sure,” Pete says, his face pensive as you turn towards your bedroom.

You shower quickly and pull on some loose sweatpants and Dave’s USMC hoodie without thinking. You pad back into the open plan space to see Pete leaning against the counter, swiping through something on his phone.

“Alright, shower’s free,” you say, breaking Pete from his doom scrolling.

“I won’t be long.”

Pete waltzes into your ensuite and you can’t help but smile as he starts to sing.

~*~

“You got eyes on her?” Dave speaks into the concealed earpiece as he sits at his desk at the office. Each screen is set up to monitor two separate sets of surveillance feeds. The right one cycling through downtown Austin, where Nancy has been circling the same block for the past hour. He’d caught a glimpse of you and Pete in the neighborhood, missing Nancy by a few minutes as you’d ventured further into the city.

He tries not to think about it, because he knows exactly what street Nancy is on. If his suspicions prove true, she’s trying to find where you live. It feels like a betrayal, he’s tried so hard to keep his distance. He’s not once asked for your address, purposefully keeping things vague when you have spoken.

Now he fears Nancy is about to throw all that hard work away.

The other screen is locked in on an industrial lot on the far side of town. A black SUV is parked in a side street, the target arrived last night and hasn’t shown signs of movement since. Dave’s focus is divided, and he knows it. Anxiety claws at the back of his mind as he tries to manage both situations unfolding in front of his very eyes.

“Nancy’s just slipped into a building, boss,” Ari’s voice comes back in his ear, “Resnik must have given her the address.”

“He’s not that stupid,” Dave growls but doubt worries at the back of his mind. He’s been chasing Resnik for the most recent set of photos and there’s still no sign of them.

“Maybe not, but she’s gone inside an apartment building. Do you want me to get a closer look? Assess the situation?”

Dave sighs, a gust of frustration billowing from his flared nostrils as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do it,” He snaps as he notices movement on the other surveillance feed, “I need you to handle this Ari, we just went hot.”

Dave ends the call before patching back through to Kovak.

“You seeing this?” Dave asks as he minimizes Nancy’s surveillance feed, pulling up street level CCTV to replace it. He must be focused now, one slip up and this could go south quick.

“Yep, target’s on the move,” Kovak confirms as Dave nods to himself.

“Tail him, I’ve got eyes on street cams, the moment he stops I need you on him like a rash.”

“Got it, boss,” Kovak says, the sound of his engine starting as he begins to follow the SUV.

Dave watches as Kovak’s small hatchback comes into view on the CCTV. Of all the team, Dave trusts Kovak the most. He’s efficient, details oriented, and most of all someone Dave would consider a friend.

“Stay safe out there, happy hunting.” Dave says with finality before settling into his position as overwatch.

~*~

Nancy loiters across the street from your apartment building, her phone out as she flicks through the digital copies of the photos the PI sent over last night. She seethes at the images of the movers taking the furniture up into your apartment building. The loveseat and chairs were supposed to be hers, when she eventually divorced Dave. She was going to take him for everything she could.

But she puts her bitterness aside, looking between your building and the next unit over. She’s eighty percent sure she has the right place. The building number was obscured in all of the photos, but the steps and entryway look right.

She taps her foot, sure enough of the building, but still doesn’t know how she’s going to gain entry now. She flits across the road, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a Door Dash cyclist and leaps up the steps, immediately she finds the building’s intercom.

She smirks at the fresh label for apartment 2B. Your initial and last name spelled out for her. She tries the door but is met with resistance as the magnetic lock holds firm. She curses under her breath until she sees the USPS van pull up down the street.

Nancy pretends to rummage in her bag, huffing and puffing as she waits for the postal worker to ascend the steps. The man pays her no mind as he buzzes the Super’s office. There’s a brief exchange through the intercom before the telltale drone of the lock being deactivated sounds.

“I just found my keys,” Nancy laughs aloud, jangling her own house keys in triumph at the disinterested postal worker. She sneers at his back as he pulls out the mail for the building, paying Nancy no attention as he goes about his business.

“Have a lovely day!”

Nancy shouts at him as he leaves, waiting for him to close the door behind him before slinking over to the mailboxes. She sees yours, apartment 2B, and sees the corner of a manila envelope sticking up in the mail slot. Nancy can’t help herself; she thrusts her hand into the slot and gently eases out the envelope.

“Texas Board of Law Examiners,” she reads aloud as she sees the inked seal printed on the top corner of the envelope, “What are you up to?”

She tears open the letter as she ascends the stairs, she snorts to herself at the bundle of documentation. It’s the approval to have your Universal Bar Examination transferred from New York to Texas. She stuffs the paperwork back into the envelope, filing it away mentally to use against you later.

She reaches your apartment door, trying the handle just in case, but it’s locked. She searches under your doormat and on the top of the doorframe for a spare key but finds nothing.

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way,” Nancy smirks to herself as she gets out a screwdriver and a hammer from her purse.

~*~

You throw down your cutlery in triumph as you finish up your meal, Peter is still pushing his salad around his plate as he mopes over his phone.

“Pete,” you groan as you hail the waiter over to get the check, “Stop being such a clingy bitch, he’s at work, not shagging his assistant.”

“You don’t know that” Peter narrows his eyes at you as he locks his phone, “I just haven’t had a connection like this before, he makes me crazy.”

“You were crazy before Alex,” you raise your eye as you kick him gently under the table, “What’s really got you strung out?”

Peter scowls at you for a moment before sighing and seemingly conceding defeat to your withering gaze.

“I’m going to propose,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper and your eyes go wide as you try not to scream in delight. You know Peter will kill you if you make a scene in public.

“Fucking hell, Pete. How long have you even been together?”

“Like six months,” he says with a grimace, but you shake your head, your cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling.

“Have you picked out a ring?” You ask as you hand the waiter your card, Peter goes to protest but you shake your head, “My treat, I’ve made a lot in tips this month.”

“Thank you,” Pete’s face softens, and his eyes are glassy, “I’ve got a few options, I wanted to see if you would come ring shopping with me?”

“Of course, when?” You’re practically vibrating in your seat as you try and contain the excitement.

“Next weekend? Saturday?”

“Deal, holy shit, Pete,” you say with a sigh, “Who would have thought swinging-dick Peter would be the first of us ladies to settle down?”

“Oh, shut up, you’d be settling down if you weren’t thirsting over your stepdad.”

“Pete, come on,” you slump back in your seat, “It’s not like that, can we just celebrate you right now?”

“You said we’d talk about it properly over lunch. Here we are, so what’s there to even say?”

You suck on your teeth, trying to fight the urge to snap at him.

“Dave’s not some creep preying on his stepdaughter,” you say, knowing he’s not going to back down on it this time so you might as well get it all out in the open, “I care about him, Pete. It’s not about some kink, or the money. I like him for him, and I believe he feels the same way.”

“I’m just saying,” Pete says with his hands raised, “semantics aside, it’s still creepy. He knew where you were on your birthday, came storming up to us like a man possessed. He just gives me a vibe and I’m not into the whole stepcest thing either, hun. Even if it was juicy to watch Mike almost piss himself.”

“After almost getting fucking,” you lower your tone as you lean forward, “gang-raped a few months ago, I’m not exactly pissed that he came looking for me when I was vulnerable. He’s in some government department, Pete, he has to keep tabs on his family.”

Pete raises an eyebrow at you and cocks his head to the side.

“Exactly, his family.”

“Do you know what?” You snap, your chest tight with shame and embarrassment, “You seem to have made your mind up already. I don’t know why I bothered. This is some Nancy level judgement, Pete. I expected better from you.”

“Babe, that’s not-,” Pete starts but you cut him off. You can’t shake the truth from his words, it’s the rot at your core you’ve been ignoring for months. But it doesn’t take the sting out of it, if anything it festers deeper as you’re forced to confront it “I don’t want to hear it Pete, not now. I’ll see you around,” you snap as you storm out of the restaurant, tears running down your cheeks as you step out onto the sidewalk.

You power walk home, ignoring the incessant buzzing of your phone in your pocket. You know it’ll just be Pete, or Ash, and you just want to be alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind you think you’re overreacting, but Pete blindsiding you like that set you off. It’s the kind of shit Nancy pulls all the time, and for one of your supposed best friends to do it to you cuts deep.

You storm through the door to the foyer, not bothering to check the mailbox as you ascend the stairs two at a time. You’re about to fish your keys out of your sweatpants when you see the damage to the doorframe. The dark paint splintered, with jagged slivers of wood jutting out where the catch once was.

You feel like you’ve been doused with cold water as you step back against the wall behind you. You fumble to retrieve your phone, ignoring the multiple missed text messages and calls from Ash and Peter. You pull up Dave’s contact and hit call. It immediately diverts to voicemail, you call again. Voicemail. Your lip trembles as you try to decide what to do. You contemplate calling Ash, but you don’t want to have to deal with her guilt tripping you over Pete, not today.

“I’m calling the police,” you call into the apartment as you knock it open with the toe of your shoe. You wait for a response before dialing 911.

“Oh, honey,” your mother’s voice echoes from inside and you freeze, “It’s just me.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask, voice low as you slowly make your way into the apartment. You keep your phone in one hand, keys held tightly in the other.

“I just thought I’d stop by and see your new place, I see Dave helped you out,” she says with a huff as she nods at the love seat and armchairs.

Nancy is leaning against your kitchen counter, fingertips drumming on the surface. A bright smile plastered across her face. You note the claw hammer protruding from her purse and your stomach churns. One arm is held behind her back, like she’s trying to hide something from you.

“How’d you know I had a new place? How’d you get my address? And Dave just let me take some stuff from his storage locker, he doesn’t even know where I live,” you say with as little accusation in your voice as you can muster. You know this look, the smile that hides the rage so well. Nancy is livid and you stop yourself from asking if she’s had anything to drink.

“Oh, I just asked around, shame Dave gave you these. I was going to make sure I got them in the settlement,” she says cheerily and steps forward, closing the distance between you and you take an instinctive step back.

“And the door?” You tilt your head over to the door.

“Oh, it was like that when I got here, nasty neighborhood you’re living in,” she says without a moment’s hesitation. You might have believed her if not for the evidence sitting pretty in her purse.

“Mom,” you groan, “please leave, I’ve had an awful day and I just want to be alone right now.”

“So, what is this?” She ignores your question, producing the envelope from behind her back and your jaw tightens.

“You went through my mail?” You hiss, rage building inside you as you feel the last tethers of restraint snap.

“Oh, don’t be like that, I did it all the time when you were growing up,” Nancy waves you off, pulling out the paperwork and pretending to read over it.

“Put that down.” You snarl, your fists balling at your sides as you try not to completely lose your shit.

“No.” Nancy looks at you, all pretense of kindness and motherly instinct gone in a flash as she holds your gaze, “You need to admit you’re fucking Dave, on record, because I’m divorcing him and you’re going to help me take him for every penny he has.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded as you try and fathom the depth of her derangement.

“You heard me,” she snaps, toying with the corners of each sheet of paper with her manicured fingertips, “Help me take him down, and I won’t shred your application, I know how much this stuff costs. Anders paid for your New York ones after all. What did you do to get Dave to pay for these? Let him fuck your ass? I never did let him do that.”

“Fuck mom, I don’t need to know what you let Dave do to you or not. I paid for these myself,” you say, jaw clenched as you hit dial on your phone.

“I call bullshit, there’s no way you’re not fucking him. You’re wearing that god awful hoodie of his for Christ’s sake, I’m not blind. Are you just using him for his money, or are you doing all this just to slight me?”

“Slight you?” You almost laugh, “I don’t need to do anything to slight you, Nancy. You've made it clear that I do that by just existing. Get out of my apartment, now.”

“What did you just call me?” Nancy snaps and you see her bravado falter.

“Look, I won’t do it, divorce him for all I care, but don’t you dare bring me into it,” you say as you hear the call handler ask what your emergency is.

“My mother has broken into my apartment; she has a hammer and I fear for my safety.”

“Are you in immediate danger?” You hear the dispatcher ask and you suck in a deep breath.

“You wouldn’t dare?” Nancy screeches as her face morphs into a mask of desperation, “I’m sorry, forget I said anything. Here, have the forms.”

“I am, please send help.”

She tries to crowd you, practically throwing the papers into your hands but you shake your head at her. You give your name and address to the call handler before looking Nancy in the eye.

“It’s too late for sorry, Nancy,” you spit, stepping further into the apartment, “I’m not a child anymore, you can’t use me like this.”

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nancy snaps and you barely dodge the slap that comes flying at you. You stumble back, clutching your phone for dear life as you stumble towards your bedroom. You can hear Nancy calling from the kitchen, but you throw open the bathroom door, locking it behind you.

You slump down onto the floor and cry, deep, throaty sobs that wrack your whole body. All you can do now is wait, and hope Nancy doesn’t rip down this door too.

“Miss? Are you still there?” You hear the muffled voice of the dispatcher and bring the phone back to your ear.

“Yes, I’m here, I’ve locked myself in the bathroom,” you respond between ragged breaths as you close your eyes.

“Stay on the line with me, ok? I’ve got officers on the way to you now.”

~*~

“Kovak, sitrep.”

Dave’s eyes burn as he rakes over the surveillance feeds, the SUV entered a parking garage ten minutes ago. Something is off and he knows it.

“Found the car boss,” Kovak’s voice rumbles in Dave’s ear, and he can already hear the disappointment in his teammates tone.

“Abandoned?” Dave asks, already knowing the answer.

“Affirmative,” Kovak says dryly, “Next move?”

“Return to the office; we need to regroup.” Dave sighs as he lets out a heavy sigh. He’s sweaty, tired, and most of all furious that he lost the target. It’s been weeks since the last sighting and this was the best shot they had of getting him.

“See you back at the ranch, boss.” Kovak signs off and Dave takes out his earpiece before throwing it into the top drawer of his desk.

He looks at the time and groans. It feels like hours have passed, but it’s only two in the afternoon. He fishes his phone out of his pants and his heart rate skyrockets as he sees the missed calls from you. He pulls up the security feed from where Nancy was last seen, and he curses at the scene before him.

Three police cars and an ambulance are parked in front of the apartment building, a crowd has gathered around where the police cordoned the area. He feels his blood run cold. Immediately he calls you, but it goes to voicemail. He dials Ari instead.

“Boss?” Ari answers on the third ring.

“What the fuck is going on down there?” He snarls into the handset as he shrugs on his suit jacket, already shutting down his computer.

“Shitshow, boss, you get our guy?” Ari asks, and Dave almost snaps at him but just manages to keep his cool as he locks his office door behind him.

“No, what’s going on, Ari? Details, now.”

“Nancy showed up around lunch time, the girl an hour or so later. Next thing I know the police are here.”

“Was it just my fucking wife? No one else?”

“Just her, but it can’t be good, boss,” Ari says and Dave sighs, he knows Ari can’t get anywhere near the building right now.

“Alright, thanks, Ari. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’d hurry, you might miss your wife being taken out in cuffs.”

Dave smiles to himself at the mental image before hitting the stairs, he’s too anxious to wait in an elevator.

~*~

“Open the door you, fucking bitch,” Nancy wails as you feel her assaulting the door with her whole body.

You’re braced against it, your feet planted firmly on the tiled floor, as you desperately try to keep her out. Your body aches. You’ve been talking with the dispatcher for the whole time, but topics of conversation are wearing thin.

“Officers are arriving on scene any minute now, stay put.”

You don’t have time to thank the dispatcher before Nancy launches into yet another tirade.

“First you fuck my husband, now you call the cops on me. What kind of a daughter are you?”

You don’t answer, she can’t have any proof that you and Dave have slept together, but you don’t know what you could say to appease her right now. Your mind is focused on just surviving, not letting Nancy through the door. There’s nothing else you can concentrate on. “Police!” You hear the shout from beyond the door, followed by a yelp from Nancy.

“Hello, officers, what can I do-?”

“Get on the ground, hands behind your head.” The officer barks and you slump back against the door.

“The officers have arrived, they’re dealing with her now,” you say in a hushed voice to the dispatcher, your body is tense as you wait out the standoff.

“Stay put until an officer gives you the ‘all clear’, ok?”

“I will.”

You hear the static snap and chittering of a taser being deployed before the dull thud of a body hitting the floor. You can’t help but let yourself smile at the image of Nancy being tasered on the other side of the door.

You hear the officers on the other side of the door as they maneuver Nancy’s unconscious form. A soft knock at the door startles you and you haul yourself up onto your feet.

“Is she gone?” You call through the door.

“She’s being taken to the patrol car, she’s out cold. You can come out if you want?” The female officer informs you.

“Ok I’m coming out,” you say, both to the officer and into the handset.

“I’ll leave you with the officers on the scene, take care,” the dispatcher says, and you thank her before pocketing your phone.

You open the door gingerly, eyes flitting around the room to check that Nancy was really gone.

“You got someone you can call? We’ve got an EMT on their way up, so stay put. We’ll need to take your statement down at the station too.” The officer asks and you nod, you’re pulling your phone back out when a call comes in.

Dave

You answer without hesitation.

“Fuck. I’m so glad you called.”

“I’ve been calling you nonstop, kept going to voicemail,” Dave’s voice is close in your ear, and you feel the rush of serotonin flow through you. It’s like he’s already there, anchoring you.

“I was on the phone to the police,” you say with an exasperated huff.

“You ok? What’s happening?” Dave asks and you hear the distorted rumble of his Mustang in the background.

“They’re waiting on an EMT to come check me over, Nancy broke in and started making threats. They’ll want me to make a statement down at the station.” You say as your voice breaks a little, the severity of the situation finally catching up with you. You’re following the officer out of your room when you see the shredded pile of paperwork at the foot of your bed. The Texas Board of Law Examiners logo is visible, confirming that it was the paperwork Nancy claimed it to be.

Way to go mom, adding mail theft to your rap sheet.

You think to yourself as you make your way to one of the armchairs.

“What’s your address? I’m coming to help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s already trying to bully me into helping her take you down,” you say as vaguely as possible.

“I don’t care,” Dave says with conviction, and you close your eyes. You’re too tired to argue, and the offer is too tempting. You need him, now more than ever. You give him the address as you set yourself down on one of the armchairs in the main room. An EMT appears in the doorway and makes a beeline for you once the officers let him in.

“EMT is here,” you say absently as you feel your last reserves of adrenaline ebb from your body, “I need you.”

“I’m coming, hold on.”

“I’ve got to go, thank you for helping me, Dave.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m a few minutes out, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The EMT checks for any obvious wounds, asks if you’re hurting anywhere. You say you’re fine, you let him check you over for concussion. He asks where you are, what your address is, standard triage as you comply numbly.

You hear a commotion from the hallway and turn towards the door. The moment you see him your resolve shatters. Your eyes are wet with tears and his face falls in despair. His soft brown eyes are wide, his mouth pursed into a thin line as he looks you over.

“Dave.”

“I’m here,” he says softly as he flashes his badge at the officer at the door.

“Sir, we need to take her to the station. Are you her boyfriend?” The male officer from before says as Dave steps over the threshold.

“I’m family,” he says, and you note the strain in his voice.

“We need to take her down to the station, sir.”

“I’ll take her, 5th precinct, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” the officer confirms and Dave nods.

“Alright, come on, we’ll get this over and done with, together.”

The drive to the station goes by in a blur, Dave doesn’t press you to talk. You barely register the fact that he’s on the phone, talking to someone about counsel. You don’t notice you have arrived until he guides you by the arm into the precinct. As he hands you over to the detectives on duty, he reminds you not to speak to anyone until you’ve got legal counsel.

You’re sat at a desk in the middle of an open plan room – you vaguely remember it’s called a bullpen – as you wait for the detective to come see you. Your head feels like it’s floating, your body slumped as you try and stay focused, but everything just feels off. Your fingers don’t feel your own as you flex and bend them in front of your face.

“Miss?”

You look up to see a woman, not much older than you, hovering at your elbow. You smile absently at her and wonder why she’s bothering you. There’s a nagging at the back of your mind, you’re in a police station, something happened.

“We need to talk about what happened,” the woman says as she takes a seat next to you. You like her necklace. You fixate on the silver Tree of Life hanging around her neck as she speaks.

“Can you tell me why you called the police?”

“I don’t know, I-?”

“Not another word,” Dave’s voice booms from over your shoulder and you look up to see his face stony, “Her legal counsel is on the way, she isn’t saying anything else until they arrive.”

“She’s not under arrest, Mr-,”

“Special Agent York, CIA,” Dave cuts her off as he pulls his coat to the side, revealing his badge as he looks down at the detective.

“Agent York,” the detective glowers up at him, “respectfully, why is the CIA even involved here?”

“That,” Dave says with a click of his tongue, “is above your pay grade.”

“Dave?” You say softly as you shudder from a sudden chill, “when can I go home?”

“Soon,” he says, his face softening the moment he catches your gaze, “Here, I’ve got to go speak to the Watch Sergeant, if your counsel – Jimmy – arrives before I’m back, you can trust him, ok?”

“You are coming back through, right?” Your voice is meek and wavering. Something deep within you resents how pathetic you sound, but you don’t have any energy to truly care.

“Of course,” he says softly as he takes his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders, “I’m just upstairs. I’ll make sure someone brings you some coffee, ok?”

“Ok,” you nod as you slip your arms into the sleeves, immediately pulling the fabric around you. You smell like Dave, fresh perspiration, his spiced body wash, it grounds you. Dave leaves without another word and you watch him go.

“He’s a protective one, isn’t he?” The female detective asks, and you nod slowly. She’s pretty, with long dark hair and soft brown eyes. Her suit is tailored and her heels low. Focusing on her seems to help you come back to your senses a little.

“He’s a good man,” you respond with a nod as you bury your nose in the collar of the jacket. You don’t want to be here, you just want Dave, you want to go home.

“So, who is he to you?”

“I’m not saying anything without legal counsel present,” you say, eyes narrowing as you try and figure out her angle. The familiarity of the legal process bringing you back to yourself a little more. The sound of the bullpen is suddenly loud in your ears. You can hear telephones ringing off the hook, the smell of coffee and fried food invades your senses.

“Alright,” she puts her hands up, “I was just trying to make conversation, you don’t have to do everything the CIA agent says, you know?”

“I know,” you say firmly as you sit up straight, “I may be the victim here, but I’m not jeopardizing my case by saying anything until my counsel’s here.”

“Clever girl, you watch a lot of Law and Order?” She scoffs and if it were anyone else, you’d have probably laughed along. But the comment stings at your already bruised ego, and you’re done being talked down to.

“Actually, I was an attorney in New York up until last year, about to transfer my UBE to Texas.”

“I see,” the detective frowns before shrugging and sitting behind her desk.

“Coffee for you, miss,” a young police officer addresses you and hands you an oatmeal and raisin cookie and a to-go cup of coffee, “Agent York said you might be hungry too. This is all I could get from the vending machine.”

“That’s wonderful,” you peer at his name badge, “Thank you, Officer Jameson.”

“My pleasure,” the officer says with a grin before leaving.

You sit there, sipping on the poor excuse for coffee in your hands as you toy with the wrapper of the cookie. You know you should eat but you’re just not hungry. Your name is called from behind you, and you turn to see a sharply dressed man approach you. His maroon suit is designer, his steely hair perfectly slicked-back, his wingtips strike the bullpen floor like punctuation.

“Morello, I trust you haven’t been too chatty with my client? Coercing her to talk without counsel present is a low blow, even for you.”

“O’Hare,” Morello says, her expression hardening as she looks between you both, “you know I’d never even dream of it.”

“Sure, sure.” Jimmy rolls his eyes at the detective, “I need a room with my client, no cameras, no two-way windows. Complete privacy.”

“Captain’s out all day, could use her office, you know where it is,” The detective huffs as she turns to her computer, pretending to look busy.

“Always a pleasure, Morello. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to talk,” Jimmy says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turns to face you, “Follow me, I know this place a little too well.”

“You friends with Dave?” You ask as you do as instructed, you have to work to keep up with Jimmy’s long strides.

“Something like that,” he laughs at the notion, “We’ve known each other for a very long time.”

“Did you serve together?” You ask as he leads you upstairs, gaining a few wary glances from the officers on duty. You reach the captain’s office, and he pauses, knocking twice and waiting a moment before cracking the door open.

“Not exactly,” Jimmy says as he ducks his head into the room, “Come on, this shouldn’t take us long.”

“You sure we can use this room?” You ask hesitantly as you linger on the threshold.

“Oh no, we most definitely shouldn’t be using it. Felicia will kill me if she knows I used her office like this,” Jimmy laughs as he flops down on a sofa to the left of the door, “Morello could have sealed off a break room for us, but she likes to fuck with me.”

“Who are you really?” You ask as you settle on an armchair opposite him. You put down your coffee and untouched cookie on the low coffee table before clasping your hands in front of you, propping your elbows on your knees.

“I’m Jimmy O’Hare, lead partner at O’Hare, Schmidt, and Bowles,” his answer rolls off his tongue, a rehearsed response.

“And I’m to believe you,” you gesture at him up and down, “a prestigious law firm’s partner is just going to waltz in and take my measly B&E, and assault case on? There must be hundreds of these cases daily in the city of Austin alone.”

“True, but most people aren’t Dave York’s stepdaughter.”

Your stomach lurches at the reminder of your relationship and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out. You’re still too raw from your argument with Peter.

“Surprised you’re not in there with my mom if that’s the tenuous link between us,” you scoff and you notice the way Jimmy’s lips twitch at the mention of Nancy.

“I think you know why Dave sent me to help you,” he says knowingly as he points to your chest. You look down, mortified as you remember you still have Dave’s hoodie on. You try not to react but your eyes narrow at the thinly veiled accusation. You cringe internally as you realize you’re also wrapped in his suit jacket.

“Enough,” you say, your voice sounding stronger than you expected it to, “We need to get this airtight and I want to go home.”

“Suits me just fine, let’s go through the timeline of events, walk me through it.”

You sigh and rub your sweaty palms on your sweatpants before relaying the events to Jimmy as best you can. It takes less than twenty minutes before he’s finishing up his notes.

“And the documentation you mentioned, you said it was your confirmation to transfer your UBE?”

“Correct,” you confirm, eager to be done with this.

“So, it’s a Class A misdemeanor, there are fines and prison time is almost certain, especially with the other felonies and misdemeanors she collected today,” Jimmy says and you’re nodding along almost mechanically as you try and work through this last part.

“Ok, I want to file for a Protective Order, we should be able to get one on the grounds of stalking, and violence, right?”

“I was just about to suggest a PO,” Jimmy nods, taking down a few more notes on his legal pad, “She’ll probably make bail, so it’s in your best interest to get one. Between the 911 call recording and the screwdriver and claw hammer, we’ve got a solid case for one.”

“Ok, are we done here?”

“I just need you to read over and sign this statement, then we can drop it off with the detectives before getting your photos taken. I should have you out of here in less than an hour.”

“Great,” you say as you take the statement from him, you scan it quickly before signing and handing it back over.

“Sure you gave that enough due care and attention before signing?” Jimmy asks with a skeptical twitch of his brow.

“Jimmy,” you sigh, “Can I call you Jimmy?” He nods and you continue, “I’m not stupid, you’re clearly very good at this, and Dave has hired you to help me. I also used to skim read case bundles on the subway on my way to court. I know what to look for and how to make a case. If I took longer to review it, I’d be a pretty average attorney. I’m better than that, and you know it.”

“Dave warned me about your smart mouth,” Jimmy chuckles, and he nods approvingly, “Alright, let's get this show on the road.”

“Smart mouth? I think you meant to say competent?” you sass back at Jimmy and his face lights up, but he says nothing more.

The next hour and a half go by in a blur. You answer follow up questions from Morello, Jimmy interjecting when needed, and get your photos taken. There’s still no sign of Dave as you finish up with the evidence team. Your phone is dead and you’re about to ask Jimmy to call you a cab when you see Dave come through the double doors that lead to the bullpen.

“There you are,” Dave says, his smile radiant as he sees you, “Jimmy, thanks for this. I really appreciate you dropping everything and helping out.”

“It’s no problem, you pay well, and I owe you at least another hundred favors. It was the least I could do.”

Dave nods and pulls the older man into a tight embrace. They separate with a curt nod and Jimmy makes for the exit.

“Oh, and kid?” He calls over his shoulder, looking at you as he goes, “When you’re licensed to practice in Texas, give me a call. Dave’s got my number.”

“You bet!” You call after him before turning to look at Dave. The sight takes your breath away. His hair is messy, disarrayed from where he’s been running his fingers through it all afternoon. His sleeves are rolled up, his top few buttons undone, you can see the glisten of sweat on his brow. All you want to do is reach out and kiss him, pull him against you and fuse your lips to his.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He says softly and you let out a sigh of relief. You walk out together into the frigid air, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to stop yourself from taking his hand in yours. Instead, you opt to bury your nose in the fabric of his suit jacket.

The ride home is quiet, but you don’t mind, Dave parks in your designated bay around back and you are reminded that you need to get your own car soon. He ushers you through the door while he calls your super about the broken doorframe, telling you not to worry and to go and shower.

You shower and change into a pair of loose cotton shorts and Dave’s hoodie. Your bare feet pad noiselessly as you make your way back into the main room of the apartment.

“Thank you, yes, we’ll both be here,” Dave says down the phone before hanging up. He sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose, not yet noticing you.

“Was that about the door?” You ask, and immediately Dave’s eyes snap open. His gaze lingers and you see the way he swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Yeah, they’re sending the maintenance guy out first thing tomorrow, told us to just wedge it shut for now.”

“That’s safe,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you settle down on the loveseat. You rest against the arm of the chair, bringing your feet up onto the cushion as you rest your chin on your knees.

“I can sleep on the couch, if that’ll make you feel better?” Dave says almost a little too quickly before clearing his throat, “Sorry that was a little forward, if you don’t want me to stay here with you, I can get you a hotel room? That way you are safe, and I can be here tomorrow for deal with the maintenance guy.”

“I want you to stay,” you say as you try not to laugh at Dave’s bashfulness.

“Only if you’re sure?” He says as he crosses the open plan room, you can see the hesitation in his face as he lingers at the other end of the loveseat, unsure if he can sit or not.

“I’m sure, sit with me, please?”

Dave lowers himself down onto the couch and you fight the urge to nudge his thigh with your feet.

“Dave?” your voice is barely more than a whisper as you look at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” He answers as he leans back, eyes closed as he rolls his shoulders.

“Nancy said something today,” you say softly, “I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you, but she all but said she was going to file for divorce.”

Dave says nothing but he lets out a heavy exhale, his entire body shuddering as he seems to sink further into the sofa.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you say as you shrink back against the armrest, you wait for the scolding remark. You brace yourself for the reprimand for bringing such a difficult topic up. Your walls come up like armor as you wait for the inevitable sting of rejection.

“Hey,” Dave’s voice is low, and you blink away unshed tears as you realize you’ve curled up, away from him on the sofa, “What’s wrong, what did I do?” He asks and you look up into his dark eyes.

“Nothing,” you mutter, the guilt and shame bubbling inside you like a festering wound, “I’m just dealing with a lot right now.”

“Talk to me,” Dave says as he turns towards you, one arm stretched out over the back of the sofa. It’s a silent invitation, welcoming you. It feels like home, “Let me help.”

You close the distance between your bodies, pressing into his side, just like the night in the basement after Tristan. You keep your hands balled, tight against your chest, not trusting yourself to hold him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in tight as he rests his head against your own.

“This helps,” you murmur into his chest as you take a deep inhale, “Thank you.”

Slowly your hand creeps over his chest, sliding up to his shoulder as you anchor yourself to him. It’s innocuous enough, you just want to feel him, but you know it’s not enough, you want more. You pull back and look up at Dave, his dark eyes searching yours.

His lips are parted as his eyes flit from your mouth and back up to your eyes. There’s an unmistakable energy between you now, something you’ve both repressed for a long time. You tilt your head up, your lips almost touching his as you beg him silently to close the distance.

It’s a soft, furtive, sensation as his lips meet your own. Testing, teasing, as he waits for you to respond. You hold back a whimper as you chase the contact. Your lips collide in a burst of hot, eager kisses. Each hungrier than the last as you move your hand from his chest to his jaw, pulling him to you as his tongue darts along the seam of your lips.

You let him in, his thick tongue claiming your mouth with a fervor that stirs molten desire in your core. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him to you as you slide onto his lap. Your body moves on its own as you hear him groan beneath you, Dave’s hands move to your waist. You grind down onto his hardening cock and shudder as he bucks up into you. His teeth catch your bottom lip as you scrape your nails through his hair, dragging against his scalp.

Your hands wander down his torso now, pulling on his shirt as he groans into your mouth. Your hands fall to his belt buckle, and you feel him freeze beneath you. His hands gently grab your wrists, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Stop,” he breathes as he presses his forehead against yours. He moves his hands from your wrists to your shoulders, gently putting distance between you, “We can’t do this, you’ve been through so much today, it wouldn’t be right.”

Your eyes snap open and the pain on Dave’s face breaks you, it tears you out of your trance and you virtually jump up. Stepping away from him, bile rising in your throat as you realize what you were about to do, the impossible, awful situation you just put him in.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you stand up from the couch, “I’m sorry, I’m going to bed.”

Dave calls your name, but you don’t turn back as you practically run from him. Shame and self-hatred coursing through your veins as you close the bedroom door behind you. You don’t have to lock the door, you know Dave won’t enter your space, he’s too good for that.

Too good for you.

A small voice in the back of your mind taunts.

It’s hard to ignore it, that nagging anxiety that you’re the bad actor in all this. You could have, should have, let this fantasy go months ago. That all of this is your fault. You crawl into bed, wrapping your sheets around you as you sob noiselessly into your pillow.

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